Lie 3:

"You Don't Frighten Me"

Megumi's Point of View

The first period might be ended, but the euphoria it causes stays with me until the rest of the day—or so I thought.

After a pleasing and enjoyable two hours of the economics class—mostly thanks to this handsome and kind senior I've been crushing since forever—the dreaded school bell rings again to inform the changing of the period. Mr. Nanami clears out his desk without missing a beat and steps out of the classroom right after the bell. Rumor says that he hates staying even one second longer outside his schedule, and actually, that's a good personal rule. A completely different attitude from my father who—wait, why the hell do I even bother talking about him? Let's move on.

Anyway, I step out of the classroom while still chatting with Okkotsu-senpai who, by the way, allowed me to call him just 'Yuuta'. I immediately replied that he could also call me by my given name, to which he replied, "Yeah, haha, I already did." And not to be dramatic or what, but in my head, we are already dating and went on multiple dates before he proposed to me, and we get married, and we had beautiful children together and—

"Earth to Megumi! Hello!" Nobara claps his hands right in front of my face. It jolts me so hard that I unconsciously bump my head to my locker where, apparently, I've been leaning on. The pain stings but not as bad as my embarrassment.

"Yeah, it's hurt when you fall from cloud nine. I could almost see the hearts beaming from your eyes." Nobara crosses his arms above his chest, basically staring at me with his nose. I must have been pretty obvious in looking at Yuuta's back when he walks away down the corridor. And yes, of course, Nobara knows about my fixation on Yuuta. I mean, how could I not tell him? Better to tell him this one rather than the fact that I'm a witch. Oh, yeah, and Yuuji knows too.

Yuuji just gives a quick glance in the direction where Yuuta disappears, mumbling to herself, "Does he got taller again?", before turning her attention back to us. "Anyway, what do you guys get for the next period?"

I immediately reach for my phone and open my gallery, looking for my schedule this semester that I screenshotted from the school's website last night. Nobara also does the same because we share an opinion that it's a waste of effort to write down the schedule in this digital time and age.

And he says with such annoyance, "Damn it! I got Physics!"

This is due to the fact that the teacher responsible for the subject is no other than the Gojo Satoru, a.k.a. Mr. Gojo the-smartest-person-in-the-room Satoru, a.k.a. the most handsome man in all Jujutsu International High for ten years in a row, a.k.a Mr. Perfectly Fine by Taylor Swift. If only his method of teaching doesn't include pulling pranks on students and leaving them to their own devices for dangerous experiments, I bet Nobara wouldn't hate him as much, considering STEM is Nobara's favorite subject. But what do I know? He might still hate Mr. Gojo even if he's not as annoying. It's just that Nobara has this innate and primal jealousy toward men that are more handsome, more popular, richer, and smarter than him. And yes, that is precisely what Gojo Satoru sums up in a few adjectives.

Yuuji tries to cheer up Nobara by saying, "Gojo-sensei isn't that bad, you know." Nobara instantly replies with a literal speech of hundred reasons to hate Gojo Satoru.

I put their bickering as white noises for a second, focusing back on my own schedule.

'P.E., huh?' I thought to myself. I was about just to shrug it off before I remember that I entirely despise Physical Education. Nobody—and I mean nobody, including Yuuta—could ever change my opinion about P.E. My hatred is just as strong as Nobara to Gojo; no way it could be reversed. My blood boils immediately and the euphoria from seconds ago flies out the window.

"But I also get P.E.!" says Yuuji, now clinging to me as if her cute little swing of my arm would change my mind after I said that I don't want to attend my next class. "Can you at least reconsider? Imagine how fun it would be with me together with you this time! We can talk about cute boys while nobody's looking, or—"

"Sorry, Yuu, but a no is a no," I cut her firm and solid, trying to give her my coldest look.

Her happy face immediately crumbles; her smile is now upside-down. Her big honey-colored eyes look at me with pleading. "But why? You can't run away from your dad forever, Gumi!"

Yep. That is the main reason: my dad. If Fushiguro Toji isn't the one who Principal Yaga accepted as the new P.E. teacher when he was desperate to find money years ago, I might not hate P.E. as much. Hell, I might excel in it! I'm almost as athletic as Yuuji and I was even on the girls' basketball team in middle school. But I know for a fact that I don't want to show any effort in front of my dad, or he will tease me relentlessly until the end of time.

'It mustn't have been that bad,' you say? Well, do you know how annoying teenage boys used to pick on girls when she's doing big moves that any 'other girls' do not usually do? Like pulling on alley-oops from the end lines or tree-points-shots without even sweating? They treat it like such a big deal and would call her like they were catcalling. Finds it uncomfortable enough? Imagine the one doing it to you is your own dad. The problem is that, if with any other boys, you could just call it a day by going straight home, you can't really do that with your dad because you share the same roof.

