"Curses don't always scream. Sometimes, they whisper—and that's when they're most dangerous."
---
It was too quiet.
Not the kind of quiet that comes from peace—this was the kind that waits. That breathes. That clings to your skin like fog in your lungs.
The abandoned train station in the Shinjuku underground had been closed for five years after a chemical spill, or so the government claimed. But every week, more and more people were going missing near the old entrance. Construction workers, homeless, even a pair of off-duty cops. No trace. No blood. Just vanishing.
And now, Sora Kazehaya stood in the center of the cold, tiled platform, staring into the pitch-black tunnel that stretched into the darkness like an open mouth.
---
"Confirmed. Special-grade cursed spirit."
The voice in his ear crackled. Yaga-sensei's tone was as calm as ever, but behind it was tension. Even through the receiver, the pressure was heavy.
Sora didn't respond. He didn't need to.
His eyes scanned the surrounding walls—tiles cracked, lights flickering, symbols written in red—blood, probably. There was a stench in the air. Not rot. Not gas. But something colder. Something like emptiness.
He exhaled slowly, his breath visible in the freezing air. Then he blinked, and his cursed energy disappeared. Vanished completely. Like he'd never existed.
---
On a nearby rooftop, a spotter team from Jujutsu High watched the monitors.
"He's gone," one whispered. "Again."
"No, he's there," another muttered. "Kazehaya's cursed signature is just... suppressed. He's walking silence."
---
Back underground, Sora took a step forward.
Each movement was silent. Graceful. Measured.
His shadow stretched unnaturally long beneath the flickering station lights, snaking toward the tunnel. His fingers twitched slightly—he could feel it now. Something massive was watching him.
Then—
A sound. Like gravel being crushed under wet hands.
The tunnel exhaled.
And then it came.
A mass of limbs and eyes, crawling out of the darkness like a wave. Its body was covered in human mouths, all screaming different names. Bones cracked as it slithered across the platform, its voice a whisper of overlapping sobs.
> "Why... did they leave me behind...?"
A normal sorcerer would've panicked. A Grade 1 would've stalled for backup.
Sora did neither.
---
He raised one hand.
From his palm, a black ripple distorted the air, like heatwaves from a dying sun. His cursed energy surged—soundlessly. No chant. No flash. Just nothingness bleeding into the world.
> Yūkōgai: Void Limb.
From his shadow, a black arm erupted—bony, clawed, smoke-like. It lashed forward and phased through the curse's body.
The creature screamed.
Not in pain. In confusion.
> "Wh—what… what did you take…?!"
Sora didn't speak.
The black limb retracted, and as it did, a chunk of cursed energy peeled off the monster like flesh from bone. The curse collapsed, writhing as its own power began eating itself.
> "Give it BACK! That's mine!"
The creature launched a barrage of tendrils. They stabbed through the air—sharp, precise, angry.
Sora vanished.
He didn't dodge.
He blinked—erased the space he occupied and reappeared ten meters behind the curse, standing still.
Blood trickled from his nose.
> Overuse of short-range erasure. Already bleeding. One more step and he'd rupture something inside.
Didn't matter.
He raised his hand again.
> "Void Limb: Second Grasp."
Two arms this time.
They moved like vipers—slithering shadows—phasing into the curse and pulling something vital from its core.
> The names.
The souls it had eaten.
The curse started to forget what it was.
> "Who am… I…?" it stuttered.
"I… I…"
Sora stepped forward. "You're nothing," he said flatly.
Then closed his hand.
The curse imploded, collapsing in on itself, its body folding into a black pinprick before vanishing without sound.
---
Silence.
Again.
The only sound left was the drip… drip… of something leaking nearby.
Sora wiped the blood from his lip. His legs trembled slightly. His vision blurred.
> "Tch."
He'd pushed himself too far. Again.
He sat down on the edge of the broken platform, breathing slowly, trying to calm the backlash that was already turning his ribs into fire.
---
The earpiece crackled.
> "Kazehaya. You did it. The readings dropped to zero."
"Kazehaya? …Sora?"
He didn't answer.
He was listening to something else.
There was a sound now.
Not from the tunnel.
From inside.
Inside his own mind.
A voice.
Soft. Cold. Familiar.
> "You took too much," it whispered. "You're unraveling."
His eyes flicked to the shadows beneath his feet.
They twitched.
Twisted.
Formed the shape of a crescent moon.
> "Shōkyo…" he murmured. The Hollow Star was stirring again. Every time he used too much void, it whispered louder. Its hunger pressed against his mind.
> "Soon," it said.
"You'll disappear. And I'll take your place."
---
Footsteps.
Sora looked up.
A figure in a blindfold was standing on the stairs above him.
> Satoru Gojo.
He was smiling—but the kind of smile that wasn't playful. It was tight. Concerned.
> "I told them it was too soon to send you on solo missions."
Sora stayed seated. "I neutralized the target."
Gojo tilted his head. "Yeah. But at what cost?"
Sora didn't answer.
Gojo stepped down beside him, looking at the melted station and the void-burnt tiles. Then, at Sora's trembling hands.
> "You're getting stronger," Gojo said. "But not stable."
He reached into his pocket and tossed something into Sora's lap.
A pack of grape-flavored gum.
Sora blinked.
> "You're seventeen," Gojo said. "Act like it once in a while."
---
Sora stared at the gum for a long time.
Then, with slow fingers, he unwrapped one and popped it into his mouth.
He chewed.
Gojo sat beside him, letting the silence sit between them like an old friend.
> "You're afraid," Sora said quietly.
"Afraid I'll become like him."
Gojo didn't answer right away.
Then:
> "No. I'm afraid you'll become something even worse."
---