Warnings: None

Onmyōdō

Chapter 06:

"Defy Fate"

A day had passed since I'd discovered the existence called Todo, and all I wanted to do was sleep.

I pillowed my head on my school bag, my friend Emi looking thoughtfully from the side. We sat at a knot of desks in the back of the class while other students dragged their desks together to eat their boxed lunches, most of the class watching the ongoing baseball game outside.

"So, what was it that you did again?" Emi asked

"Sleep," I groaned. "I want to go to sleep."

"Oh, c'mon, Yui," said Emi. "You look like a zombie. Now spill me the details!"

I lifted my chin and set it on the bag, staring at my friend with an expression most baleful. How the hell was I meant to explain to them yesterday's disaster? "Oh, hey gurl, I was just running through the rain like a madman till I found a crotchety thirteen-year-old who was by chance a character from an anime series that existed in another world I used to call home, treat him to noodles, get glared at, and then sneak home late only to get caught by my fucking terrifying bunny donned Grandpa who promised to rain hellfire upon me when I get home tonight. Now isn't that interesting?"

"Look—I was up studying late, that's all." I put my forehead back on my bag. "It's no big deal."

"Uh-huh. Sure." Said Emi, a slow smile creeping up. "You'd tell me if it was a boy, right? Because Sachiko from class B saw you snuggled up with a boy yesterday in the rain."

I sat up. I glared. She was not intimidated.

"People are starting to talk, Yui," Emi sighed, patting my back. "You're always saying that you're too busy to hang out, and you turned down all those upperclassmen…"

I groaned, banging my head on the table. Shortly after school had started a month ago, a tenth grader had asked me out, to which I refused. A couple of others tried their luck but received the same response. Apparently the guys hadn't taken it well when I said I wasn't interested in dating. Rumours started spreading shortly thereafter: Yui is frigid; Yui is stuck up; and, apparently, Yui acts old, which was so ironic that it was almost funny.

I knew the gossiping kids were inexpertly baiting me for a reaction, hoping to find a guilty conscience. Apparently, it was strange that I would refuse to date, despite the numerous offers from boys in the year. You see, OBJECTIVELY, the body I'd been reincarnated into was what I guess one would call attractive. I had smooth skin and a small nose, with soft features and serene smile. Frankly, I wasn't sure if it was because I was born in an anime, or if I'm related to the protagonist and by default can't look bad—but Yui was good looking. As absurd and surreal as the whirlwind melodrama of school politics seemed to me, this got me involved in a way I never was before in the past, by apparent virtue of my appearance and persona alone. Soon I discovered being a rogue entity outside of the traditional cliques made many of Sugisawa's upper echelon hostile by default.

"People think you're too high strung," said Emi. She held a finger aloft as she made a solemn decree. "You need to go on at least one date, Yui, or at least socialize some more. People are calling you an old maid, or worse—a hussy!"

It took every ounce of self-control I possessed to not snark at her. Despite the pressures to enter a relationship, children dating at this young age didn't sit right with me. To them, boyfriend and girlfriend was just a title with nothing really behind it. I was three times their mental age, and was much more mature than them in the woes of dating. Any kind of romantic relationship would be low key paedophilic, and I'd feel like an adult cougar no matter how it ended up happening.

I thought that I could find relief in the female population of the school, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Rather than a straightforward teen-movie hierarchy, the girls in this school mapped out a full-fledged geopolitical landscape based somehow on popularity. A proving-ground arena, complete with power plays, counterintelligence operations, third-party negotiations, and of course—sabotage smear campaigns. I found myself approached more than once by what I began to think of as investigatory commissions, rigidly smiling parties asking which guy I was interested in, and what I thought of Yukimura, or Yamano, or Seishi. Once again, I wondered if this was how japan schooling systems worked or if it was because I lived in a literal anime. Seems kind of ridiculous considering their age.

Somehow in the middle of all that, I ended up befriending Emi, who was likely the sole reason I wasn't the schools local outcast. Although she was certainly invested in rising up ranks our faux-parliament, she didn't seem to mind helping me along the way. And god did I need it.