'No, he does that because he's proud of you.' Maybe. But if you don't know Fushiguro Toji as well as I do, you better shut up. He literally will tease me in anything I do. Could you imagine if I were ever in his class and he shouts in front of the other kids, "Yeah, run, Gumi, run! Show 'em the result of your veggie diet! Those skinny legs better stay intact until the finish line!" I swear to God, I'd rather feign injury and flunk myself to the ground voluntarily.

So, I literally put all my effort and drained my energy back in middle school because I had a plan to be as plain as possible in high school. And I did! The plan is already on the move, so why would I turn the course just because one of my two best friends begs me for it?

"One of these days you might run out of excuses to skip his class. He will see right through your lies and might as well give you an 'F' this semester," says Yuuji, now threatening me.

I literally laugh—a kinda evil laugh, that even Yuuji and Nobara look at me in surprise. "Believe me, he knows. And hell, if he wants to expel me from this school, he could! But he didn't, right? Do you know why? Because he already put so much money into my education that he'd rather use them for gambling. He'd be damned if I drop out of school just because of one subject, and his class, moreover."

Seeing my evil grin makes Yuuji and Nobara back away a little. Thank goodness another bell rings to indicate the end of the 5-minute in-between-periods break. Nobara immediately takes that opportunity to scurry away while saying, "Well, had to show Satoru who got a better style, so…."

But Yuuji still stares at me in concern for a minute, before saying, "Okay, I'll tell your dad that you're on your period."

"First day," I add quickly. If only P.E. is not mandatory, then I wouldn't have asked my best friend into one of my lying schemes.

She pouts, disappointment clears in her face. "Yes. First day. Bad, bad, evil cramp and nausea."

"Thanks, Yuu. You're the best." I grip her hand tighter for a second before letting it go. She looks at me one last time before turning away to the changing room.

Finally alone in the big corridor among only the lockers, I let out a big sigh and pull out a smile. I turn my heel and stride down the long wooden corridor. The classes on my left and right are already full of students waiting for their teachers. Beyond those classes is the view of either the school gardens or the track field where my dad is possibly waiting for me. I try not to look beyond those classrooms so my dad's 'father instinct' doesn't get activated.

I continue my stride through the empty clubrooms and (allegedly) haunted storage rooms at the back of the school. Between these spooky and dark rooms is a door leading to the back garden, where tall ancient trees covered the blue sky with their giant leaves, leaving the ground underneath in a totally different level of gradient as the parts where the sunlight hits.

Few people know this place and it's for good reasons; firstly, it is already daring enough to go until the end of the corridor where the door is, moreover, to actually grab its knob and open it. There are rumors that the door leads to entirely different dimensions because the atmosphere is just totally different from the rest of the school—if it's hot like in Sahara on the track field, then it is cold and chilly in the back garden; and if it's snowing in the rest of the school, best belief it is warm as early June in here. Some even say that this anomaly happens because there are ghosts lurking in the shadows of the trees somewhere, just hanging around spreading eerie vibes and changing the temperature as they like.

But secondly—and this is the actual logical explanation—people rarely open the door because its key machinery is rusty, the hinges creak in creepy sounds, the nearest lamp isn't working, and I often put a locking spell on the door. I don't know how effective the spell is, but by the fact that I never encounter any other student—or human, as a matter of fact—whenever I skip a class here, I could say that it works pretty well.

And, yes, there are some ghosts lurking, but they are harmless. Mostly. They would just peer from the shadows with question marks on their heads when I chant some spells or cook some potions. Thus far I never encounter anyone ghost who dare to approach or even pull a prank on me. They know I can see them and possibly hurt them. I guess the supernaturals know other supernaturals when they see one. Ah, and also, as I told you before, the shades of the trees are just so dark. With the fresh wind from the mountain constantly flowing in the open air, it is a logical thing that the back garden to be a few degrees lower than the rest.

The only thing that sucks about this place is it has no bench or whatever to seat on. So, when I first found this place, I made it my personal mission to find comfortable bulging tree roots that were big and comfortable enough to seat on, or at least, if that's not possible, to be my desks for my books and cauldrons. I finally found it on one of the giant trees just a mere five-minute walking distance from the school's building into the forest (anyway, I never found the school's border—does it just stretches to infinity? Who owns this area?). It has bulging roots that swirl in such a way that could hold up some bottles, and even a hole in the trunk where I store my metal cauldron and books I bought secretly from a secondhand store.

