Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any errors.

"…" = conversations
･❪ ❫ ･ = flashbacks
・・・・・・・・・・・・ = time skips

Prologue
The Start of the growing Abyss

Screams echoed all around Isamu, his knees digging into the frozen earth. His hands trembled, and his breath hitched as the world around him blurred into chaos. Yubana—his closest friend—stood alone, too far ahead, too far out of reach, fighting for his life. The cursed energy of Akuma Ryojin, heavy and cold, twisted the air, a presence that pressed down on Isamu's chest like a weight he couldn't shake.
Move.

He willed himself to move, to run, to reach Yubana before the deadly storm of ice swallowed him whole. But his body wouldn't listen, frozen not by the cold, but by something deeper—fear, doubt, helplessness.
Why couldn't he move?

･❪ ❫ ･
The sharp taste of metal in his mouth from training too hard. The sweat dripping down his back. The sun was setting, and the shadows of the schoolyard stretched long and thin as the day's grueling exercises finally came to an end. "Hey," a voice called out, pulling Isamu from his exhausted haze. He turned to see Yubana, a wide, carefree grin on his face, despite the blood trickling down from a fresh cut on his cheek.
"Nice one out there, man," Yubana said, slapping Isamu on the shoulder. "You hit like a truck. I could barely keep up." Isamu, catching his breath, raised an eyebrow.
"You mean I almost knocked you out. You okay?" Yubana laughed, his voice ringing across the empty field. "Of course. Nothing a good meal won't fix. Come on, let's get some food. My treat."
That was the first time they'd really spoken—two rookies on their first day at Jujutsu High, both too proud to admit how scared they were, hiding their nervousness with smiles and bravado. That was the start of it all.

･❪ ❫ ･

Isamu blinked, the memory fading, replaced by the horrific reality in front of him. Yubana was there, now.
Still fighting. Still standing.
For how long?
"Yubana!" Isamu shouted, but the wind howled back, and the swirl of cursed energy pulled Yubana further from reach. He had to move—he had to do something.

･❪ ❫ ･
The air was thick with tension as the two of them stood in the dimly lit alleyway, back-to-back.
Their first mission together, a simple assignment that had quickly escalated into something far more dangerous. "Ready?" Yubana asked, his voice calm but with an unmistakable edge of excitement.
Isamu nodded; his grip tight on his weapon. The cursed spirit they were facing wasn't supposed to be this powerful. Something had gone wrong. This wasn't a job for two students fresh out of school.
But Yubana hadn't hesitated. When the spirit lunged at them, its grotesque form emerging from the shadows, Yubana was the first to strike. His cursed technique, a blinding surge of fiery energy, illuminated the alley. Isamu followed his lead, both of them moving in perfect sync, their training kicking in as they took the spirit down together.
Afterward, as they walked back to the school, Yubana looked over at Isamu and smirked. "Not bad, huh? Maybe they should put us on harder missions." Isamu scoffed. "Maybe you just like getting into trouble."
"Maybe." Yubana grinned. "But at least we've got each other's backs, right?" Isamu smiled at that.
He had never felt more sure of something in his life.
･❪ ❫ ･

The memory fractured as reality crashed back in. Yubana was alone now, fighting something far worse than a cursed spirit. Akuma Ryojin's aura loomed, suffocating and cold, as the icicles of death formed in the air above his best friend's head.
"Yubana, no!" Isamu screamed, trying to run, but his legs refused to move. Panic gripped his chest tighter with each second.

･❪ ❫ ･

It had been a surprise when Sayuri, a fresh-faced first-year student, had been assigned to join them. She had seemed so small and loud, always lingering in the background during their missions, her cursed energy still unrefined compared to the others. Isamu had been hesitant at first.
Yubana, though, had welcomed her with open arms, acting like the older and annoying brother she never had. He always had a way of making everyone feel at ease, even when he was teasing them to hell and back.
"Don't worry," Yubana had said to her one day during training, giving her a playful wink. "If you ever get in trouble, you've got me and Isamu here to back you up. Right, Isamu?" Isamu had simply nodded, feeling the weight of the responsibility.
Back then, it had seemed like a simple promise—an unspoken bond between teammates. But now, as Sayuri clutched his arm in the present moment, bleeding and smiling that serene smile, the weight of that promise crushed him.

･❪ ❫ ･

Isamu gasped, tearing his eyes from Yubana to look down at Sayuri. She was pulling him back, away from the battle. Her grip on his arm was weak, trembling, but her eyes were still clear despite the blood that trickled down her face.
"You can't save him."
The words left her lips softly, almost gently, as if she were comforting him. Rage exploded inside Isamu, and for a split second, he wanted to shove her away, wanted to scream that she didn't understand.
Yubana was his best friend. He couldn't just stand by.
His fist clenched, ready to lash out in desperation, but then Sayuri leaned in closer and whispered something that froze him in place.

･❪ ❫ ･
It was supposed to be a routine mission—just another cursed spirit causing trouble in the outskirts of the city.
The three of them had been assigned to investigate. But when they arrived, the air was different.
Heavy. Cold.
That's when they had felt it—the first ripple of cursed energy so dense, so suffocating that it had brought Sayuri to her knees instantly.
Even Yubana had faltered, his usual cocky grin replaced by something Isamu had never seen before: fear. And then they saw him—Akuma Ryojin—emerging from the depths of the icy mist.
His eyes had glinted with ancient malice, his power radiating in waves of deathly cold that chilled them to the bone.
They had barely escaped with their lives that day. But something had changed after that encounter. Yubana had grown quieter, more serious. Sayuri had thrown herself into training, becoming a more powerful sorcerer at a frightening pace. And Isamu... he had never forgotten the look in Yubana's eyes.
Fear. Doubt. Something deeper.
･❪ ❫ ･

As Sayuri's whispered words faded into the chaos, everything came flooding back—every moment they had shared, every promise, every battle they had fought together. It was all leading up to this moment.
This confrontation.

Wake up!
Isamu jolted awake, his body drenched in cold sweat, the sound of the alarm clock piercing the darkness of his dorm room. His heart hammered in his chest, and his mind raced to piece together what had just happened.
Yubana... Sayuri... They were gone. They were both gone.
But the weight of that night—the night they had faced Akuma Ryojin—still pressed on him like a curse.
The feeling that he had failed, that he had been too weak, too slow. He buried his face in his hands, trying to block out the memories, but they clung to him like shadows.
The dreams weren't just dreams.
They were memories.

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