Tamping down the urge to snap at her, I plastered on my most patient, warm, Itadori-grade smile. It fit my face like a glove made for a child's hand, but I wore it well.

"I know you're worried about me, but I'll be fine," I said, with warmth and patience and firm determination. "You know I'm not interested in that. Besides, I'm busy with other things."

"I refuse to believe someone as smart and pretty as you doesn't have a social life because of their grades," Emi said, crossing her arms. "What's the real reason, hmm?"

I cradled my head in my hands, ready to give up. Though Emi was kind hearted enough to foster me, she never gave up when it came to my social life. Not that I could blame her. My excuses for refusing to mingle weren't very good. 'I worry it will affect my grades' was only plausible for so long, since my grades never dipped below straight A's no matter what I did.

Luckily Emi didn't get the chance to interrogate me for long. Soon one of our classmates class asked me to help with her English homework. So much for my nap. I tried my best not to yawn while assisting her with her exercises. Grateful for the distraction, really. At least this kept the questions at bay. Wouldn't it be nice if this distraction lasted—

Suddenly, the feeling of some thick darkness crept across the classroom walls, a darkness of an almost viscous weight, pressing upon my face and bearing down against my clothing. The hairs on my arms prickled, and the terrible sensation grew even thicker.

I spun in my seat, sending my chair screeching as it skid across the tiled floor. My eyes zipped across the lockers at the back of the classroom, searching for something—anything out of ordinary. Nothing. When I realized there was nothing there, I sucked in a breath, trying to calm my racing heart.

The feeling had gone as soon as it had come, but I could have sworn someone—no, something had been watching me.

Rubbing my temple, I turned back to my desk, only then realizing that the entire classroom had gone silent. Emi and the rest of my classmates stared at me like I was some strange specimen, slightly perturbed by the sudden reaction.

Crap.

I chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of my head.

"Sorry, mosquito bit me?"

A refreshing feeling came down on me as I pushed open the school library's double-doors and walked through the detector, glad to be over with class for the day. As usual, the computer lab there was full of students playing computer games or reading articles, but today I made a point to make eye contact and compose a friendly smile for one or two of them. I could see the reason in Emi's advice, so I might as well make the effort.

They'll eventually notice I'm not all that unapproachable right?

Sugisawa Middle School was a sprawling relic primarily made up of old-fashioned classrooms and hallways. All of the older, outdated structures, aside from the cafeteria, auditorium, and administrative buildings had been razed to make way for new high school facilities. The only thing that made it okay was the shared school library, docked full of modern and ancient texts donated from the nearby Tohoku university. I spent most my lunch breaks here, researching all and anything I could find on Japanese folklore and mythology in hopes of finding anything related the cursed spirits and practices. Most of it was pure hodgepodge junk, but with what I remembered from my past life, I could connect the dots.

From what I'd collected in the past three years and a bit, cursed spirits—or simply curses—were a race of spiritual beings manifested from cursed energy. Supposedly, their origins were widely unknown, however it could be summarised that because cursed energy comes from negative emotions, curses have always existed alongside humanity. Their creation was cryptic, but from what I could guess, cursed energy probably built up like sediment until a cursed sprit takes form in its place.

Their bodies were supposedly entirely made up of cursed energy, and it was because of that, that their metaphysical existence made it impossible for non-sorcerers to perceive or touch them. Ancient texts described that living humans who have been cursed can only tell they have strange symptoms without realized a cursed spirit is behind it. It was the non-sorcerers whose lives are put in danger by a curse that gain the ability to see them in a life-or-death situation.

This particular piece of knowledge had left me stumped, because if this was true, then it meant that I should be able to use cursed energy. I could see curses ever since I was born, and I'd never been in a life-or-death situation with one.

Populated places such as schools and hospitals were hot spots for bearing curses because of the many negative amotions associated with memories of those place. Bullying, tests, sickness, depression—you name it. This lead to the reason I bemoaned the schooling year. Spirits that I could once bypass now had to be batted away with a broom. The ones that were too dangerous to fight I just straight up ran from. What should be one of the more peaceful and memorable points of my lifetime turned out to be a dangerous game of duck, duck, goose, except that I'm the goose, and that there's no end to the running.

