Note:
Yes I know, this is my fourth update this month, and my 3rd in a row this week xDD what can I say, I just couldn't wait to finish the arc, because yes, it's the end of arc 1, finally!
I confess I couldn't take it anymore, it was a very long "pre-jujutusu" arc but it was necessary ;). I hope you like the way the events unfold!
The next chapter is being written, and it's the start of arc 2, and Mariya will finally become an exorcist and we're back to where we started in chapter 1!
Don't hesitate to send me feedback on the flow of events, or on the writing! 3
Enjoy ~
[Arc 1: Curses]
Chapter 8
Third time's the charm
Three weeks later
HER RELATIONSHIP WITH HER GRANDFATHER HAD FRACTURED in the aftermath of everything that had transpired.
But before delving into that, let's revisit the chain of events that led them here.
The harrowing incident that had nearly claimed their lives—and had irreparably claimed a large portion of their home—was, thankfully, covered by their insurance. They'd attributed the damage to a gas leak when filing the claim, and miraculously, the inspectors corroborated their story without question. (Both she and her grandfather had injuries, but they were more bruises than anything else. To this day, Mariya couldn't understand how they hadn't broken anything.)
Amid all this chaos, Mariya came to two critical realizations: first, there weredefinitelyeffective ways to deal with these "things" Second—and perhaps more relieving—she wasn't alone in seeing them. (Hallelujah! She wasn't some predestined savior bearing the weight of the world on her shoulders.)
Beyond that, though? She was left in the dark, still grasping for answers.
Her grandmother, though physically unharmed, had yet to fully recover from the ordeal. Leaving the house was a challenge she couldn't yet overcome. Still, she was far better now than she had been three weeks ago, and for that, Mariya was profoundly thankful.
Her grandfather, on the other hand, had finally come to terms with the strange truth behind Mariya's peculiar behavior as the entire family could now see the hollows.
"So this is what you've been seeing all this time?" he had asked her one day, his voice heavy with a mixture of understanding and guilt.
Yes. Yes, this is what I've been seeing all along.
And so, Mariya explained it all to him, like she'd done with Adelie.
After that, her grandfather shared what little he knew.
Apparently, Satoru had spoken to him, explaining that the hollow's appearance inside their home was an unusual case—triggered bysomethingspecific.
Whatever that "something" was had vanished with the creature's destruction.
Mariya had understood immediately, as if an instinct had struck her like a pebble to the back of her head: it was the bracelet. It was unmistakably the bracelet. From what her grandfather had told her, the bracelet had turned pitch black, and after that—things had unfolded as they had.
This opened up an entirely new set of questions about Monk Kukai.
With trembling hands, Mariya had flung her necklace into the deepest dumpster she could find the moment she realized.
(The bracelet had helped the first time.
Only to make everything even more catastrophic the second.
How?)
Mariya felt shame wash over her. Tears stung her eyes, but she forced them back with sheer willpower. And yet, a small voice inside her whispered that it was entirely her fault. But how could she have known?!
In the end, all she could do was try not to think about it.
When she had the chance, she reached out to Adelie to share the situation.
This time, however, she chose to lie, sticking strictly to the official story—the fabricated gas leak. She knew she'd confided in her, properly, but...no. This time, she wanted to avoid sharing with her what a real madness her life had become.
Her parents received the same version of events.
They had been eager to go to Japan immediately, but logistical constraints made that impossible. Her father's work obligations had locked their itinerary, and their arrival remained weeks and weeks away. Mariya worked hard to reassure them, calling via Skype to show that she—and her grandparents—were unharmed.
In the meantime, while their house underwent repairs, the family temporarily relocated.
Their new refuge was the dojo her grandmother had often spoken of—the one her father was meant to inherit. Until now, her grandfather had left its management in the capable hands of one of his "disciples," a thirty-something kendo instructor named Watanabe Tetsuya.
Watanabe-san had been nothing short of gracious. He had even assisted with their move.
Despite the extensive damage to their home, Mariya was relieved to find her room had been largely spared. The fire had only reached her door, leaving her belongings untouched by some unexplainable stroke of luck.
She had never felt such joy at seeing her manga, clothes, and makeup intact.
At first, she felt ashamed of her seemingly shallow relief. But clinging to these trivial comforts had helped her stay grounded. It was a way to soften the blow, to distract herself from a reality spiraling far beyond her control—or anyone else's.
(Most importantly, it kept her from dwelling too long on the guilt that churned within her.
Because Mariyahadknown something was wrong.
She'd felt it.
And she hadn't listened.)
For those three weeks, the family had contacted their insurance company, spoken to the appropriate authorities to ensure the incident was deemed accidental and attributed to a "gas leak," salvaged what little they could, and finally moved.
The dojo, their temporary sanctuary, stood just a few subway stops from the ruins of their home.
The neighbors had been kind to them, and had come to help. The Hojos were well-liked in the neighborhood, and Mariya had already spoken to the neighbors a few times, and had once babysat the little girl of the young married couple who had come to see their in-laws. She had even cooked once with Miss Kiyoshi (the mother of the child, Sakura) when she came to visit them.
Mariya had tried to lighten the mood by making little jokes (which she translated into Japanese, before realizing that they meant nothing in Japanese and weren't nearly as funny. Her repertoire of jokes was dwindling fast, and she was determined to find some in Japanese. She couldn't become a boring person who didn't know any jokes).
Packing, cleaning, and leaving the house behind proved strangely cathartic. Walking away from the site of such terror and trauma felt like erecting a barrier between herself and the shadowy memories of that night.
Above the dojo was a modest apartment—the very one where her father had lived as a teenager.
Mariya had taken his room and seen the number of awards he had received as a kendoka, understanding the full extent of his talent.
(And she understood that he had adopted her grandmother's surname (Hibino) to distance himself from any association with the renowned kendoka prodigy he was.)
Mariya had categorically refused to let her grandparents take care of the household chores. She wasn't one to challenge them or act stubborn, but on this matter, she made a point of being firm—in the most polite way possible.
She had taken it upon herself to clean the apartment before they moved all their belongings in. Cleaning also gave her a chance to clear her head. Ironically, after the experience she'd been through, Mariya no longer feared the hollows. When she saw them lurking in corners, she managed to ignore them as if they weren't even 're nothing compared to that thing we faced,she would think to herself each time, with a nonchalance that really should have worried her.
In fact, she found herself looking at them almost with disdain. And—more ironically still—it was the moment she realized this disdain that she felt fear.
For herself.
That fear hit her when she was taking out the trash and spotted one, lingering in yet another shadowy corner.
Pathetic little trash.
Disgusting.
Useless.
Mariya stopped dead in her tracks, overwhelmed by dark, negative emotions that nearly swallowed her whole.
Still... she didn't like the direction her thoughts—and her emotions—were taking.
Every time she caught herself thinking that these things were nothing more than rugs to tread upon, she pinched the skin of her hand and took a deep breath. She'd think of volcanoes, the sea, the galaxy, the sky—grand, awe-inspiring things that reminded her how small she was, just a tiny speck in the vastness of the universe. And she'd remind herself that if she continued down this path of negativity (justified as it may have been), she'd run into serious trouble.
