Amá skipped work the next day, she said she didn't like the thought of leaving me home alone. That was the biggest crock of bullshit I'd ever heard from her, but she was stubborn when she wanted to be.
"Mija, what is this I found in the bin?" She stood in the doorway, one hand resting on her hip and the other holding the stack of assignments I had angrily thrown in the trash. I looked up from the messy sketch in my notebook. My current model, the return of the cyclops eel, flared its webbed collar and hissed at my mother, despite the fact she couldn't see the thing. Amá peeked at the sketch, her face twisting in disgust. "You should be studying, not making creepy drawings. The things your mind comes up with…"
"I told you, I'm not doing that crap." I muttered, brushing her off. Too bad for me, she was determined not to be pushed away this time. Strategically, I was going to ignore her little jab at my 'imagination'.
"Reyna, what's going on with you? Ever since-" Her pause, my eyes met hers, and she pulled my hand away from my sketchbook as she sat down. The eel darted off before she could squash it. "Ever since you got hurt, you've been angrier. I'm worried." That pleading tone. Fuck, her fear and worry were seeping through faster than I could numb myself. I tugged my hand, but she held it firmly, her palm against mine, thumb running gently over my scarred knuckles.
"Why do you care now?" Amá flinched at my harsh question. The wave of guilt that rolled off of her was like a physical blow. I don't know what it was, but she was different.
"I always cared, mí corazón. It's just… I realized I've relied on you too much. You're just a kid-"
"No, I'm not." I could feel the fury bubbling under the surface, threatening to break free, but I swallowed it down, trying to keep myself numb. It was easier that way—safer.
"You are. Smart and strong, but still a kid. You shouldn't have had to be this tough. I shouldn't have left you to feel so alone." Her voice quivered. I could feel her sorrow tightening around me like a coiled snake. "When I got the call about the hospital..."
"H-hey, I'm- I'm fine now." Mattress below me, window to my right. Bookshelf, closet, mirror… I needed to focus on something else. My hand squeezed hers without meaning too, and I felt like I couldn't breathe.
"No, look at you… You're not fine. You're hurt. I let you get hurt." Her other hand shook as she traced my cast, the look of pain on her face torture for me. My lame arm jerked away from her touch. "I failed you, Mija, and I didn't see that until it was almost too late."
[My forehead pressed against my knees, my chest tightening as I heard my mother cry his name. The tremble in my shoulders grew as heat stung behind my eyes. I didn't want to be like Mami, if we were both crying…then nothing would get done. Mami shouldn't cry for him… I wasn't going to.
Soft hair slipped between my fingers as I pulled on my curls, the sting of my scalp meant to distract me. No crying, no crying.]
"You let me fend for myself. For years." I had to look away from her to talk. My throat felt raw, my voice sounded like a wounded animal. Why was she doing this to me? Tears blurred my vision, my breath hitching with the weight of her sorrow mixing into my own guilt. I couldn't tell whose pain was stronger—hers or mine.
"I know, I know. I thought, 'She's a smart kid, she'll bounce back.' And I let myself believe you weren't bothered, but then you got angrier, you pulled away. Then I told myself, 'It's a phase, she'll snap out of it', but I was wrong, Mija. Please… I'm sorry for not being there. For not taking care of you like you needed. I want to do better, will you let me?" Her arms looped around my neck. Amá was warm, so warm. The room was shaking, wait, that was me. A ragged sob broke out of my chest. She held me tighter. I couldn't remember the last time we hugged. Her hair smelled like home.
I wept, clinging to her like a lifeline, even though I knew better. She whispered apologies into my hair, holding me together even as I felt like I was falling apart.
At some point, I must have cried myself to exhaustion, because I woke up with my head in her lap. Her manicured nails parted my hair as she ran her fingers through it, her voice humming a lullaby I barely remembered. We were still in my room, the assignments on my nightstand and my sketchbook on the floor. My body felt heavy in a way I never experienced, I tried to ignore the dull ache in my injured shoulder. The throbbing in my head was bothersome but not overwhelming. I couldn't tell if it was from crying myself to unconsciousness.
"Amá, this is embarrassing…" I murmured once I realized she was treating me like a baby.
"Well, you're just gonna have to tough it out, huh?" Her laugh was tired, and I looked up at her face. How anyone could compare us was a mystery. There was so much of her, I could never hope to have, not just her soft face and her round eyes, that made her look like she never carried a burden in her life. Life ripped her apart, and still she let it happen with a smile. That's why it was so hard to look at her.