Another thing I learned—albeit this came more from my own experiences—was that feeling, the same one I felt back in the classroom earlier. The one back there was likely a passing spirit that I'd identified a grade four or three at worst. Admittedly not that high, but hey, Sendai is as tiny as a city could get. The way I was able to identify and sense the cursed spirit was by its Juryoku amount and density. Cursed spirits exuded off Juryoku, kinda like how a radiator does with heat, so when they were in the near area or focused their energy on something—or someone—it was noticeable. I'd seen it happen a few times, things like flickering lightbulbs or fire extinguishing, and I'd felt other times too—once again, like earlier. It kind of made sense though. How else did sorcerers pick out hiding spirits? If I had to make a comparison, I guess sorcerers were some sort of quasi-cursed energy smoke detector? Except without all the screaming, and beeping and… well, it was perhaps not the best analogy, but it works for me.

Turing a corner, I found my usual table corner vacant as usual, untouched as well—none of the books I'd collected there yesterday had been removed and put back on shelves. Having exhausted all of my other earlier ideas on how to have a shot at fighting back, I was finally assuming a worst-case scenario in my current topic of study. I was now reading up on how to draw freaking Japanese talismans.

A hopefully not-too-dated Exorcizing Your Demons for Dummies rested atop a small mountain of related material on ancient Japanese talisman texts. The librarian head had been endlessly enthusiastic to help an eager young learner find sources of reference, taken with the fact that I was somewhat interested in ancient Japanese history and folklore. "Not enough youngsters appreciating our great history," he'd said. Wasn't what I had in mind exactly, but as long as I got the right books, I felt no need to correct him.

Since I couldn't seem to conjure any cursed energy, that left me with the second-best option: cursed items—that being Juryoku infused talismans or weaponry. From what I could recollect, cursed items were objects capable of holding cursed energy. That could then be used to injure, seal or repel curses, though this depended on the type and intention of the design. Their main advantage—and what lead me to pursue them—was that these items didn't require any cursed energy from the user themselves. You either took it from the air around you, or found a cursed relic soaked up with enough cursed energy to supply it. Given my status as a human-smoke detector, that should have been easy enough. If I could create some weapon, it would open up so many avenues previously blocked to me. So what if I could access the cursed energy inside me? If I had an enchanted pitchfork, that would do just as well. Only problem was, all my recent attempts to try this had failed. I couldn't remember if any of this was true, not for sure—and the more I tried, the less sure of anything I was. Any knowledge I had was second hand at best, which left me feeling lost and powerless. The future never seemed quite so nebulous as it does when you start second-guessing yourself.

There was also the sobering idea that nothing I might attempt would ever work out. Maybe in the end I wouldn't be able to change anything for the better, and this reality was locked in certain ways beyond my understanding. Unchangeable. Would I regret getting myself involved, then, or would I once again begin to despise the hidden powers-that-be?

I hated how much this terrified me. I didn't want to form some sort of God complex, thinking I can do anything and save anyone. But, at the same time… I'd hate myself a little—maybe more than a little—if I knew what's going to happen and remain indifferent to it.

Either way, I thought, thumping open a book to read. All I could do was try.

"Are you done with your homework yet?"

I jumped. The top of my head collided with the bottom of Yuji's jaw, his teeth clacked together as pain electrified my scalp.

"Ow!" I said.

"Ouch!" he said. He clutched his cheeks in both hands and threw himself across the bed. "Your head's even harder than mine!"

I snagged a pillow off my bed and chucked it at him. He caught it and threw it back. I stuck out my tongue. "It's harder than yours because I'm smarter than you."

"Nah, just more stubborn! Remember when you'd nag me about finishing my homework?"

I rolled my eyes. "Sure do, Mr. future gas station attendant."

"Better than a workaholic." He chuckled.