(With God, who'll smite the heck out of her. Or karma, or whatever you believe in, honestly.)
In short:she needed to chill right now.
(Little did she know she was about to meet someone with an ego so massive—but anyway.)
And on top of all that, this wasn't good for her. With a surprising amount of self-awareness, Mariya realized that if she kept this up (beyond angering forces far greater than herself), she'd risk becoming a truly insufferable person.
Which she didn't want. Even if her disdain was reserved solely for these hollows—and justified at that.
After all, not once had she seen them contribute anything positive to society.
All they did was act like little devils. But... even so, she refused to become bitter.
First of all, it wasn't good for her skin. She'd suffered enough after her initial panic with the breakout she'd gotten on her chin—those spots had been stubborn to clear, and she'd had to upgrade her skincare routine! Not to mention the endless dark circles under her eyes.
And second, it wasn't good for her health either. If she kept brooding and stewing in hatred, she'd end up with high blood pressure or worse.
But most importantly, she was sure it was exactly that kind of negativity that would attract them. She refused to endanger her family again, even if she didn't quite understand how it worked. And she also refused to spiral into some kind of antihero vibe. That kind of thing might be cute in a manga, but in real life? It wascringe.
No, thank you.
Watanabe Tetsuya, the kendo instructor her grandfather had entrusted with the dojo, didn't live there. Mariya's grandmother had confided during the move that her grandfather had once offered the space to Watanabe-san for convenience, but the man had politely declined.
Even so, Tetsuya and his family had been instrumental in helping them settle into their new, albeit temporary, life.
To express her gratitude, Mariya had begun babysitting his eight-year-old son, little Takeru.
Like today.
"Maaaariyaaaa!"
"Taaaakeeeeruu!" Mariya sang back, her voice playful, her smile bright. Her heart warmed as the small boy came bounding toward her, his joy radiating as brightly as the sun through the clouds.
She knelt, arms open wide, and Takeru hurled himself into her embrace, wrapping his tiny arms tightly around her neck. His small, warm body seemed to thaw the lingering chill in her heart, and she held him close as though anchoring herself to his inexhaustible energy.
And then, as he had every day for the past three weeks, he tilted his head up and declared, his voice filled with a kind of innocent certainty:
"Marry me?!"
Mariya laughed aloud, lifting him into her arms and twirling him in circles. His small legs flailed with excitement as his giggles echoed through the room, a sound so pure and joyful that it chased away even the darkest of thoughts.
"Sorry, Mariya-chan, for asking you to babysit again," Watanabe Miyo, Takeru's mother, called from the doorway, shaking her head fondly at her son's antics.
"There's no need to apologize, Miyo-san! I'm happy to help," Mariya replied warmly, gently setting Takeru down. The boy remained glued to her side, his short brown hair catching the warm light, his grin missing a baby tooth and complemented by a small bandage on his nose.
"Ehehe!" he giggled, his joy as contagious as it was unrestrained.
Mariya had grown deeply fond of Takeru in a remarkably short time. Whenever his mother needed a quiet moment to run errands, Mariya gladly stepped in. In return, Takeru eagerly shared his kendo knowledge, instructing her with the solemnity of a seasoned teacher.
"Come on, Mariya! Bend your legs more!"
"Hai, hai, Takeru-sensei!" she replied with mock seriousness, earning a decisive nod of approval from her pint-sized master.
Afterward, they would sit on the tatami mats, sharing homemade snacks Mariya had prepared with her grandmother. Takeru would chatter about his schoolmates endlessly.
"I remember Ami-chan brought a little white stuffed toy to school, and it fell on the floor. I helped her wash it!"
"That was so thoughtful of you, Takeru-kun!" Mariya praised him, her smile bright and genuine. "Always remember to be kind, I'm proud of you."
"Hug?" he asked, his wide eyes shining with innocence.
Mariya's heart melted. How could anyone be so impossibly endearing? She scooped him up for a hug and began tickling him, his delighted laughter filling the room like music.
Later, when Miyo returned with her shopping bags, she found them seated on the floor, constructing a grand castle out of multicolored plastic bricks.
"It'll be strong enough to keep out all the bad guys—even dragons!" Takeru proclaimed with fiery determination, while Mariya cheered him on as though he were an architect unveiling the blueprints to a masterpiece.
"Look at this! A true marvel!" Mariya declared, raising her arms theatrically.
Miyo smiled softly at the sight. "It looks like you two had fun."
"He's incredibly talented," Mariya joked, feigning the gravitas of a critic. "I think he might have a future as an architect."
Takeru puffed out his chest with pride, only to pause and frown thoughtfully. "No, I'm going to be a samurai like Dad!" he declared, thrusting a small fist into the air with conviction.
"Oh, of course, Takeru-sensei! You can achieve anything you set your mind to!" Mariya ruffled his hair affectionately, her words earning a radiant smile in return.
All in all, life had returned to a semblance of normalcy.
Or, at least, as normal as could be expected.
On her grandparents' side, they had established a clear set of rules:
Rule 1:Nothing goes in.
Rule 2: It is strictly forbidden to go out at night.
Rule 3:Always keep something for self-defense within reach and avoid wearing uncomfortable shoes.
Rule 4:Never forget your phone in case help is needed.(Only three numbers were saved in her phone: her grandmother's, her grandfather's, and the police. If the situation was dire, she was to call the police immediately and always send her location whenever going out alone or parting ways.)
Rule 5:Keep a low profile. (If they spotted one of the creatures, they were not to stare or give any indication that they could see it. Drawing attention would only invite danger. Mariya, by now, had become an expert at ignoring them—a skill her grandparents were still learning.)
The fight they had endured lingered vividly in her mind.
Beyond Satoru's extraordinary abilities (and the fact that he seemed to havesuperpowersstraight out of an anime), what truly occupied her thoughts was how her grandfather had held his own against the monster.
Mariya had never fully grasped just how skilled a kendoka her grandfather was until then. She still recalled how he spun, darted, and single-handedly held the hollow at bay. To this day, she couldn't quite understand how he'd managed it. Naturally, she'd asked him about it.
"It's because of bushido," he had replied when she brought it up while they sat in the kitchen. Her grandmother had been upstairs folding laundry.
The answer didn't satisfy her. Sure, having a warrior's code might help you stay composed in tough situations, but this was far beyond "tough." It was something straight out of a Toei Animation production!
"Grandpa, I believe you, okay? I mean, mindset is important in a fight." After all, if she hadn't been determined to stand her ground—or to die with a smile on her face—she would have been paralyzed with fear or groveling for her life. Both scenarios made her skin crawl instinctively. "But… you were spinning around that monster. You were like Yamamoto—he's a super strong guy from the manga Bleach! I remember seeing you recover midair so easily. You parried every attack. And even though it managed to hit you, you're not as hurt as you should be!"