Part of me wanted this forever, the love rolled off her and into me. Loosening wires that had been pulled taut for years. I feared I would come apart.
I didn't need to fight, I think. There was no need to lose it all when I could just be here…with her, for her. Amá needed someone to watch her back, maybe I could do that for her. I probably should have been doing that from the start. Maybe this is what fate had in store for me…fate, I hadn't had a reason to believe in so long.
["You can learn to protect yourself, choose your own fate, or remain at the mercy of the next curse that finds you and your family."]
The card Gojo gave me came to mind. Things shifted since the arcade...but not in the world shattering way that I had envisioned. It felt like my mind was splitting open to let in the world around me. I didn't need him. I didn't need his version of power. It was gonna be me and my mom against the world. The chasm between us needed to be closed, we're gonna be happy, to spite every tragedy the world tried to spit at us.
We spent the night in each other's company, re-introducing ourselves once more. I caught my mother's sorrow, as she discovered how much I had grown without her influence. She wasn't a fan of my music tastes, Amá was surprised to find I despised anime and manga. Sat in the living room together, I tried to answer her barrage of questions without working myself up in frustration.
"What do you mean? I thought kids your age loved that stuff, when I was little I watched Saint Seiya, and a bunch of others, you know your dad loves Dragon Ball?" She laughed, and then got quiet, my hand tentatively reached for hers. Our fingers threaded together, and she gave my hand a squeeze.
"It's alright ma, I got you, you got me." My voice was thick, as though the words were heavy and hard to get out.
"That's right. Let's talk about something else, like that boy from school. So cute! Is he your boyfriend?" Amá teased, irritation flared, and I glared at her. She grimaced at my harsh reaction, the expression I wore so often mirrored back at me, shocking me into a state of calm.
"I- uh… He's not my boyfriend, he's just a classmate. I don't even remember him much, all my classmates kinda fade into the background when I'm there." I looked down at our hands, still held together, and removed myself from her grip. Shame gripped me, she hadn't meant any harm. Having her brush up against my life, parts of my heart I had let atrophy, felt dangerous. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out an apology. Trying desperately to hold on to the delicate threads of connection before I ruined it all. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be an asshole, I just…argh." The words were sour in my mouth as my mother made a noise that sounded distinctly like an aborted laugh.
"It isn't on you to fix this, mama. You can't scare me away. I'm your mom." My hand shifted to my lap and I attempted to relax. A yawn threatened to dislocate my jaw, and I could feel the weight of my eyelids increasing.
"I can scare anything away, I'm terrifying." I insisted, testing out a joke. Her expression softened, and she pushed my curls from my face.
"Okay, bruja, so scary. Go spook the shadows in your room and get some sleep. I'm gonna take the day off tomorrow too, and we can talk more tomorrow." She nudged me to my room, and I obeyed. The feeling of this kind of tenderness was foreign, but seemed to soothe a part of me that always felt like a bleeding wound.
When I was in bed, the smell of my mother's perfume lingering on my clothes, the warmth of her sinking into my bones. Part of me wanted this feeling to last forever. This was mine, my bubble with me and my mother, fragile, easily destroyed. It felt as if I had been waiting for this moment, to have my hands pass through the glass wall the stood between us and feel her again. I thought of Gojo, and the black hole he seemingly dangled me over. The world that Gojo threatened to drop me into, the gallows, for once I wasn't eager to approach the reaper. The apex of pain and despair laid within his outstretched hand, I had known that since the beginning.
The decision was made, once Amá was asleep, I'd call Gojo and tell him to fuck off. I didn't need him, we didn't need him. All that bullshit about being the strongest, it didn't do anything for me. If fate was truly in my hands, then I would not become its plaything. I would squeeze the vile snake fate was until its eyes bulged, before it had the opportunity to wrap itself around my neck.
The images of killing fate, soothed me, paired with the comfort of my mother, I fell asleep. It didn't last long, it never did. I jolted awake, the room dark, the moon high in the window to give everything a pale glow. My hand scrambled for my phone, and then the card. There was a sense of dread, I couldn't pinpoint its source. Did hearing his voice really evoke such visceral fear in me? Each number felt like something was looming over me. A man as strong as Gojo, with the ability to claim 'The Strongest', was he really a man to take no for an answer. The deal he posed… he talked about it as if he was doing me a favor. Why me?
Those questions burned in me, thumb hovering over the phone shaped icon, as I decided that they would need to remain unanswered for me to live in peace. The sound toned as the first ring went through, it was the middle of the night. No way he'd answer, but leaving a message wasn't a bad option.