I turned back to my work with a grumble, glaring at Yuji from the corner of my eye. He layed with hands behind his head, foot crossed over one knee, feet bopping to the rock music playing in the background. My younger brother had grown over the course of the past few years. Rather than the cute and adorable face of his early childhood years, the now nine-year-old Yuji was much leaner, taller, and—who would expect—stronger. His hair had grown longer and was still as pink and spiky as ever, but the sides were now stained a strange dark brown. Naturally brown and pink, mind you. I'd always thought his hair was dyed, but apparently not. My own hair was plain pink, no random streaks or partitions of colour present—and thank god for that. I didn't know what I'd do if I ended up looking like a certain boy styling a millennium puzzle.

"Speaking of you being an enormous nerd, why'd you stop nagging me about homework, anyway?"

I flipped a page. "Do you want me to start nagging you again?"

He shivered. "No! No way. I'd rather eat a needle."

"That's what I thought." I wrote a new answer. "To answer your question, you never do your work no matter how much I nag, and nagging gets boring, so I stopped."

I tried, I really did, but it was impossible to keep Yuji in line. For Kami's sake, he and I had all the same opinions about school! I hated the same classes he hated, had the same (lack of) desire to be stuck in a classroom as he did, and harboured the same disdain for our academic material as him. He hated the material because he was lazy and I hated it because it wasn't challenging, but still—same hate, if not different flavours.

Yuji stuck his tongue out, stretching his dirty feet all over my pillow. "Blah, homework's boring anyway."

"Yuji—gross!" I got up and shoved him off the quilts. "Seriously, you're so gross! Did you even wash your feet?"

He grinned, "Maybe?"

Before things could get physical, Wasuke's stern voice called down the narrow hallway. "Yui! Can you go deliver this package to Aunt Mikoto for me?"

I gave a final glare to my heathen of a brother before yelling a 'Coming!' I scooted off my chair and out of the room, grabbing my woollen sweater hanging by the door.

Ten minutes later and I arrived at Aunt Mikoto's dinner. Creeping in through the backdoor, I handed over the package—likely filled with some of our home-grown greens—to a beaming Mikoto. She thanked me with a beatific smile, telling me to thank grandpa for her and demanding I take some complementary ramen take-away for us to enjoy at home. I accepted it gratefully and turned to move away, but before I could scramble back home, Mikoto's face lit up and a called after me to holler that Todo had just been over.

My eyebrows rose at the news. Seems like he took up her offer after all. Couldn't blame him though. Mikoto's cooking was delicious. "He's not too far from here you know? Why don't you go and greet the sweet kid, yeah?" I rolled my eyes, thanking her all the same. I wasn't really in the mood to stalk after the rambunctious child—especially after last time.

As I started walking out to the dinners front exit, I let my shoulders sag. Finally, I could go back and finish my homework, be by myself, and start up some more research into writing talismans. I think I was getting close to writing a somewhat functional seal of my own—one that I think could hold cursed energy. The first one I found had been a complete mistake, some messy symbol I'd found in a cryptic book that held a slight—but perceptible—amount of cursed energy. I scrawled the symbol onto a piece of paper, wrote a few notes and brought it home to study in my own time. Some parts of it was missing, so I just had to figure out to fix it and recreate one for myself. With what I could do with it, I wasn't sure. Things imbued with Juryoku could harm curses, right? So maybe if I attached it to a kitchen knife…

Just then, the doors to the restaurant opened behind me. Three people walked out, sliding each other concerned glances. I slipped between the tables and headed for the main entry, considering the ways in which I could use the talismans to weaponize—

"…scary-looking," I heard one of the patrons say.

"Yeah," said the other. "Very scary!"

"Oh, my, what do you think they were up to?"

"Nothing good," said the patron. "They were waiting on the corner and when another boy walked by, they followed him."

"I'm worried they might be mugging people!" said the first customer. "Should we call the police?"

I stopped in my tracks and turned. The two women, auntie-aged and wearing thick coats to combat the chilly weather, stared at the third woman with plaintive expressions.

"Gosh," the woman said. She put her hand to her mouth. "Yes, yes, let me get my phone. We should definitely call the police."

Boy…? No, it couldn't—could it?

Before I knew it, I found myself before the haggle of aunties. "I'm sorry, I overheard. The boy they followed—did he come out of this restaurant? Was he wearing, uh, a white singlet? Buzzcut? My friend just left here, and—"

As one, the aunties paled.

