In recent years, disasters have struck frequently, and cursed spirits have bred like maggots in the dark, endlessly surging forth.
Suguru Geto stood expressionless at the mouth of a narrow, dim alley. As a sorcerer, he could easily sense the presence of cursed spirits.
Such places were their favorite hiding spots.
He stepped inside, water dripping from pipes into puddles with a rhythmic tick-tock, accompanied by the skittering squeaks of rats.
Geto truly disliked the taste of swallowing cursed spirits—like a rag wiped through vomit.
Yet he chose to become a sorcerer, to save and help people.
Since that day.
…
Becoming a sorcerer wasn't by chance. Geto could see cursed spirits from a young age.
Ugly, malicious, steeped in negativity.
No one believed in the world he saw, but these spirits haunted him relentlessly, forcing Geto to pretend he couldn't see them.
Until his high school years, when Jujutsu High sought him out.
So, the world had another side.
Geto agreed to enroll at Jujutsu High, believing that with such abilities came the duty to bear their weight.
…
His reminiscence ended. Geto raised his hand, activating his technique. For a low-grade cursed spirit like this, direct absorption sufficed.
In an instant, the spirit condensed into a glossy orb. Geto paused, then prepared to swallow it.
"Eating dirty things will upset your stomach."
Geto felt the orb vanish from his hand, a white shadow flashing past, accompanied by a voice.
Geto: "?"
Who was that?
Sorcerer or cursed spirit? Why hadn't he noticed them?
In mere seconds, Geto's thoughts raced.
Then he saw the white figure perched on a distant railing, casually tossing the cursed spirit orb he'd meant to absorb.
"How did it turn into a ball? Is it tied to your technique?"
"Please return it quickly—it's dangerous."
With that, Geto finally had a moment to study this sudden intruder's appearance.
He wore a white kimono, which Geto recognized as an ancient style, unlikely to be worn today.
Silver-white hair draped over his shoulders, swaying lightly in the breeze, with even his lashes a stark white. His eyes shimmered like pools of emerald lake water, glowing faintly in the dark.
Geto suddenly thought that if he'd seen this figure while praying at a shrine, he might mistake him for a deity manifesting.
At the very least, he shouldn't belong in such a filthy alley.
A moment's distraction allowed the boy to approach silently.
His skin was pale, exuding a faint floral scent. Geto couldn't place the fragrance, only realizing too late that the boy was inches from his nose.
"But you were about to eat it."
"Cursed spirits are filthy—eating them will upset your stomach."
The boy spoke to himself, then crushed the cursed spirit in his hand before Geto could stop him.
Should he explain that his Cursed Spirit Manipulation technique required swallowing spirits to grow stronger?
"But you can see me…"
What did that mean?
Geto's face stiffened. The boy's ability to crush a cursed spirit ruled out his being ordinary. If not a sorcerer, was he a ghost?!
Or just toying with him? Such a crude joke wasn't funny, Geto thought.
"Hey…"
"You smell of cursed spirits. Need my help?"
Insane, truly insane!
Feeling the boy draw closer, Geto caught a whiff of winter's crisp chill, prompting a flustered retreat to distance himself from the silver-haired boy.
"Teasing me isn't fun. You're not a local sorcerer, are you? From Kyoto?"
"… "
"Sorcerer?"
"… You're a sorcerer?!"
Seeing the boy's face shift, his instinctive step back, and his move to leave, Geto's hand shot out, grabbing his arm before his mind caught up.
It was cool but solid—not a ghost.
"Wait…"
"You helped me, and I haven't thanked you."
Keep him here,
Make him stay.
In that moment, Geto's mind held only this thought, as if missing that grab would mean never seeing him again.