Her voice rose with excitement, her amber eyes alight with curiosity and awe as she leaned forward, practically vibrating with energy. Mariya was usually composed, but she was still fifteen, and her teenage giddiness got the better of her as she remembered her grandfather's performance.
Realizing how animated she'd become, she cleared her throat awkwardly, trying to regain her poise under her grandfather's raised brows.
"I mean, you've had some specific training, right?" she asked, forcing herself to sit straighter, though her face was red with embarrassment.
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, barely hidden behind his teacup.
"Yes, indeed. We have a family tradition that Yusuke doesn't care for. We pass down our art from generation to generation, much like the dojo. Our family has always had slightly enhanced physical abilities."
It was true that Mariya had always excelled at sports. Apparently, that was enough to hold their own against a monster.
Go figure.
He paused before continuing. "I thought it would end with me and Yusuke. If not for my student… But given the circumstances, it's imperative that I teach you."
So you can escape.
He didn't say those words aloud, but she heard them as clearly as if he'd shouted them. The mental image of her grandfather screaming like a rock star was so absurd that she burst into laughter—a nervous, jittery laugh that spilled out before she could stop it. She wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of running away from danger, but she hadn't yet fully processed the implications.
Her grandfather's expression tightened, and she realized she'd unintentionally insulted him. Jumping to her feet, she circled the table, waving her hands in a flustered apology.
"Grandpa, that's not what I meant! I take you seriously, it's just… I pictured you screaming like a rock star…" She groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I'm not helping, am I?"
"Not in the slightest," came his curt reply.
Mariya stepped closer and gently placed her hand over his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She felt his hand tense slightly—he wasn't used to displays of affection, something she'd noticed ever since she'd hugged him for the first time after a decade apart.
That hadn't stopped her from continuing to show affection, especially since he'd never outright objected.
"I do take you seriously," she said, her tone as firm as she could manage. "But… how do you plan to teach me this art? Even with everything we did, we barely managed to hold our own against that thing, which kept regenerating. And my stamina is… well, not great. I mean not as great as it used to be."
Her muscles were still sore, and her bruises hadn't fully faded. It was a miracle she'd walked away with as few injuries as she had. That thing had thrown her across the yard multiple times.
"Right now, we have no real means of defending ourselves. But we need to prepare for another attack—to escape with as few injuries as possible, should it happen again. Which, obviously, I hope it doesn't. The young man who came to our aid made it clear it shouldn't, as long as we're careful about what we bring into the house."
Mariya and her grandparents had been thrust into a hidden, intricate world far beyond their understanding. But at least one thing was clear: there were others like her.
Others who could see the hollows—and fight them.
That was the impression Satoru had given her; he seemed to know what he was doing.
Mariya didn't want what had happened to her to happen to anyone else. Her savior... as she liked to call him. Or rather, Gojo Satoru. She had clearly heard his full name, despite her dazed state.
The boy from the crepe shop.
He had fought off the creature that had nearly killed them with such ease. If she could learn to fight like that, something like this would never happen again.
But how had he done it?
She had felt something from him—a kind ofenergy, vast and overwhelming, that had taken her breath away. An immense, intense pressure. So intense that it completely overshadowed whatever that monster had been projecting. It made her realize that this was the same energy she had been sensing from the very beginning. She had never felt anything like it before. She didn't even know how she knew it was energy. Maybe she hadn't noticed it earlier, too focused on fighting for her life. Or maybe her brain had blocked it out to keep her from being even more terrified, she theorized.
Or perhaps she had just imagined it, and all of this was nothing more than a figment of her mind. Maybe she had simply wanted to see him in what she thought were her final moments. It all felt so unreal.
As unreal as monsters regenerating severed heads and going unseen by everyone else.
Mariya began rigorous training with her grandfather—and sometimes with Watanabe-san during his classes. She started running around the neighborhood to rebuild the stamina she'd lost since quitting rhythmic gymnastics.
Her training focused primarily on endurance and evasion. Under her grandfather's guidance, she worked on mastering footwork and sharpening her reflexes.
Mariya spent long hours practicing, determined never to feel as helpless as she had during that terrifying night.
These morning sessions, often accompanied by birdsong and crisp air, became a vital part of her routine. They reconnected her with her body and helped her channel her restless energy.
At the dojo, her grandfather instilled in her the principles of bushido, emphasizing discipline and adaptability. His lessons were punctuated with clear, almost militaristic advice, which he repeated until they became second nature: keep moving to avoid being an easy target, watch your opponent closely to anticipate their actions, and if escape was impossible, find even the smallest weakness to turn the situation to her advantage.
He also reminded her that in the absence of a weapon, anything within reach could become a tool for defense.
(The flaming piece of wood she had used—or even her makeshift slingshot—had been good ideas, it seemed.)
Under his watchful eye, Mariya honed her endurance and evasion skills, focusing on fluid movement and quick reflexes. Training wasn't just physical; it was mental too. She learned to anticipate, to think quickly, and to resist panic in the face of the unknown.
Over time, she saw progress. Her movements became smoother, her breathing more controlled, and her body gradually regained the strength and agility she thought she'd lost.
Yet with progress came disagreements and clashes of opinion between her and her grandfather.
The rules themselves were not something that bothered Mariya.
On the contrary, she understood them.
Kinda.
What troubled her, however, was the head-in-the-sand approach. It was something she had personally grown tired of and no longer wished to replicate.
For the first time since arriving in Japan, she felt like she was on the verge of discovering the truth, and now it was her own family who was acting as the barrier to prevent her from understanding. And so, little by little, their relationship had deteriorated. Between her training, spending time with Takeru, and her grandmother (whom she often cooked with — her grandmother preferred to act as though nothing had happened most of the time, though Mariya could hear her speaking softly to her grandfather when her back was turned. She knew they were talking about the hollows, and that her grandmother was truly struggling with it — but at least everyone in the family knew they weren't crazy, and that was something).
Now, the problem was elsewhere, since, as mentioned, her relationship with her grandfather had soured.
Mariya didn't know how they had gotten to this point, or rather, yes, she did. She was finding it harder and harder to pretend. Mariya was doing her best not to argue with him, but she was on the verge of acting behind his back, something she refused to do on principle. But it was becoming clear that she would end up seeking out Satoru on her own. She couldn't just stand idly by… for many reasons. The only solution she could think of was trying to contact Satoru. But her grandfather seemed absolutely opposed to it.
They had had several conversations on the subject.
Several.
"Why?" she exclaimed, completely not understanding. It was the most logical solution to their problem, to be sure of how to properly protect themselves from these things!
"No. I won't risk the family's safety by getting any more involved with these supernatural matters." Her grandfather's stern face reflected unwavering determination. No meant no.
Mariya pursed her lips. "But we could learn to defend ourselves properly. I don't understand why we have to stay hidden. We'll have to live with them anyway. We might as well learn how to protect ourselves in the best way possible."
"No. The young man clearly said that this kind of thing is rare, and I believe him. Such incidents happen extremely rarely, or else the population would be in a panic. Moreover, if we really needed something, he would have given us something to defend ourselves. That's not the case. With our current method, we can live peacefully without running into these creatures. We lived just fine before we saw them, and we'll live just as well today with a little adjustment."