My stomach plummeted into my ankles.

Without another word, or any thought to my actions, I dropped the ramen and sprinted down the street.

I found them a few blocks away. They hadn't gotten far. Honestly it's sort of miraculous I found them at all, but I didn't have time to ponder what twist of fate allowed me to locate Todo that night.

He was hidden inside the dark of a secluded alleyway, a strip of empty space between two buildings, three teenage punks, many years older, surrounding him—some bearing knives. I sucked in a breath when I noticed beside them was another teen, slumped against the dirty wall unconscious. In the fitful light of the streetlamp at the alley's mouth I saw dark liquid sluice across his chin—bloody nose, probably, or worse.

It seemed like I'd just arrived just as the conflict started, because before I could think of what to do next, one of the teens moved into action.

The moment Todo saw that flying punch, his vision tunnelled. His breath came out slow, and his hands clenched.

He caught the first punk swinging his fist from behind. Messy kick to the back of the knee, elbow strike to the neck as he fell, then a shove to the shoulder that sent him careening into the hard ground—only, he'd misjudged the width of this alley. Todo heard the crack of his nose as it collided with the brick wall comprising the alley's edge, and he watched with satisfaction as he slid to the ground and to lay very, very still.

The two other bugs cried out in anger. They yelled something, eyes wide and teeth bared. He didn't hear them. He sank into a ready-stance as one of the punks pulled back a fist and lobbed it at him. The thug moved like a rolling boulder, predictable and sluggish. Todo traced the path of his trajectory in the air before he'd even finished throwing the punch.

Countering came easy: Quick side-step. Spin. Get behind him. Punt to the neck, another kick to the knee, and solid strike with his foot to the back of his head. He fell flat on his face. He'd have a concussion, forehead colliding with the ground the way it did.

The last guy said something. Once more he didn't hear. He spun around as the last punk leapt over one of his friends and came at him with arms spread, trying for a grapple. Todo grabbed his wrist and twisted, letting his own momentum carry him past him even as he manipulated his arm and dragged it up behind his back. The punk yelped at the pain, but Todo just buried his free hand deep into his hair, shoved a foot into his hamstring, and slammed him to the ground—the weight of his body crushing his free arm. He put his foot on the back of his knee to keep him pinned. One yank and he'd tear the arm from the socket or rip out his hair. He knelt before him with whimpers of pain, and to Todo's disappointment he felt the fight drain out of him.

Keeping his grip on the last conscious punk, the thug ground out, "Fucking psycho bastard."

Todo yanked, and a cry of pain was heard.

Boring.

I watched in horror as the last thug fell lifeless, arm bent out at an awkward angle.

"T-Todo?"

He froze up when he heard my weak call, body perking up to look for danger. He relaxed when he saw me, the same disinterest masking his face—all semblances from that god awful grin disappearing under its visage.

"Are you o-okay?"

He nodded, a slight dip of the head.

Oh. Good.

Good.

Sighing in relief, I pushed back my bangs, and fixed Todo with a pointed glare.

Why he was cornered?

According to the aunties, they'd been waiting around for him at the restaurant until he left. So was this attack provoked, or just a simple robbery? I'd like to think it was the former, but who'd mug a kid? Nothing worth taking, I'd imagine. You'd have more luck mugging a grandma.

Despite knowing who he was, deep inside, I had faith for the child. I knew Todo was battle crazed, but surely he wasn't one to mess with gangsters—ones with knives at that.

Buckling up my courage, I rose my voice to speak. "…Can I ask what happened?"

Todo's eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he hesitated, as if contemplating whether or not he should answer. In the end, I guess he decided it was safe.

"I beat one of their friends up because he annoyed me." He paused. "I guess they wanted revenge, so they followed me."

What.

I casted my eyes skyward, mouth screwed up in a cross between a frown and a grimace—trying to sort through my exasperation and frustration. My eyes roved across the alley until they locked on one of the punks. I lurched past him, stiff as a mannequin, and stopped near the unconscious forms.