As I walk through the forest, a few ghosts peer at me from behind the trees, above the branches, and below the ground. Their lifeless eyes follow my every step, but none dare to approach. They might have already thought of me coming here as a normal daily occurrence since I have been visiting this forest for the whole summer. The animal in this forest also no longer scatters in every direction whenever they sense my presence. They keep doing whatever they were doing as long as I don't make any sudden move or emit a dangerous aura. A deer even let me pet its head when one comes across me, and a small white python slept soundlessly inside one of my cauldrons.

I let the snake sleep for a little bit longer as I sit down on one of the tree roots and draw out my new book. The tree canopies indeed shade most of the forest, but the small gaps between the leaves still let the late summer sunlight to illuminate some parts of the ground. I turn the page one by one, solemnly admiring the delicate handwriting and religiously trying to understand the meaning behind it. I mumble some words that I find interesting to pronounce or the ones that I already know the meanings of. Minutes go by and I finally reach the middle of the book, where the page title informs me something about necromancy. I pause and freeze, my eyes widen looking at the page. This is what I've been looking for.

I say it aloud, "Necromantia: ars antiqua jurandi mortuos ad divinandi. Necromantia per omnem historiam tamquam taetririma et repugnantia magicorum rituum colebatur et colebatur. Necromantia cum daemonibus vel diabolo est confundenda."

I almost squeal in every sentence. Even though I could only understand not even half of it, the joy of finally being one step closer to my goal makes me float in the air. I hug the book close to my chest, thinking that I am finally able to give Tsumiki the best farewell gift that I've been planning since before summer. She would be delighted, I'm sure, when I was finally able to contact our mother again or even conjure her in our presence.

I was about to continue reading when a voice interrupted my line of thought. And no, it's not one of the ghosts. The voice is very real and alive, but weirdly enough, comes from above the trees and echoes throughout the forest. It says, "Necromancy, huh?" in a crisp and husky tone. My senses heightened and my spine tingled. That voice sounds eerily familiar but I'm too afraid to guess.

I look up, and find a Cheshire Cat smile on a wicked face of a pink-haired boy. I recognize him anywhere. That menacing aura is belonged to one person only: Sukuna. He doesn't need to do anything to make me instantly hate him, really. He sits on one of the branches and leans casually on the trunk, looking down on me like a god from the top of Olympus, and that's enough to make me want to strangle him to death.

He says again, "What is it? A grudge to pay or a treasure to seek? Power over mankind or popularity beyond belief? What is it that you desire so from the dead that makes you overjoyed to read that overpriced piece of trash in a language that no longer exists?"

I swallow hard my saliva, trying my best to look like I don't get affected by him in the slightest. "Latin is still existing, and this book is not trash."

I'm crossing my heart and hope that my determination helps me convince him to leave me alone before I'm losing my temper. But instead, he laughs—a condescending laugh. "Tell me, then, what does it say? Do you even know what you just read?"

His question throws me off for a second, making me doubt myself. But I'm able to regain my composure and confidently answer, "It's a spell to use during necromancy ritual."

He blasts into a burst of tyrannical laughter again. I grimace at his every heightened tone.

"Ding dong. Wrong!" he says between the laughs. Before I can react, he jumps down from the branch that might even be five meters above ground and lands successfully with those leather spiky boots that boom like thunder. My mind immediately runs through a memory of him stomping on someone's head. It was last year's sports festival, I believe, and he sent that poor guy to the hospital.

He continues, "That's just a lousy introduction to necromancy, directly quoted from an English source, and translated offhand using Google Translate. The necromancy spell is more complicated than that, sweetheart. And it requires you to be a dark magician, first and foremost, to make it work. Whoever gave you that book has conned you so well."

Now that we stand face-to-face with him just merely a few steps away from me, I could see clearer the face that shares an eerily resemblance to the sweet and innocent Yuuji, yet he is more akin to those hannya demon masks. His mere presence indeed wavers my resolute, but I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing me tremble on my feet.

I stand my ground as I defend myself, "And what do you know about necromancy? Why should I trust what you say? You might be just an edgy guy who read the Wikipedia entry for necromancy cause you think it's cool."

"I read more than Wikipedia, baby." He spreads his grin wider, looking at me like a wolf before prey. He takes slow steps towards me and I'm trying so hard not to turn on my heels and run for my life. "But why should I tell you what I read? You might wanna get your hands on those books too and use it to conjure some great ancestors of yours—or perhaps, the devil himself—unknowingly putting yourself in danger due to your own incapability. Better save it for me then, honeybee, if it means getting you away from the harm of your own ignorance."