Mariya was not satisfied with that answer. She understood her grandfather's concern for the family's safety, but she also felt a growing frustration with the helplessness that was tightening around them. For her, inaction was not an option. She tried to calm her frustration, her toes curling in her shoes to keep from showing just how much his answer frustrated her. She didn't want to disrespect him. But, she really failed to see his logic right now. Learning how to defend themselves wouldn't necessarily mean they were fighting actively against the hollows. Even though the comparison was a bit forced, it was like having a fire extinguisher at home. It didn't mean they were going to rush at every fire around them, nor did it mean a fire would suddenly break out in their home (yes, okay, the comparisonwasn't great).
Still, something felt off. This didn't make sense.
"But what if something like last time happens again? And what if I'm out there alone, at night, just this once? High school is coming up, and I'll be taking evening classes to prepare for my future entrance to university when the time comes!" She quickly added, "And what if I'm not here? What will you do then? I don't want the situation from last time to repeat itself," she insisted quietly, desperately trying not to raise her voice.
Her grandfather's gaze softened... yes, but his expression remained firm. "Mariya, I understand your concerns, but we survived that incident before. We'll find a way to keep doing so. There's no reason not to."
Mariya clenched her jaw way, she wanted to shout,was to find Satoru and ask him how he got rid of the hollow in our garden so easily, and ask who he really is!But she stopped herself, because Mariya wasn't generally one to shout to make her point heard, especiallynotto her grandparents. She breathed in deeply through her nose. She couldn't help but feel irritated. It didn't make sense not to rush towards a way of protecting themselves.
"The safest way to protect ourselves is to find an effective way to neutralize the hollows that are going to cause us trouble," Mariya began, trying to soften the edges of her thoughts. "Applying the rules we have set in place won't be enough." She felt like a broken record. She couldn't frame her arguments any differently.
"It's too dangerous, Mariya-chan," her grandmother gently intervened. "You shouldn't even be worrying about… " Her grandmother's voice trailed off, becoming a whisper, as if she were confessing a terrible, terrible secret. "… these creatures."
"Even though I'd rather not worry about these creatures, it's impossible. They're everywhere," Mariya gently countered.
"That's why you just have to ignore them," her grandfather said. "Just act as though they don't exist."
"That's what I did for a while, and it didn't stop us from finding ourselves in a dangerous situation." Mariya replied, looking at her grandfather. "These things can, for less of a better word,happenwhen we least expect it. I don't think simply avoiding them will suffice." she countered. "At the end of the day, we don't know anything about them. What we do know is that there is a way to defend ourselves effectively. We can't just go back to our normal life without even trying to find a way to kill them in case they attack us again."
Her grandfather shook his head. "We can't base our security on 'what ifs.' The young man clearly told me that this kind of accident is rare. We won't meddle with what doesn't concern us."
"And when my parents come? What are we going to tell them?" asked Mariya.
Her grandmother sighed softly and set the glass of water down on the kitchen table.
"Not going out too late in the evening doesn't seem strange for a high school student," her grandfather remarked.
True. Anyway, Mariya was used to not going out in the evening. She had a curfew to follow, and where she lived, a girl out at night? A very bad idea, unfortunately, even though she would have loved to take walks in the evening.
"And my evening classes?" Mariya pressed. "Shouldn't I be attending them?"
"We'll find a solution."
Which one?!
They were going in circles, and the conversation always came back to the samepoint.
She really didn't understand. Mariya looked down at her feet and clenched her jaw. She didn't understand.
It was like he didn't want her to meet Satoru again. She froze, gently looking at her toes. Why? What had happened when she lost consciousness? What wasn't he telling her? Or was it something else? She refused to believe her grandfather couldn't see the logic in her arguments. Damn, she would have thought he'd be the first to want to find a permanent way to kill them, so they could lead a less... less stressful life.
Because she had enjoyed the confrontation,she suddenly realized. It was like a thunderbolt to the young girl, and she felt every muscle freeze.
She had enjoyed the adrenaline that coursed through her veins when she fought the monster, she had enjoyed finding a way to finish it off, she had enjoyed that danger. A shiver ran down her spine when she suddenly looked up and met her grandfather's gaze, and suddenly she had the feeling that he understood.
Everything suddenly made sense now.
Was that why he was forbidding her from trying to contact Satoru?
Her gaze shifted to her grandmother, and Mariya realized that the only reason her grandfather hadn't called her out on this was because of her grandmother's presence. She also realized that an unspoken agreement had been made between them when she shot another glance at her. Don't act on it, and I won't say anything.
Her soul chilled somewhat. Not with fear. With... she didn't know, she didn't understand the feeling, given the turmoil of her current emotions.
Mariya wanted to protect her grandparents, that was true. And her solution was the most logical, that was true as well.
But she hadn't realized... she hadn't realized that a part of her wanted to experience that danger again, even though she tried to hide it from herself. Something had burned in her veins, in her very being, that day.
She was completely lost now.
She sat for a few seconds on the porch after muttering a small "Got it," and looked into the distance, her gaze lost in the void.
Rationally, Mariya knew she had little chance of finding Gojo Satoru. Japan was vast, and she didn't even know where to start looking for him.
Maybe he wasn't even in the same city anymore.
Mariya lowered her gaze to her blue-painted toes, lost in thought, and gently crossed them. They offered a nice contrast with her skin, she thought absent-mindedly before her thoughts returned to the mystery, her white-haired savior.
And those blue eyes.
Gojo Satoru had fascinated her from the start. Already, at the creperie, and then… His presence had been luminous, his strength a burning sensation throughout her whole being.
Yet, she had barely observed him the second time, but it had electrified her entire body.
'They told me there's a special grade here, but you're just pretty weak, aren't ya~ you're barely grade 3!'
His words exuded power and confidence, and although the tone could have been annoying if directed at her, she had no complaints.
The persistent image of Satoru wouldn't let her go. The incandescent energy that emanated from him took her breath away, as he was now nothing more than a lingering image. The fascination he had stirred in her was undeniable, and she had trouble understanding why.
Or rather... his strength attracted her like an ant to sugar.
Satoru represented an enigma in and of himself, a mystery wrapped in supernatural power. His teasing words, his disconcerting confidence, and his ability to handle danger had impressed her.
He was the face of a world she had never imagined, a reality where supernatural creatures roamed in the shadows. Mariya shivered softly as the evening wind lightly brushed her skin.
He hadn't seemed concerned about the danger, just enjoying himself. He was unafraid, confident, maybe a little too much, but she had trouble assessing that for now. Or at least, that's the impression it had left her with. Such carefree joy, such power... her toes curled, and she knew, deep within herself.
She knew she wanted to be like him.
It was two days after a minor spat at dinner (yet again) that she decided to sneak out for the first time in her life.
She couldn't take it anymore.
And it was at that precise moment—during that fateful third encounter—that Mariya was recruited.