I took a deep breath and pointed at the listless thug, holding a sharp, metallic blade. "What were you thinking!?" I screeched, waving my hands in exclamation. "I know you think you're strong, but—" he could probably beat ten of those thugs with a spoon, but still, "—Kami, they could have seriously hurt you!"

He crossed his arms over his chest and let out a scoff. "Those weaklings couldn't scratch me."

I rolled my eyes. "Tell that to the knife. The three inch serrated knife."

"Knives wouldn't have made a difference." He scowled. "And they didn't even know how to use them."

"And how do you know that? What if they did?"

"Then I'd still win. I'm stronger. Besides," His glare hardened. Eyes turned frozen like chipped, rigid obsidian. "Why do you care?"

I nearly winced at the ice in his voice, schooling my face into passive indifference. Todo had a point. Why did I care? Objectively, I guess my interest in him stemmed from the fact he was one of the main characters—an instinctive interest in an individual from a story I'd watched a whole lifetime ago, but it wasn't like I could tell him that. Still, I was worried for the kid, now more than ever—and whether if it was artificial or not wasn't important. Initially, I'd believed Todo to have been a brutal fighter who'd found joy in combat, living fir the thrill of the fight. But now, at least for the younger Todo, it seemed that there was a darkness about it bubbling underneath. Did he uses combat to fill the gaps in his own heart and mind? Or was it something more mundane than that? Either way, seeing such childish recklessness just didn't sit right with me, and I didn't want to let it pass without taking any action.

I started to voice a reply, hoping to diffuse the growing ire, but Todo cut in before I could start.

"I don't know why you're doing this, but I don't need someone worrying about me, or coddling me like I'm a baby." He stalked up, expression unchanged despite the bitter words, and I flinched when he grabbed me by the collar. "You know nothing about me, so fuck off."

It's embarrassing how much being told he hated me stung. It stung so badly I sort of forgot how to talk, a fact that surprised even me.

Still, I wasn't one to let down, especially after being rejected so harshly.

Todo searched my face for a moment before making a harsh tch sound between his teeth. Call it blind fury, call it stupidity, but when he turned to move away, I grabbed the back of his shirt, the beginnings of a retort forming in my throat before a rigid slimy feeling ran down my back. The nightly ambience grew quiet, and the street lights from the alley mouth flickered, the sight of Todo's pale face coming in and out of existence. I heard the buzz of electricity, a dead hum sounding as light faded off into the inky night, blacking out for good.

A familiar sense of obscure doom. Something worse than death.

I turned around slowly, Todo doing the same, the stench of rotting flesh invading the air.

Behind them, barely visible in the darkened veil of the street was a mass of spindly limbs and arching claws. Eyes flashed red, grotesque squelching heard as the monstrosity lumbered forward. Ringing horror enveloped me, and I felt my grip loosen to a fall, staring in shock at the slowly forming beast illuminated by moonlight.

Shit.

Neither of us waited for it to begin charging.

Two more blocks.

Slender arms pumped up and down, heavy, ragged breaths leaving chapped lips as I shot down the street, scuffed up shoes hitting the concrete at a rapid pace.

You're almost there.

A strange, gripping sense of anxiety and fear was beginning to fill me as I panted, feeling my muscles strain against the sudden onslaught as I quickly contemplate whether or not to duck down and alley or continue on the streets.

Behind me heavy steps pounded the pavement, a spindly form of intertwined limbs shot after. I'd caught the glint of a razor-sharp teeth and claws earlier, and I didn't intend to stick around long enough to see it use them.

Filled with a new sense of fear and adrenaline, I gritted my teeth and pushed forward, whipping around a corner and ducking down an alleyway that would open up into another street, leading me closer to home, or at least to somewhere I could get some help.

A snarl sounded behind me and tears threatened to form, but the cold wind whipping past me tore them all away as I panted heavily, wishing, praying—almost there, almost there.

Neither Todo nor I had waited for the monster to begin tailing us when we broke off into a sprint. I didn't know when we split up, or when it started following me alone as I raced for what could possibly be my life.