A sudden wave of nausea overtook me as the dread blanketed the world around me. I leaned over the edge of the bed and gagged as inky sludge poured from my mouth. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. I had only ever felt a sensation like this when… The arcade, my mother. Every hair stood on end, a bone deep sense of danger wound its way inside me. There was no time to waste. The phone rang, ignored in my hand as I tried to move. If the call didn't connect, everything would be alright. None of that made sense, the two ideas not connected in any way. Yet, I needed it to be true.
The world was muted, save for the sound of the phone ringing as shakily made my way from my room to my mother's. Trembling, my shoulder cast dug into the wall as I tried desperately to remain upright. My mother's closed door was the last barrier separating us, I needed to make sure she was alright. She probably was sleeping soundly, undisturbed by the atmosphere as a monster, a curse, was realized.
The door opened, and I stared.
Sat at the bottom, propped against the wall opposite of the door was… no, no, this was wrong, this was a nightmare.
The corpse was opened, as if something ripped into her, no it, because that thing, sat in a puddle of dark blood, was not my mother. I could see into it torso, ribs split open like a venus fly trap. The chest cavity was empty, the contents spread across its lap. Her eyes were warm, yet empty voids looked at nothing. Ama's skin glowed, it was so pale, every last drop of red covering the ground even as I knew it should have been inside. This couldn't be real.
riiing, riiing, riiing*
My footsteps echoed in the room as my body stepped forward. The atmosphere brought me to the ground, knees crashing tagainst the hardwood, the phone clattering to the floor, as I tried balanced myself on my arm. The trembling of my limbs worsened. My body convulsed as bile rose in my throat, black sludge pouring out. The ground was slick with her blood, and I couldn't stop the frantic, mindless words spilling from my lips. No, no, no, no, no, no…
riiing, riiing, riiing*
"Mami…"
My head lifted to look over at my mother's bed. It wasn't empty. Bloodied claws shined in the pale moonlight as the curse grinned at me, its eyes closed, and its arms crossed over its chest. It had a second set of malformed arms at its waist, as it was shaped vaguely like a human.
The world around me narrowed, until it was just the curse and I in the darkness together.
"Mami, mami, where are you?" It whimpered pathetically, and I flinched at the sound of my own terror.
"Moshi moshi!" crackled the chipper voice of Gojo, my eyes darted to the discarded phone. Had he really answered. "I didn't answer your call because I'm busy, or I just didn't want to. Leave a message, Gojo out!" The voicemail tone that followed might as well have been a death toll. My world expanded once again. Lungs filling with air, goosebumps crawling across my skin. I had to pull myself together and kill this fucking thing.
"Gojo, I'm in. I have nothing left to lose." I stood up, every single emotion twisting in my gut, burning through my veins. My fist closed as I wound it back, ready to swing and destroy this thing. If Gojo got my message, I wouldn't know. This wasn't the time to wait on rescue.
"Tut, tut, were you about to break my toy?" A voice called from the shadows, the darkness distorted to reveal a masked man. By the glow of his amber eyes, I knew who it was. "Parents should raise their kids better, being so mean to a classmate." he sighed, the word 'classmate' dripping with sarcasm, shaking his head as if disappointed. With a snap of his fingers, markings scrawled over the flesh of the curse.
"You… you did this?" The question was pointless, it was obvious he was the one in control of the curse. So many more questions died on my tongue. I understood less and less as time went on.
"This is a job, called in by Daddy Dearest." I kept my fist raised as he closed the distance, slowly. The curse had not shifted, not since the markings appeared. "He's been keeping an eye on his girls. He just didn't like what he saw, his poor princess, nearly a drop out, and the wife that let her run wild."
Daddy Dearest, as in my father? Santo. The man I hadn't thought about in years. The man who left us. He was behind this? My mind couldn't catch up to the words. Every breath felt like a knife in my chest. My fists shook, knuckles white with the pressure. Rage filled the gaps shock left behind, simmering in every breath, but I was frozen.
He was lying to me, just like he did when he showed up at my door, disguised as a schoolmate. The dead eyes of the curse, that tore my mother apart, looked ahead into nothingness. Disgust slithered in every vein, those creatures should never have existed. "Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" I screeched, the power within me wavering as torrents of emotions roiled within me. "He- he wouldn't-, no, why?" My arm shook, fist falling to my side. The sight of her blood poisoned my veins. I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. All I knew was that he had to die, even if my body refused to obey.