She found herself in some kind of abandoned building, far from her grandparents' home. It was an abandoned school, one of the many scattered across Japan.
Mariya had rushed inside, not wanting to linger outside alone, seeking nothing more than a quiet place to think.
She didn't understand her own reactions. She was irritable, on edge, suffocating under an invisible weight.
She didn't want to go home. But she still missed her parents. She wanted to relive the sensations that had awakened within her almost a month ago. She wanted… to live. She had never known that something was missing from her life until all of this.
You're only fifteen!
Her grandfather's words continued to echo in her head, following their earlier argument. She clenched her jaw. And so what? Did that mean she wasn't allowed to make her own decisions?
It's selfish. Do you want to worry us sick?
Those words struck a nerve. It was selfish, and she had never thought of herself as selfish. Never. She had always been generous—a trait inherited from her mother's side of the family. Guests were frequent visitors at their home, where they were fed, showered with gifts. Neighbors often knocked on their door for spices, and they returned the favor. Her mother, a social butterfly, had taught her how to welcome others, how to be a good host. She had instilled in her the value of caring for someone else, even if they were a stranger.
So Mariya had never seen herself as selfish. Never!
But those words thrown in her face… they were true! No matter how much she tried to fight it, no matter how hard she tried to restrain herself, she couldn't help it—shewantedanother incident to happen! Shewantedto face one of those monsters again! She wanted to feel that heart-pounding excitement, that rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins once more.
Something was calling her. As though it were her destiny—her creed.
She remembered how she had hurled those stones at the creature. In the moment, all she had wanted was to help her grandfather kill that thing—but a strange feeling had seized her.
The sensation of power mingled with an exhilarating fear had left an indelible mark on Mariya's mind. She remembered the thrill that had surged down her spine when the stone had struck the curse, diverting its attention and giving her grandfather a crucial opening.
So… was it really so selfish just to want to relive those experiences?
Now, in the darkness of the night, she stood before an abandoned building, reflecting on that experience. Her encounter with that monster had changed her in ways she couldn't fully explain.
But it was undoubtedly her brief meeting with Gojo Satoru that had shaped her spirit forever.
She was at an impasse.
Mariya gazed morosely at the dilapidated structure. It looked like an abandoned school, judging by the small dog statue in front. Her amber eyes gleamed like a cat's in the night as her footsteps carried her to the entrance of the building—a primary school.
The girl slipped through the half-broken door and wandered through the dark, dusty hallways, her hands buried in her sweatshirt. The broken windows let in moonlight, casting dancing shadows on the crumbling walls and across her skin, bathing her raven-black hair in a silvery glow. She stopped for a moment, staring out of a window at the full moon, her eyes lost in its brightness. A shiver ran down her spine, and she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck.
A few steps later, she found herself in a dilapidated classroom, with overturned desks and scattered books littering the floor. At the back of the room were cubbyholes, some still bearing the names of the children who once studied there.
Takade Emiko.Sarutobi Hanako.(Naruto? Is that you?She couldn't help but snort at her own not-so-funny joke.)
Kijima Satoru.
Her attention landed on the last .She blinked, startled. The lightheartedness she had just managed to summon shattered.
The universe—or something—was doing everything it could to remind her. Mariya knelt down, groaning, and rubbed her face with her hands. She exhaled softly and blinked, her gaze lowering… and landing on her toes, painted blue.
Like her eyes.
So mundane compared to her eyes, yet it was the most vibrant blue she had.
Her lashes brushed her cheekbones as she closed her eyes again. Finally, she sighed and opened them once more, letting her gaze drift from her toes to the ground and then to a small mirror hanging on one of the cubbyholes.
Mariya stared at her reflection. The moonlight illuminated her face, making her cat-like eyes glimmer, accentuating the delicate curve of her jaw, draping her in an aura of purity.
A creak.
At first, she didn't understand where the sound came from. She furrowed her brow and glanced over her shoulder, trying to see if someone had wandered into the hallway.
Nothing. She scanned the surroundings suspiciously, straining her ears and breathing softly through her nose. Still nothing.
Her eyes returned to the mirror—and at that precise moment, cracks began to form on its surface.
The cracks spread slowly, weaving a fragile web that distorted her reflection.
A wave of unease gripped her as she realized something was wrong. She stepped back cautiously, watching the mirror, which seemed moments away from shattering. The cracks grew until the mirror suddenly exploded, the sound a deafening detonation in the graveyard silence that now set Mariya on edge.
The instant the shards scattered across the floor, Mariya felt it.
A presence.
Insidious.
Dark.
Menacing.
Like a specter, it grew, silently spreading through the classroom, an oppressive darkness that seemed to suffocate the air itself. Mariya's shoulders involuntarily tensed, shivers rippling down her back. Her eyes widened, gripped by growing dread, yet she didn't dare turn around, her body frozen with apprehension.
The chills, like icy fingers, trailed down her spine before gripping her shoulders with force, shaking her violently. Her body trembled, the primal alarm in the depths of her being growing louder and louder. Her survival instincts. The tension in the air was palpable, electrifying every fiber of her being. And then, in that terrifying moment of suspense, she sensed it—something sinister, something she couldn't name, hovering just behind her.
That realization gave her the courage to turn around—or was it survival instinct? Or a contemplative fear? She didn't know, didn't have the time to ponder, because right in front of her, just a few steps away, stood a monster.
With a twisted appearance and eyes glowing with malevolent light, it slowly materialized. It was like a devastating calamity, its tentacles extensions of its malice—almost liquid masses. No,slimy,she thought absently, her mind still struggling to process what she was seeing.
And why? This wasn't her first time. With a certain detachment, like the calm before the storm, she wondered what made this situation so different from what she had already experienced.
He howled. Straight at her. Wind break through the classroom, making her ponytail going crazy. Her eyes watered at the sudden strength of it and she instinctively protected herself by putting her arms in front of her face for a few seconds. Shards of the broken mirror flew away, and one of it sliced her ankle.
Pain broke through her body, sharp and hot, intense and ground-breaking. It indeed awaken her, pulling her out of her stupefied state. She let out a cry and crouched down clenching her ankle, trembling. And then, then, like an infectious disease, fear silently seeped into her.
The bile rose in her throat as she stared at the monster in horror. Her body tensed, her muscles locking up. Her breathing quickened. A crushing weight bore down on her bones, heavy and relentless. She was paralyzed. The pain in her ankle was nothing more than a distant echo now.
But she had to move!
Move. Move. Move!
Her thoughts collided violently in her mind, like shards of glass whirling and crashing in the darkness.
The pounding of her heart thundered in her ears—
The monster raised one of its tentacles, a sinister growl reverberating from deep within its grotesque form, swelling like a balloon, like... a Jigglypuff?
Move. Move. MOVE!
It swung at her.
Her body reacted instinctively, pure terror burning hot through her veins while paradoxically freezing her solid.