Sendai was safe, at least I had thought that. I'd never seen a curse like this before, not one that was so scary—so aggressive. The cursed spirits here shouldn't have been so dangerous here—nothing like the ones in Tokyo at least. But looking back at the torsioned limbs, and the frayed skin, and claws, and teeth—I knew this thing could easily kill me.

It was only now that I realized that the string of semblance I'd felt earlier was indeed true. It was that same slimy, suffocating feeling I'd felt earlier today—back in class. But even then, it didn't feel this repulsive, nor as dense. Could spirits hide their energy—mask it so that it's invisible or at a lower grade? Is that how that curse managed to sneak up on us without realizing?

Another shriek cried behind me and I pumped even faster, throwing that thought aside for later.

It was different, so much more different from all the other times I'd encountered other curses. I knew eventually I'd probably experience something like this—and probably worse—and though I knew it would happen, it still felt so far. One could never imagine something like that happening to them—no one would ever want to imagine something like that happening to them. In my brain, I'd somehow instinctually thought that when it started, I'd be old enough and experienced enough to handle the problem myself. In crazed fear, I nearly laughed at the irony.

Things were meant to be toned down right now. My childhood was meant to be one of the more calm points of my life, and yet I was feeling so scared—so fucking scared.

Two more blocks, take the back alley and round the corner. I shot forward, some part in the back of my mind wondering how amazed Yuji would be to see me running this fast for once as the growling curse grew closer, not looking forward to loosing it's meal for the night. I kept my small legs pumping, my oversized sweater bunching up around me as I ran, panting heavily as I ducked down another alley.

My scuffed-up shoes skidded to a halt and I nearly fell over as I stopped, chest heaving up and down as my eyes went wide with fear.

The rusty metal fence gazed back at me, taunting, not at all realizing what hopes it had just shattered to pieces as my eyes went wide with horror as my mind raced, backtracking and realizing I must have taken a wrong turn too soon.

Dead end.

For once, a different sort of fear gripped my heart. It wasn't the jumpy fear from scary movies or pissing Grandpa Wasuke off when I got hurt or did something dumb, nor was it anything like the fear that came from worrying about the future events. This fear was raw—wild, it left my knees trembling and my chest heaving, a sick, churning feeling in my stomach as the walls seemed to close in on me.

The cries were growing closer, it was too late for me to duck out and take a different way. Metal glittered in the faint light of the moon and I lunged, gripping the chain link fence in my fingers and hauled myself upwards. The fence rattled beneath me, jingling and alerting my pursuer to where I was.

My heart was hammering wildly, hands growing clammy as I pulled higher and higher, struggling to reach the top of the fence to pull over the top and to possible freedom. Almost there. Almost there. My eyes glittered fiercely despite the fear and I gritted my teeth, tugging my small body upwards. You can make it.

Suddenly, grimy hands clamped down on my jumper and my eyes went wide with fear and horror as I got tugged harshly downwards. I felt myself teeter, but I clamped onto the iron gated face tightly, refusing to give ground. I heard the jumper tear, and found myself being lurched forward across to the fence. I felt the world rushing around me as I was tossed to the ground. The cold cement hit me like a slap to the face and I blinked once, dazed as the shadows danced around. The cage rattled behind me, and I sucked in a breath, turning back to look my pursuer in the face.

Dark eyes, beady. Claws and razor appendages. Raw sinew and amalgamated limbs that rattled the fence over and over and over—

Move. Don't look back.

Within seconds I was scrambling upwards, launching forward and away. I didn't turn around again, afraid to see if it was still following after me. Minutes later and I found myself past the familiar vegetable crates and at the backdoor of my house, throwing the door open and slamming it shut. My breaths were ragged and short, veins pumping after the near-death encounter.

When the adrenaline left me, I collapsed to my feet. My lip trembled, teeth clamping down on the appendage as I refused to let the tears flow. I wasn't sad, nor was I scared. No. Instead, pale brown irises glittered coldly, and I wiped the corners of my eyes with the sleeves of my sweater.

I was frustrated.

It frustrated me knowing that it was only by pure luck that I made it out alive today. In that situation I found there was nothing I could do to defend myself, and in another future, I would be dead—food for that cursed spirit at the fence.