"Who, what, when, where and why?" Matsushita nearly cooed as he cupped my face, his eyes alight with mirth, despite the fact I sensed nothing from his presence. Despite standing before me, touching me, I realized he might as well have been a ghost. There wasn't even scent from him. "Save your questions for the reunion, let's get going now." He lined up two fingers between my eyes, and for a second I wished to throw up on him. The flesh on my forehead burned, markings being seared into my flesh with his touch. My lips parted in a silent scream, ever muscle in my body convulsed. The sensation, I could only compare it to being electrocuted.
It was all too much and darkness took me. My body hit the floor, pain rippling through every muscle, and suddenly, I was back at the well, the gravel biting into my skin like it had all those years ago. I could almost hear the mocking voice, taunting me like it had when I was a kid…
I didn't want to go to school, Ama watched me leave the apartment in my uniform. I was developing faster than the other girls. The boys were the first to notice, rumors started that I was pregnant. Everyone said it was because of how much weight I put on so quickly, others reasoned as a foreigner it was expected for me to be promiscuous. It was all lies, not like anyone cared about the truth. Hate, that was a word my mom said was very serious, and I was more certain than ever… I hated them.
My feet kicked idly as I sat at the edge of the supposed 'haunted' well. The curse had been gone for a while now, and the challenge had lost its luster now that creepy things didn't happen as often. This was my haven, to escape everything that chased me.
"Hmmm, I knew it smelled like monkey around here." sneered a deep voice, I yelped and nearly fell backward into the now empty well. My hands gripped the wooden rim to keep myself from falling, my yogurt drink abandoned in favor of my safety.
"What the heck are you doing, popping up like that, Monkey Man?" I shouted as I hopped off the well, looking around frantically for that familiar voice. Something in me had almost been waiting for this moment, I had come around often after our first meeting. There was the soft sound of steps behind me, and then a firm push between my shoulders. The wind was pushed from my lungs as I was sent to the ground roughly. A ragged breath to draw in air again had me coughing and sputtering as the dust that was kicked up was breathed in. My chest was sore, the muscled protesting as I pushed up on my arms to lift me. I looked over my shoulder to see the same crazy man as before, standing on the rim of the well.
My hand closed around some gravel, the sharp rocks digging into my palm before throwing it at him, only for him to seemingly disappear before my eyes.
"Rather bold, aren't you? Monkey Man, what an ill-fitting moniker, but you aren't worthy of my name." The voice now came from in front of me, and my head snapped now to see Monkey Man towering over my form. The sharp smell of disinfectant burned my nose, and I scrambled away until my back met the firm wood of the well. "I'm in a rather good mood today, so I won't waste my time trying to discipline you. Strays are hardly worth it." He smiled, but it had the same effect of having pulled out a blade.
"I'm not a stray." He scoffed at my insistence. Something about him reminded me of a snake. The narrow eyes, the sharp set of his face. Even the flare of his dark hair, the cobra's hood. The memory of the creature depicted in my school books was superimposed over him. "Why are you even here? No one comes here."
He ignored the question, his smile more like a mask than an actual expression of emotion. Disgust was layered between intrigue and this almost burning sense of purpose. Slowly, I picked myself up from the ground. Why now? It was embarrassing to admit, but I had hoped to see him again. He never showed then. I didn't even know why I bothered, he was some creepy stranger. There was this pull from him, the same kind I felt from the monsters. Though, they seemed to be pulled toward me, rather than the other way around.
The monster at the bottom of the well was gone, the crying girl. It had disappeared when he showed up last. Not that he knew about them… there was no doubt in my mind that I was alone in all this. Forced to see and feel those monsters everywhere. Monkey man had keen eyes scanning the area, as if looking for something.
"Lost something? Other than your mind, obviously." I taunted, standing as tall as I could despite being a kid. This is what I wish I could do against those kids at school, say what I wanted when I wanted.
"No, it seems that what I was looking for has not shown itself. Probably the stench coming off of you that drove it away." He mocked, an almost childish delight coming off of him, as I bristled. Dark eyes, sharp eyes, stared down at me. Curiosity, I could feel it.
"Maybe whatever you're looking for is scared off by what a creep you are…" Not even a second after the words left my mouth, I tumbled back into the dirt. Monkey man smirked, his leg pulling back after having swiped my feet out from under me. I was already sore, no doubt I would bruise, and I could feel almost every cut the gravel had made. My uniform was ruined, not doubt.