She threw herself to the side, with every fiber of her being, with every ounce of her soul, adrenaline coursing violently as the monster lashed out at her with brutal force. The tentacle smashed into the row of lockers, obliterating them with terrifying power, the sound erupting like a cannon in the still night air. Dust exploded into the room, thick and choking, just like the smoke that had filled her grandparents' home—what felt like a lifetime ago. Mariya coughed and sneezed, her nose inhaling the suffocating dust, her eyes watering uncontrollably.
She slid clumsily across the floor, barely managing to catch herself, her wide eyes fixed on the sheer devastation wrought by a single attack. The lockers were shredded, the wall smashed to bits. Cracks were already spidering outward from the gaping holes left behind where the lockers had been.
Her first thought was:I'm done for.
Her second thought was:It's so slow.
Still trembling from her near-miss, Mariya recalled her grandfather's words:
Never stay still. Don't make yourself an easy target.
Her wide eyes darted around the room—and landed on a jagged shard of glass gleaming in the moonlight.
Without hesitation, Mariya flung her arm out and grabbed the shard hissingwhen she cut herself but she didn't have the time to worry about that, adrenaline chalking up the sensation to the back of her mind, like the one on her ankle. She grabbed the biggest shard she could find and handled it like a small knife, ready to strike if necessary.
But first, she tore a piece of her T-shirt and wrapped it around the shard of glass to avoid cutting herself further.
If you don't have a weapon on you, use whatever is around to defend yourself.
The creature screamed again, planting itself firmly on its tentacles before launching at her like an Olympic high jumper. "MY SNAAAAACK!"
But Mariya followed command number one to the letter, never staying still for a moment. She kept her legs moving, just as she had trained, weaving around the tables and keeping as much distance as possible between herself and the grotesque creature.
The monster landed where she had been just moments before with a deafeningBANG, making the ground quake and splitting the floor beneath it.
Mariya's breath hitched in her throat.
The creature was undeniably powerful—but it was slow. Mariya's brain 's slow. Powerful but meant she had a chance to get away if she could outrun it. The problem was her stamina. It was better than it used to be, thanks to her training with her grandfather, but still not good enough.
The other issue was that if she took even a single hit from this thing, she'd be finished. It seemed stronger than the monster in their garden. One blow and she'd be knocked out—or worse, killed.
I have no choice.
The creature leapt again, higher this time, and Mariya panicked, scrambling to dodge and trying to predict where it would land—
But it didn't attack her. It just crashed into the ground, as though trying to catch something. Like a ball. A monstrous Jigglypuff.
The hollow slammed into the floor with a force that shook the classroom once more. Mariya lost her footing and barely managed to steady herself by grabbing onto a table. The shard of glass dug into her palm, and she cried out in pain, instinctively letting go to cradle her hand.
Tears stung her eyes as she glanced at her palm, blinking them away. The wound wasn't deep, but it still hurt. Mariya had always struggled with pain. She bit the inside of her cheek and tried to take a deep breath.
Stay calm. Stay. Calm.
The creature leapt again, emitting a strange squeal as though it were enjoying itself. Mariya shot it a frightened glance, her fragile composure beginning to crack.
The ground trembled once more, and Mariya stumbled again, catching herself by slamming her hands onto a table with a loud smack. Pain shot up her arm, and she groaned, her legs trembling beneath her.
She gritted her teeth, a sudden surge of anger taking over—an anger she couldn't quite explain.
She glared at the shadowy Jigglypuff, her breaths ragged. This hollow wasplayingwith her, she realized. Its focus was fleeting, doing only what entertained it in the a child,she thought again. The hollow in their garden hadn't behaved like this, even if it had been incredibly dumb.
Mariya kept moving, never letting the creature out of her sight. She switched the makeshift knife to her uninjured hand—her right hand was bleeding too much to hold it properly. She bit her lower lip and wiped her injured hand nervously on her shorts, groaning softly at the searing pain. Her hand felt like it was on fire.
Her cautious gaze lingered on the creature before being drawn to a desk leg lying on the floor nearby. The hollow had stopped jumping and was now flailing its tentacles wildly, slapping them against one another. The sound was deafening, like being in the middle of a construction site. But, for now, it wasn't paying attention to her.
Seeing an opening, Mariya's heart pounded as she lunged for the desk leg, grabbing it. The cold metal sent a shiver through her skin, and she hissed when her injured palm pressed against it. She was bleeding—it was just a shallow cut, but infections I'm going to get, the infections I'm going to get, the infectioooons!A tiny, panicked part of her brain sang in a hypocritical frenzy—or maybe not.
She abandoned the shard of glass, keeping her eyes glued to the creature, which had already switched to a new "game." It was now rolling around on the ground, entangling itself in its own tentacles. Mariya moved carefully around it, determined not to become an easy target.
"GAME GAME GAAAAAME!" it screeched, its voice a storm of children's voices—a cacophony ripped straight from the most horrifying films. Its attention seemed elsewhere, its focus as fleeting as that of a toddler.
It acted like a child. And they were in an elementary school. In a classroom. Mariya was convinced this wasn't a coincidence. Was it the manifestation of children's desires? Or did it cling to them?
But this thing waswrong. Children weren't inherently evil—they embodied innocence. Some could be cruel, yes, but only because they didn't understand the harm they caused... Though some found cruelty amusing.
If you can't run, find its weakness.
The hollow in their garden had feared fire. Even if it hadn't been enough to defeat it, the flames had still scared or fascinated it in some way.
And Mariya was starting to piece together this creature's weakness.
Its lack of focus, of course.
Somewhere, it thought like a child. Of course, she couldn't treat it as such—it remained a monstrous creature—but she could use that to her advantage.
Mariya's gaze darted to the left, toward the door, before flicking to the windows.
Two exits.
The door, already open, would be the easier route, but there was no guarantee the creature wouldn't snatch her up with its tentacles before she could reach it. Nothing said her movement wouldn't snap it out of its bizarre trance.
It had stopped rolling and was now playing with its tentacles again, growling with those warped children's voices she could hear so clearly.
The window…She could try breaking the glass with her makeshift bat, but there was no guarantee it would shatter on the first strike. She might not have enough time to do it—and worse, she could end up injuring herself in the process.
Two exits.
A monster blocking the way.
Mariya bit her lower lip.
Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she rapidly assessed her options. The creature, still engrossed in its chaotic play, wasn't paying attention to her—at least not for now. This was her chance, and she had to seize it.
"GAME! GAME!" the hollow chanted, its tentacles flailing wildly.
Her eyes dropped to the desk leg in her hands. An idea began to form. A plan. She couldn't keep running forever—she needed to end this.
The hollow seemed too absorbed in its own amusement to notice her for the moment. But how much longer would that last?
She cast a quick glance around, measuring the distance to the door and the window.
The creature let out a screech of excitement, its tentacles thrashing like frenzied snakes. Mariya knew she had only one shot to make this work.
Just one.
She took a deep breath, planted her feet firmly, and hurled the desk leg toward the door with every ounce of strength she could muster. The metal collided with the door in a loud, metallicclang, and the sound immediately caught the hollow's attention.
