It's been half an hour since I got back into my body, and my head's a mess. Nanami and that sales guy—Gojo—spent the whole time talking about stuff that sounded like it was pulled straight from the anime Hana and I used to watch. Only, it's not fiction. It's real.
They talked about cursed energy. From what I understand, it's a kind of power that comes from people's negative emotions—fear, anger, sadness. That energy creates cursed spirits, monsters like the one that killed Hana. Only people like me—or like them—can see and fight these things. Most people live their whole lives never even knowing these creatures are out there, waiting to attack.
They also talked about Jujutsu, techniques, sorcerers, and a bunch of other stuff I couldn't keep track of.
It was too much information, like they were trying to shove an entire book into my head all at once. I tried to follow, but at some point, my mind slipped. Memories of Hana came flooding back, drowning me. Her smile, her braids swaying, the way she hugged me, laughing like nothing could ever touch us.
And then… her hand, cold, cut, the blood on the ground. My throat tightened, and I felt tears burning my eyes again. I don't know if I made a sound, but I must've looked lost, because Nanami stopped talking.
"I think we should stop for now," he said, glancing at Gojo, who was staring at me—or at least I think he was, since his blindfold covers his eyes. It's weird, but I can feel him watching me, like he can read every piece of my soul.
Gojo tilted his head, a faint smile on his lips, but without the exaggerated energy from earlier. "Good idea. The kid looks fried," he said, putting a hand on his chin like he was thinking deeply. "But… where do we take him? Can't just let little Eiji wander around out there, right?"
Nanami was quiet for a moment before speaking. "I… I'll take care of it."
Gojo raised an eyebrow, his smile returning, now with a touch of surprise. "Oh? Nanamin, really? Taking the kid under your wing now?" He gave Nanami a light pat on the shoulder, who winced, clearly annoyed by the nickname. "That's new! But you know, I think it suits you. The serious guy watching over the kid from the shadows."
"Don't call me that," Nanami muttered, adjusting the dark glasses he had put back on. He turned to me, his gaze softening slightly. "You need a safe place, Eiji-kun. And time to… process all of this."
I nodded, figuring there wasn't much to argue about.
"Let's go, then. I'll take you somewhere you can stay for now."
***
[6 years later]
"It's been six years, Hina-chan."
I'm sitting in front of your grave, like so many visits I've made over the years. The wind blows softly, carrying the scent of the flowers I brought today. Daisies, your favorites. I still remember you running through the orphanage yard, plucking them from the garden. It feels like it was just yesterday.
But it wasn't. Six years is too long, and at the same time, far too short to erase the pain. Losing you was like losing a part of myself. No, more than that—it was like the world had been drained of its color, like everything turned into a gray blur. Funny, Hina, it's as if I became a shadow of who I used to be. Ironically appropriate, isn't it?
As you know, I live alone in Tokyo now. Well, not completely alone. Nanami shows up every couple of days. He knocks on the door, asks if I went to school, if I did my homework, if I've eaten anything besides instant ramen. He's... how should I put it? My benefactor, I guess. A benefactor with the face of someone who'd rather be filling spreadsheets than dealing with a troubled teenager like me. But he cares. I know he does.
Gojo drops by sometimes too. Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer of the modern era—the guy who never seems to have anything better to do. He likes to tease me, says my technique is "promising" and that I could be "almost as cool as him" if I put in the effort. I think he only comes because he's bored, or maybe because he likes my personality. I've observed shadows long enough to emulate someone funny and charming.
Speaking of shadows, I decided on the name of my technique yesterday. I called it Shadow Manipulation. Kind of basic, I know, but that's exactly what it does: I can control shadows—mine, anyone else's, anything's.
As long as there's a shadow, I can shape it. Like making spears or chains. I can also move between shadows, sliding from one to another as if the space between them doesn't exist. And the thing I use the most: separating my own shadow from myself and letting it walk around, observing people.
It's a powerful technique, Hina, but every movement and creation consumes a ridiculous amount of cursed energy. Nanami says my efficiency is terrible—his words, not mine.
If I use the technique for too long, or create something too big, my body just collapses. I've fallen face-first to the floor more times than I care to admit. He insists it's not safe to keep testing my limits, but how can I not? It's the only thing that makes me feel alive, that connects me to something greater.
These last few years, I've basically been like this — trying to ignore the emptiness while using my power for superficial things. But I can't do it anymore, Hina. I can't keep living like this, a shadow wandering without purpose.
That's why I made a decision. Next year, I'm going to enroll in the Tokyo Jujutsu School. I know I promised I'd never do that, that I'd never get involved with that world of sorcerers and curses. But I've changed my mind. It's not just for me, Hina. It's for you. For everyone who's lost someone because of cursed energy.
I want something greater. I want… to put an end to cursed energy. I know it sounds crazy, maybe even impossible. How could someone like me change something so fundamental? But I believe there's a way. There always is...
The sun is already low, painting the sky orange and stretching the shadows around me. The cemetery is quiet, except for the rustling of leaves carried by the wind. I look at the grave one last time, the daisies I brought resting gently in the vase.
"Well, I'm heading out, Hina-chan. See you later," I murmur, my voice nearly swallowed by the breeze. I stand, adjusting my coat, and point my hand at my own shadow, which stretches across the ground like a pool of living ink.
Quickly, dark tendrils rise from the shadow, sinuous, wrapping around my body like snakes. In the blink of an eye, they pull me into the darkness. There's no resistance, only the sensation of falling into a cold void.
The world around me dissolves, and the cemetery disappears.
***
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, images or songs featured in this fic. Additionally, I do not claim ownership of any products or properties mentioned in this novel. This work is entirely fanfic.