"Your senses are duller than your mind." This was funny to him, that jerk! My body moved before I could actually decide whether it was smart to try and fight a grown up, especially a crazy one. I launched myself at him only to make contact with nothing as he leapt away like it was nothing. "And you're slower than you look. Pitiful really, but expected." Red clouded my vision.
My legs pushed against the gravel beneath me, the sky was blue, and the sun shown like a picture in a magazine. None of that mattered. Every ounce of hurt, anger and hatred that filled my body demanded to be let out. Despite the fact, I was obviously outclassed.
It went like that for a while, me chasing after him as he dodged me at every turn. He would drop a mocking comment whenever I started to lag, and the cycle would repeat. It ended much like it began, me on the grown as Monkey Man towered over me. His gloating smile drew a glare, but I hardly had the energy to say anything. I think he knew that, so I flipped him the bird while I was at it.
"It seems I was not looking hard enough to find what it is that drew me here." He mused, his hand thoughtfully stroking his chin.
"You're a-" I sucked in more air. "Jerk." He laughed, not a mocking one, an amused one. It was no surprise. I had felt him having fun with him jumping away and kicking me down.
"Say what you will, your opinion means nothing to me. If you ever hope to survive this world, be sure you're faster than today, or you'll be under the dirt instead of laying in it." His back melted into the forest and he disappeared again. Unlike last time, I didn't follow. There was no point. His words chilled me to my bones. Be faster, be stronger, or end up in the dirt. I wasn't going to let everyone kick me around like this anymore. Or ever again.
There was screaming, high-pitched shrieks that were grating to the ear. My mind urged me to demand whoever was crying bloody-murder to shut the hell up. Still the pained sounds continued and no words escaped me. Sensations began to trickle in, the firm bed beneath me, hands holding me down and then followed the ache of my muscles. The sensation of fatigue, of pain exploded and a scream tore through my throat, it had been me the whole time. Light exploded across my eyes, and the room around me came into focus. Wood panels, bare walls and a single door, woman with tired eyes looked down at me.
I gasped, chest heaving as the screaming finally stopped. The inside of my mouth was sand paper, the lingering taste of bile coating my mouth. Cracked lips attempted to form words my throat could not project outward. My mother, where was my…
Oh.
Immediately I abandoned any communication. It didn't fucking matter what state my body was in or where the fuck I was. It was bad enough I was alive while-
No, fuck that, it took little effort to shove the thought down. Perhaps less effort it had ever taken. Beyond the pain, and exhaustion, I felt nothing. That was good, there was nothing worth feeling anyway.
"So you're actually awake. Good." The woman's voice rather blase, given the fact I was apparently fighting like I was possessed while she held me down. "Normally, I hardly break a sweat, but you really fought me." she signed, pressed her fingers into her temples. My eyes settled on the wooden ceiling above me, modern lights were set flush into the aged wood and I simply stared at the grain of the wood.
Silence stretched between us and slowly moisture returned to my mouth. I gave a rough swallow, Matsushita's actions returned to the forefront of my mind. My father, he was the reason my mother was dead. He sent that bastard Matsuhsita and his toy curse to do it, coward couldn't even show his face to tear apart the family had abandoned. "Whe-where is Santo?" I rasped, speaking my father's name aloud for th efirst time. It felt like I was invoking a stranger.
The woman was silent for a beat, for a brief moment I thought she was gone until I turned to look for her and met her gaze. The bags set under her eyes were deeper than my own, and much darker in comparison to her fair skin. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm Shoko, and you're at
Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School. Gojo Satoru brought you here and dumped you in my lap…" Her eyebrow twitched, saying Gojo's name between gritted teeth.
"Ah, I guess he got my message then…" I muttered, the dull memory of my message to Gojo resurfacing. ["Gojo, I'm in. I have nothing left to lose."] Nothing left to lose, nothing at all. Except making sure Matsushita and my father paid for what they did… "There was a man, Matsushita." Shoko sighed, her fingers twitching as if she wanted to reach for something. The sight of a box int he breast pocket gave it away, a smoker.
"I didn't get much information from him, he just brought you to me, told me about the seal and then left. I spent the night working with the rush job gojo did to you. That thing is nasty work…" She bent at the waist to peer a my face. Weakly I reached up to feel my forehead where Matushita burned me, a seal? Jujutsu High? Confusion sparked and died, swallowed up by the emptiness within me.
"Must have been Matsuhsita then. If Gojo didn't kill him, I call dibs." That seemed to make the doctor lady laugh, though the sound could have easily been a scoff.