The creature turned toward the door with a curious growl, its focus drawn away. Seizing the distraction, Mariya bolted for the window. Her heart thundered in her chest as she snatched the shard of glass she had abandoned earlier, sliding it into the pocket of her shorts.
"GAME! SENSEEEEI!" the hollow screeched, its distorted voice shifting unnervingly between the voices of children.
Mariya braced herself, her eyes darting between the window and the creature.
She had to be fast.
Gripping the edges of the window, she bit down hard on her lip to stifle a cry of pain as her injured palm pressed against it. Summoning strength she didn't know she had, she pulled with all her might—but the window didn't budge.
She tried again, straining, but it was no use. She cursed under her breath, her breathing quick and shallow, and grabbed the shard of glass from her pocket. The sharp edge nicked her hand again, but she was too caught up in the moment to care.
Stealing a glance over her shoulder, she saw the monster transfixed by the desk leg she had thrown into the hallway. It had taken the improvised weapon in its tentacles and was bending it effortlessly, as though it were a flimsy piece of plastic. The sight sent a shiver down her spine, spurring her to lift the shard of glass toward the window. She had to act quickly, decisively.
The window looked fragile—it was an old building, after all. Mariya didn't have the strength to lift one of the desks and smash the glass, nor did she see any other viable options. Shehadto make this work.
Taking a sharp breath, Mariya struck the glass hard. She felt it crack beneath the impact, fissures spidering out from the center like the broken mirror she'd seen earlier.
The creature, suddenly aware of her intent, let out a furious roar. "BULLYYYYY!"
Panic surged through Mariya as she spun around, her eyes 't become a target. Don't lose sight of it.
It was now in the hallway, facing her, its tentacles undulating in a grotesque, sticky dance. If it had fur, Mariya was certain it would be standing on end with rage. Or irritation? She wasn't sure. She couldn't make sense of this hollow.
Her mind raced at full speed, jumping from 'I'm going to die' to 'You need to fight' to 'Find a solution!' in line with the rules and commands of her family. Her thoughts tangled, caught in a swamp of terror, panic, and questions.
Until a crazy idea struck her. Snack. Bully.
All of this in less than a second.
She opened her mouth and shouted. "Hey, you ugly thing! Who stole your snack?!"
Just one second. The monster roared in anger and sent one of its tentacles flying toward her.
Mariya was ready, her legs bent. She dropped sharply, crying out, the muscular effort immense. The tentacle passed just above her head, the wind it created slapping her forehead, and she felt something run down her face. Blood. No time! The window shattered under the force of the blow, creating an escape route.
A moment of silence. Mariya looked at the still-tensed tentacle, a cold sweat trickling down her back. Wide-eyed, she wondered how she was going to escape through the window. She gripped the shard of glass in her hand, a sensation swirling in her stomach and veins. Some kind of electric shock, or heat, she couldn't quite describe it. A force, an energy, and part of her brain recognized it.
With a scream, her trembling muscles straining, Mariya violently drove her shard into its tentacle. She didn't react when she saw that her makeshift knife was surrounded by a kind of dark aura tinged with purple. However, her eyes widened when it let out a howl of pain... and its entire limb exploded. Mariya looked at the shard of glass, still pulsing with that eerie glow.
Maybe...
No. Run.
Mariya wasted no more time. She sprinted through the opening, cutting herself slightly along the way.
The cool night air slammed into her as she landed on the other side of the window. She rolled across the ground, rising quickly despite the pain. She was drenched in blood. Her ankle, her hand, her forehead. They were cuts, but they hurt, and she wasn't used to bearing pain. Still, adrenaline, the situation, everything helped mask those painful sensations and focus her on a single thing: her escape.
She didn't waste any time and sprinted for her life, gritting her teeth, heading straight for the forest. She glanced over her shoulder to check on the hollow. With its tentacles, it could grab her at any moment, and she was surprised it hadn't already tried. It was most likely because of its fluctuating attention span. Maybe it couldn't focus on just one thing. That seemed like the most probable explanation, as she couldn't understand how she had made it this far without being slaughtered by it. Sure, she had made sure to keep moving, never turn her back, and maintain her distance, but from a rational perspective, that alone shouldn't have been enough. The training she had with her grandfather hardly made her an elite fighter, and her years of gymnastics didn't either!
The ground trembled, and she felt it from where she was as she disappeared into the trees. Her eyes widened when the creature suddenly lunged.
Toward her.
It had wrapped its tentacles around the windows and was propelling itself straight at her, furious. "BULLY!"
Provoking the creature might have been a bad idea. It seemed focused on her now, its little black eyes of malice rolling like marbles.
But Mariya had overlooked one factor.
The walls shook again... and the ceiling literally collapsed. Mariya's eyes widened. She realized that if she had stayed one moment longer in that classroom, she would have perished under the rubble. The building was old! Of course, it would crumble under the power of this hollow!
Mariya screamed in terror, followed by a cry of shock when the monster crashed into a tree, uprooting it completely. "GOD ALMIGHTY!"
The hollow giggled, those disturbing children's voices sending chills down her spine. Mariya pivoted on her feet to face it. The thing was just a few meters away now, the trees having apparently slowed it down in its pursuit. It grabbed the trunk it had just destroyed, coiling its tentacle around it before hurling it directly at her.
Mariya screamed in terror and threw herself to the side with all her strength, her body hitting the ground violently. Her jacket ripped on impact, and she scratched her shoulder. She let out a cry of pain, her breath knocked out of her, her ribs aching terribly.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she backed away, dragging herself further from the thing. She bit her tongue and forced herself to rise on trembling legs, her body on fire, eyes watering as she looked at the hollow. She blinked and wiped away the tears running down her cheeks, before forcing herself to run again. She couldn't afford to stay in one place. She weaved between the trees, trying to avoid forming a pattern and blocking its attacks with the trees in the forest. It was slow but powerful. It was also stupid, and its lack of attention hadn't disappeared, even though it was now specifically targeting her. That meant every time it slammed into a tree, it was disoriented, giving Mariya a little more of a lead to avoid getting swept up in one of its tentacles. However, it could still throw tree trunks at her, so she had to be careful.
"It's okay, Mariya. Just let it out. Tears are good," she muttered to herself, her trembling voice anchoring her, calming her down. She bit her bottom lip, furious with herself. She suddenly glared at the monster. It made so much noise that she knew exactly where it was at all times, which was lucky, but she also needed constant visual confirmation. This forest was a blessing. Without it, she would be dead. She realized that if she had chosen to flee through the hallway—and somehow managed to make it out the door—it would have already grabbed her with one of its long tentacles. She also realized that the only reason she still had the luxury of running for her life, hoping to escape, was because of the hollow's nature.
In essence, the stars had aligned for Mariya. Without it, she would have been horrifically dead.
But for how much longer? She was already exhausted, pushing herself to keep running. Only terror was giving her the will to keep going. She was spent, and there was no solution in sight. She couldn't run forever.