As hard as it was to accept, I was weak and powerless and in the past thirteen years, I'd made no real progress—only ideas, ideas that I never end up following. In the future, I'd be dealing with perils far worse, special grade curses that could split me in two, or transfigure me into some gimpy doll with the touch of a hand. How was I going to survive if I couldn't even deal with that thing from before? For years I'd been telling myself—lying to myself that I still had time, that I'd eventually figure out some way. It was easy to say that I still had just under a decade before I'd have buck up—but deep inside, I knew that wasn't true. Today was proof of that.

Talismans and taekwondo wouldn't cut it.

I needed power, and I needed it fast. If I couldn't figure out how to harness my cursed energy, I had to find someone who could.

Clenching my fists, I wiped my eyes clean of tears, resolving my will.

I'd been avoiding doing anything big in fear of its repercussions. But right now—whether or not my plan worked, and no matter how turbulent the ripples it cast—I had a fate to defy.

A/N:

HELLO! So happy to finally be back and writing with the first term of school ending, especially after such a long hiatus. I hope I made up for it with the incredibly long chapter and the whole lot of work that I put into this story while I was gone.

Recently, I felt like I haven't been putting my best foot into writing this story. Honestly, I was riding on the high at getting this much attention (I literally expected only like 20 follows in the first six months lol), and that led me to writing chapters as fast as I could without really thinking things through. I took the break to really reel in, and set my mind on what to write. A lot of effort was put into this chapter, so I hope you guys enjoy it :)

NOW, onto what was in the chapter.

I tried my best not to make Yui too smart or pretty, but if we're being realistic here, name one person in the main cast is not smokin' hot? I feel like it'd just be unrealistic making her average for petty reasons such as not wanting her to be a Mary Sue, so although Yui IS good looking, I tried to make it so that it wouldn't get to her head. In regards to intelligence, once again, she's a thirty-year-old in a middle school curriculum, so of course she won't have any troubles. It's a different story for years 11 and 12 though, with calculus and whatnot.

I feel like some people are going to be kind of pissed off at how Todo acted? It was rather harsh, yes, I admit, but I think this is how I'd react in Todo's position. Some new girl comes barging into your life, suddenly caring about you, and you're meant to react to that positively? To Todo, Yui looks like some pampered child with a loving family who's ignorant of how troubling life really is. Seeing her tramping up to yell 'it's dangerous!' and 'why would you do that!' when all he's ever known is this violence is quite aggravating. What right does she have to care for him when nobody else ever has in his life. I feel like if I were in that situation and didn't know Todo (or met him once or twice previously), I wouldn't even speak out. I'd just look on in shock or run off to call the police, so Todo was low key surprised she didn't do just that. In the end, Yui's interest stems from him being a main character in Jujutsu Kaisen. I don't think she actively cares for him above that (at least not above anybody else, albeit he was one her favored characters), given that she hasn't had much time to learn about him, and since Todo doesn't know this he just can't figure out why Yui cares. Anyways, that's just my thoughts on the matter, so I hope it was authentic?

P.S. What did you guys think of the change in POV? Personally, I'm not a fan if it when reading stories myself. I just want it to go back to the main character, because I don't really care about whoever's side POV I'm in. When writing it though, it was kinda fun. Tell me what you think. Would you like more of it, the same-ish amount, or none at all?

P.S.S. First bit of action came in this chapter and I was STOKED. So much fun writing it, so tell me what you thought!

Prize to whoever can guess what Yui's plan is!

Once again, thank you so much to, SumeragiByakuren, The Below Average, Xielle Sky, OriginalDrumy, Valen Goncalvez, frailityofgenius, Madam3Mayh3m, No-Shmucks-Given45, Nashane, Books-n-Harleys, Sunrise-Escapist, MissLingerie, Slimesam, best boy, girigurl, yellowmichaela, Citopal, T0aster Man, Me2, Rubydragon, nakamura1miu, CocoaFirefly, Minty220, Blanky-Chan, and cl9763 for reviewing.

Some of you guys gave me a lot of advice that I really appreciated. Thanks for feedback!

Until next time!

Gridly.