Toji Fushiguro, a man shrouded in an aura of infamy, was known throughout the Jujutsu world as the Sorcerer Killer. A paradox of existence, he wielded no cursed energy yet had carved a crimson path through the slaughtering of Jujutsu sorcerers, leaving behind a trail of fear and whispers.
Yuki's mind, a labyrinth of intricate thoughts, couldn't help but be captivated by the enigma that was Toji Fushiguro. He was the embodiment of her ideals, a living testament to the possibility of a world devoid of curses. Yet, a question lingered in the depths of her consciousness, a stark contrast to Toji's ruthless reputation: why would a man known for slaying sorcerers target an innocent child?
She shook off the thought, reminding herself of Toji's true nature—that of a merciless assassin. But this realization only birthed another enigma: Who had orchestrated this deadly pursuit?
Lost in the labyrinth of her thoughts, Yuki failed to notice the concerned gaze of everyone around her "Yuki?" Shiro's voice, laced with worry, pulled her back to reality.
Yuki blinked, her mind snapping back to the present. She glanced at Hanako and the others, their expressions filled with genuine concern. "Oh, sorry," she replied, a sheepish smile gracing her lips as she took a sip of her drink. "I got lost in thought," she said
Mei and Iori exchanged puzzled glances, the name "Toji Fushiguro" an unfamiliar echo in their ears.
"Do you have any idea why he was after you?" Yaga inquired, curiosity lacing his tone.
Yuki's mind churned with a darker question. Why was Hanako still alive if Toji Fushiguro was indeed her pursuer?
Hanako met their queries with a helpless shrug, her memory a hazy canvas. "I don't really remember much," she confessed, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "All I recall is him approaching me at the orphanage and then waking up to find most of the back side destroyed.
"And nobody nearby noticed?" Utahime asked, her voice laced with disbelief, and her eyebrows furrowed deeply as she paid close attention to the conversation.
Hanako, her brow creased in contemplation, responded with a slow shake of her head. "No, apparently no one saw anything. It was as if what happened appeared out of nowhere."
Utahime's disbelief grew, her mind racing to find a logical explanation. "But how is that possible? There must have been some clue or witness," she exclaimed, confusion evident in her voice.
"That means someone had put up a curtain that blocked out others from seeing the attack happen," Yaga said, his voice taking on a pensive tone as he rested his chin on his knuckles, deep in thought.
"Then Fushiguro didn't work alone." Tsukumo interjected, her voice sharp and alert, her eyes darting between Yaga and Hanako.
Yuki and Masamichi exchanged a knowing glance, realizing that they were dealing with a more complex situation than they initially thought. The possibility of a well-orchestrated plan started to unravel before them, leaving them with more questions and hopefully finding the answers too.
"There's no way he could have put up a curtain himself," she affirmed, her voice carrying a weight of certainty.
"Yeah, it's very possible," Yaga responded, his voice heavy with the implications of this information.
"Curtain?" Hanako asked silently, her mind reeling from the unfamiliar terminology. All these terms, like 'curtain' and 'Jujutsu Sorcerers', were just not making sense to her. It all sounded like something out of a dark fantasy manga. The conversation around her seemed to fade into a distant hum as she grappled with the surreal nature of her situation.
A thoughtful silence fell over the group, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air like a dense fog. Mei, her eyes twinkling with curiosity, broke the silence, her voice a gentle ripple in the stillness. "Isn't it possible that Hanako's cursed spirit, Akki, could have erected the curtain herself?" she suggested, her tone laced with intrigue.
Iori, her brow furrowed in contemplation, countered Mei's proposition. "But wouldn't that make Akki a special-grade curse?" She inquired, her voice laced with a hint of skepticism.
Yuki, her expression enigmatic, sat back in her seat, her movements exuding an air of authority. "That idea is very possible, but for now, both ideas are plausible," she declared, her voice resonating with wisdom. "We'll find out more as we observe Hanako," she added, her gaze sweeping over the group.
"Oh, speaking of Akki," Tsukumo interjected, her voice laced with a hint of intrigue. "I've been meaning to ask; are you able to see her?"
A wave of curiosity rippled through the table as all eyes swiveled towards Hanako, anticipation hanging heavy in the air.
Hanako's brow furrowed in surprise, her gaze flitting between the expectant faces. "So, you guys can't see her?" She asked, her voice laced with disbelief.
"What do you mean?" Yaga leaned forward, his gruff voice demanding an explanation.
"Well," Hanako began, her voice softening. "I know some people can see her and others can't. I guess it depends on who she chooses to reveal herself to."