His words might be as sleek as the devil, but I hear nothing other than patronizing remarks rooted in his inability to acknowledge me. And what's with that flirty way he calls me? We never even talk before this! It hurts my very being to be called pretty things by a man I barely even knew—or any, to be honest. And now, I might even hate him.

"Thanks for the concern, but I don't need it—I don't ask for it! I don't have time for your bullshit, nor do I have the willingness to succumb to your intimidation. So, please, leave me alone and go bully somebody else other than me!"

He freezes on his feet; ruby eyes widen as if he failed to believe what he just heard. "Bully?" he repeats. "Is that what you think I'm doing to you?"

"If not, then what's the explanation?"

His face softens, and his smile narrows; for a second, even his snicker sounds sincere. He says, "I'm just trying to make a conversation, from a witch to another witch. But I don't think that you want that; you made it very clear that you want nothing to do with me. So, I guess this is my cue. I bid you adieu, baby necromancer. May the road to hell doesn't reunite us again."

He makes a gesture as if he's pulling off an invisible hat and bringing that hat to his chest as he bows deep. And with that, along with a sudden gust of strong wind, he vanishes into thin air.

I am left dumbfounded for minutes; eyes wide awake but focus on nothing, my jaws drop but couldn't say anything. My mind goes blank like there's something stuck in the cogs of my brain. 'Does he really a witch?' I ask to myself, really questioning the legitimation of his claim. As much as I want to deny the possibility that there's another witch in the vicinity that I failed to notice—and on top of that, him! —I'm still sure as hell that the magic trick he pulled is no low-level magic. If that one is even legit, that is.

Something slithers on my feet, and it instantly pulls me back to reality. As I look down, I find the baby albino python that was previously sleeping in my cauldron, now slowly climbing my leg with its cold and scaley belly.

"What does that even mean? What had just happened, Orochi?" I one-sidedly give it a name, and a straightforward one, on top of that. Orochi means snake in Japanese. The reptile just sticks its tongue out in response. "Who is that guy?" No, I already know who he is. The question I should've been asking instead is, "What the fuck does he wants with me?"

Orochi just sticks out its tongue innocently, maybe trying to say that she—I decided that it is a she now—also has no clue. I pick her up from my feet and she slithers her way around my arm. I pet her head softly as if she were one of my cute and harmless plushies.

'Maybe there's some truth in his words,' says my rational self, urging me to use my investigation skill to eliminate all the possibility that he might be saying the truth.

But my anger-issue self is blatantly rejecting that idea. "Why the fuck should I even consider what he said? He might be just spouting nonsense to play mind games with me. Remember, Gumi, he's a notorious bully and a well-known manipulator!"

I decide to trust my own decision back then to specifically order this book from Nobara. But when I get back to the book and tried to concentrate, my anxiety couldn't help but to be drawn back to Sukuna and his wayward ways of saying that I'm a fool. I groan in anger. My competitive self gets the best of me as I'm now furiously typing the opening paragraph of the chapter, putting it in Google Translate from Latin to English, and using the results to further my investigation deep into the world wide web.

And— low and behold! —he was right! The paragraph is the exact same copy from an encyclopedia about witches and witchcraft, just translated from English to Latin. I am flabbergasted. I was about to throw a tantrum if only Orochi doesn't tighten her grip around my arm, threatening me to calm down or else she will break my feeble bones.

'But how could he even know until such detail?' I ask myself again after I regained my composure. But, seriously, did he memorize the entire internet archive about necromancy? No, right? The curiosity makes my head itchy, and I hate it the most when I have to scratch my scalp because then my dandruff will be all over the place.

I let out a big sigh. "Okay, whatever." I tidy my things, put Orochi back into the cauldron, and walk back into the school.

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To Be Continued

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CHARACTER INTRODUCTION

SUKUNA / ITADORI RYOU
played by /zelzelzelzel or (both on Instagram), pick your poison.
- Sukuna / Una / Ryou (only family)
- Dark warlock (secret identity)
- Yuuji's twin brother
- a walking red flag (that's what people said)
- personality: yandere
- element: N/A
- love: books, literature, Japanese culture, everything punk rock'n'roll, Fushiguro Megumi
- hate: obsessive people (read: fangirls)
- dream: King of Dark Magic

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Hi! It's Audrey Lea.

I deliberately not specify or describe the ghosts because it's not that kind of genre and I have another fic dedicated for that. So, you can imagine them however you want. Traditional Japanese ghosts (yokai)? Go ahead. Or like the ones in your local area? Sure. Whatever works for you.

So, what do you think of this chapter? Please be kind and share your thought in the review/comment box. You can also find some cover arts I made, the wardrobes of the characters, and their 'actors' on my Twitter and Tumblr : /ladyambrose2.

See you in the next chapter!