"Yo, where the hell am I?"
It's night. Not my night — not the regular city lights, honking cars, chill music kinda night.
Nah. This night feel wrong. The air's too heavy. Streetlights flicker like they scared. Ain't no sound except this nasty buzz in the back of my head, like a speaker playing static on loop.
I blink again. I'm still in this weird-ass Tokyo alley, and I sure as hell didn't walk here.
One second I was in my room, scrolling my phone. Next second?
WHOOSH.
Room gone.
Phone gone.
Sanity? Hanging by a thread.
I start walking, tryin' to piece this together. Then I feel it.
That chill in the back of your neck when somebody — or something — watching you. My heartbeat start skippin' like a scratched mixtape.
"RRHHAAAAGH!"
From the shadows, it comes out.
Not a person.
Not even a demon.
Some thing — nine feet tall, pitch-black skin, arms stretchin' like noodles, a mouth full of eyes. It screamin' like its whole life been pain and it want me to join the party.
I ain't freeze, though.
I should've. But I didn't.
Instead, something inside me — deep down, like a fire that's been waitin' — just ignites. My fingertips start tinglin'. Shadows flicker around my feet.
And I feel it: Cursed energy.
"...What the hell?"
No one taught me this. I didn't train. But it's like my soul remembers something I don't. Like this power been sleepin' in me my whole life, waitin' for a reason to wake up.
The thing charges.
I dodge, barely. My body's runnin' on instincts I ain't never had before. I throw a punch, it dodges. I kick — it grabs my leg and slams me into a dumpster like it's WWE.
I hit the ground hard. Blood in my mouth. Arms shakin'. Heart poundin'.
It stands over me, mouth open.
Then I hear footsteps.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
This dude walks into the alley like he late to a photo shoot. White hair. Black blindfold. Hands in his pockets like he ain't impressed.
"Yo," he says, casual as hell. "You good?"
"DO I LOOK GOOD TO YOU?!" I yell, still on the ground.
He sighs. "Man… you new around here, huh?"
Before I can answer, the monster lunges at him.
He vanishes.
BOOM.
Next thing I know, that thing's twisted into the wall like someone hit it with a truck made of light. Gone. Disintegrated. No ceremony.
I'm speechless.
He turns to me, smiling like it's just another Tuesday.
"Name's Gojo. You? You're interesting."
"Yo, hold up — WHAT WAS THAT? WHAT ARE YOU?!"
He kneels beside me, head tilting.
"You got cursed energy. A lot of it. Raw, unstable... but that technique? That was something else. You ever say the word 'Arise' in your head just now?"
I blink. "Y-Yeah. I think I did. Why?"
He grins.
"Then welcome to the world of jujutsu sorcery. That thing you got? It's rare. Your cursed technique is called Resurgence. It brings back the things you defeat — makes 'em yours. Think shadow puppets, but more violent."
"…Ayo what?"
"You're coming with me."
"Man, I don't even know you—!"
"You wanna live?"
I pause. He smirks.
"Didn't think so. C'mon. Jujutsu High's waitin'. You got work to do."
And just like that, I'm limpin' after some blindfolded anime-looking dude toward a school that trains people to fight nightmares.
I don't know where I am.
I don't know the rules.
But I got this weird-ass power, and a gut feeling I'm gonna need it real soon.