A collective murmur of intrigue swept through the four of them as they digested the information.
"To me, Akki looks like a person," Hanako continued, her voice painting a picture in the air.
"A person like you and me?" Tsukumo pressed, her curiosity piqued.
Hanako nodded, her eyes distant, as she conjured Akki's image in her mind. "Yes, but her skin is pale, like moonlight, and her eyes are a deep, rich red, like the finest wine. She has long, dark hair that cascades down her back like a waterfall, and she's usually wearing a kimono similar to Utahime's," she explained, glancing towards Utahime for reference.
A subtle tension filled the room as Mei, her arms tightly folded across her chest and one leg elegantly crossed over the other, challenged Akki's statement. "That's not what I heard from the medical team that treated you when we brought you back," she countered.
Iori, her interest piqued, leaned forward, her eyes darting between Mei and Akki. "What did the medical team say?" she inquired, her voice a blend of intrigue and apprehension. Hanako, too, found herself drawn into the unfolding exchange, her mind buzzing with questions.
She had always known that Akki's appearance could be unsettling to others. Whispers and rumors had painted a picture of a spectral figure, a haunting apparition that sent shivers down the spines of those unfortunate enough to catch a glimpse. Hanako, however, had never witnessed this side of Akki. To her, Akki was quite pretty for a curse. but then again, she could just easily be tricking her too.
"Her form, a mere silhouette with two crimson-colored eyes glowing with an eerie intensity, pierced through the darkness, emanating an otherworldly aura. Her face, obscured by a veil of darkness, bore the semblance of a distorted gas mask, its warped features adding to her macabre charm. Her skin, a translucent red, shimmered with an ethereal glow, as though lit from within by an infernal flame. Cascading down her shoulders, a mane of dark, untamed hair flowed like a raven's plumage, adding to her spectral allure."
"That doesn't really sound that scary," Utahime said, mused, tilting her head slightly, her brow furrowed in a gesture of contemplation.
Mei's eyebrow arched mischievously, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "Oh, really?" she countered, her tone dripping with playful disbelief. "You, the great Utahime Iori, the one who screams at the sight of a rat, would be the first one out of the room if you saw something like that."
Utahime's cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, a hint of embarrassment creeping into her expression. "Well," she stammered, trying to regain her composure. "I'm not afraid of ghosts. It's just... rats are different."
Mei's laughter echoed through the room, a symphony of amusement that danced around Utahime's flustered state.
"Of course, of course," Mei chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mirth. " Rats are a whole different level of terror, aren't they?"
Utahime rolled her eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. "Oh, hush, you," she retorted, playfully swatting at Mei's arm. "You know I'm not that bad."
Mei's laughter continued to fill the room; her amusement was contagious. "Alright, alright," she conceded, still grinning. "Maybe I exaggerated a bit. But you have to admit, your reaction to those little things is priceless."
Utahime sighed, her smile widening. "Fine, fine," she admitted with a mock pout. "I may have a slight aversion to rodents and creepy crawlies, but that doesn't mean I'm completely hopeless."
"It's not just about being scary," Mei replied, her voice continuing with amusement. "It's about the mystery and intrigue that come with the unknown. The allure of darkness can be quite captivating, don't you think?" Besides, who knows if what they saw was even real? she finished.
With a decisive nod, Yuki announced, "For now, I think it's time we head off to Tokyo." Her words echoed with a sense of urgency: "If we leave now, we should get there around five or six," she informed, her tone brisk and efficient. She rose from her
The group concluded their meals, settled their bill, and departed the restaurant, their footsteps echoing in the quietude of the fading day.
They navigated the bustling streets, their destination being the nearest station, where they would embark on their way from Kyoto's tranquil embrace to Tokyo's electrifying pulse.
Once aboard the train, Hanako claimed a window seat, her eyes eagerly devouring the passing scenery. It was her first time ever going beyond Kyoto's familiar borders, and anticipation danced in her heart like a symphony of butterflies. She settled beside Yuki in a shared silence, a comforting melody amidst the train's rhythmic rumble.
Hanako's gaze, wide-eyed and wonderstruck, remained glued to the window, drinking in the kaleidoscope of landscapes that whizzed past. Kyoto's ancient elegance gave way to Tokyo's modern sprawl, a mesmerizing dance of old and new, tradition and innovation.
Each passing vista was a brushstroke on the canvas of Hanako's unfolding new life, a testament to the world's boundless beauty as well as the thrill and fear of the unknown.