She cursed under her breath. She had overestimated herself! She thought she was stuck in some childish sequence, that it would be enough to catch its attention and then divert it to something else, but no. She had managed to make it angry—
A tree uprooted, then another, and Mariya screamed in terror before quickly turning around, no longer feeling safe with that thing behind her. She was now running backward, not even sure how she was doing it, and not bothering to understand! Desperation was doingwonders!
"GAAAAAME! GAMMMME!" screamed the hollow across the forest.
Suddenly, Mariya had an epiphany. Game. Children's games.
She hesitated.
She had nothing to lose. She had to try everything to get out of this situation. She inhaled, ignoring the pain in her ribs, her shoulder, the burning sensations in her hand, ankle, and forehead. She turned those sensations into a boost, electrifying her body, giving her the strength to shout those words without faltering:
"HIDE AND SEEK!" she yelled with all her might, her gaze fierce.
Her heart skipped a beat when the creature suddenly stopped, its little eyes still wildly spinning in their sockets. Out of the corner of her eye, Mariya thought she saw a crow. A blink later, and she saw nothing. The moonlight was bright enough to illuminate everything, but she must have imagined what she saw.
"GAAAAAME!" It howled again. "HIIIIIIIDDDEEEE!" It ordered.
So he wants her to hide. She bit her lower lip, almost collapsing from sheer surprise that it actually worked.
It turned its tentacles around, hiding its eyes. "OOOOONEEEEE..."
Mariya didn't waste any time. Instead of running in the opposite direction, she stepped toward it. What would be the point otherwise?
She had, of course, considered going back to the classroom and finding her way from there. But nothing said she would even make it there. And she was tired. Her body could barely hold on, her limbs were trembling, and pain was starting to invade her mind. It was getting harder to push it aside. She wasn't going to last; it would kill her deep in the forest. She didn't kid herself—this thing was unstable.
It would find her eventually. She wasn't Usain Bolt, able to sprint 100 meters in 9 seconds, and certainly not going to beat Eyeshield 21's 4.2 seconds!
No. Mariya was going to try to kill it.
She had no choice but to face it.
She hadn't forgotten how her hand had glowed with that black and purple light. She remembered the sensation running through her veins. And how she had been able to destroy one of its tentacles.
It hadn't escaped her that it hadn't regenerated yet. And for some unknown reason, she felt it was much weaker. She didn't know how, but the pressure it was emitting was less intense, less oppressive.
Her thoughts collided rapidly as the hollow continued counting.
"TEN! ELEVEN!..."
Should I climb a tree and jump on it to massacre it with broken glass? Or should I cut it one by one? Should I hit it and retreat, asking it to play again? But that might not work, and it could get angrier.
So, it's one strike.
One single strike.
I need to slice it from top to bottom. I need to massacre it.
It's do or die.
As Mariya was about to spring into action, a sudden thought froze her in place:
I don't have to reach the school in one sprint.
She could try to coax it into playing with her until she reached the school. A game of hide and seek, considering he might not always want to chase after her. She could alternate between finding it and letting it find her. But nothing guaranteed that it wouldn't wander deeper into the forest. Unless she could cleverly guide it toward the primary school.
But how could she do that? She had literally no influence over it, and she understood very little of its... psychology. If it had any. It was that of a child. It swung between acting like a bully, a playful child, and a bullied child.
Pressure began mounting within Mariya, like an alarm going off. Her breath quickened. The pain had become a companion she was increasingly struggling to endure.
Make up your up your up your mind!
"...FIFTEEN, SIXTEEN, SEVENTEEN!"
The countdown made her a ball of anxiety, messing with her rational thinking. Mariya knew she was well beyond panic by now, holding on only by the strength of her nerves.
Attacking him would be madness. She'd only have one chance, and if she missed it, she'd be at his mercy.
But if she could direct him where she wanted... an opportunity might present itself.
I'm no superhero, I don't have a zanpakuto, and I'm certainly not going to start throwing Kamehamehas. And no one has any senzu beans for me if he breaks every bone in my body! And clearly, I don't have any superpowers like Satoru!
"TWENTY! TWENTY-ONE! TWENTY-TWO!"
Sweat beaded on her forehead. She hesitated for a second. The second stretched, crystallized, and exploded. Her body sprang into motion, her legs launching forward. She was resolute. She circled around a tree to keep him from seeing her and charged toward the primary school. Mariya decided to run at the pace of a light jog. She had to conserve the little strength she had left. Her legs and body were on fire, and the burden of that pain weighed heavily on her. She had to battle herself to avoid stopping to catch her breath, not to mention the nasty stitch in her side that flared up.
A metallic taste flooded her throat.
She heard the hollow continue its countdown, but she forced herself to block it out. Focused on her run, Mariya weaved between the trees, taking detours to confuse the creature.
"THIRTEEEEEEEN!"
She knew he would be searching for her now. Mariya quickly hid behind a tree, taking the chance to catch her breath. She tried not to take deep breaths and avoided leaning on the tree. If she did, she was done; she was sure she wouldn't be able to move again.
The hollow's tentacles thrashed in every direction, searching for her. At times, she could feel the pressure of its presence. Less intense than before, she reminded herself again, that thought never leaving her mind.
The hollow was making a monstrous noise, thrashing happily around, knocking trees down and tossing them aside in its new game. It was distracted again. Mariya hesitated. Should she seize the chance and flee? No, she decided almost immediately. Bad idea.
The creature seemed to have grown bored of its new game and was now actively hunting her, coiling its tentacles and swinging. When it spotted her, it exclaimed, "FOUND!"
Mariya almost found it cute. Almost.
An instinct pushed her to shout, trying to mimic the childish excitement in its voice, fueled by despair, "HIDE AND SEEK AGAIN!"
A moment passed, where Mariya could hear the frantic beating of her heart. The silence of the forest was like a heavy weight pressing on her, and her eyelids grew heavy.
Then, a screeching voice responded, "HIDE AND SEEK! READY OR NOT!" with enthusiasm, its tentacles rising as if ready to hunt. A heartbeat later, it placed its tentacles over its eyes and began counting. "ONE, TWO..."
Mariya's eyes widened. It worked. It worked! She didn't loosen her grip on her makeshift knife.
Mariya dashed into the forest, looking for places to hide, still heading toward the primary school. In reality, she wasn't that far anymore; she could see the building. When it stopped counting (this time at twenty, Mariya noting it wasn't keeping a precise count), she hid behind a tree and waited for it to find her. When it showed signs of agitation and shouted "bully" in its thousand voices, Mariya revealed her location by shouting "hide and seek." Sometimes, the hollow wanted her to find it. Fortunately for her, it didn't venture further into the forest and continued toward the road she wanted to take.
When Mariya found it, she yelled, "Found you!"
And the game resumed, Mariya never losing sight of her goal. It was a miracle she was still alive.
She repeated that thought over and over to herself, to prevent getting overconfident, to stay alert.
Mariya could now see the building more clearly through the trees. She pushed herself harder, running with all the energy she had left. The hollow was following, its tentacles sweeping the air in a frenzy of search.
"HIDE AND SEEK AGAIN!" she yelled with all her might, slipping behind one last tree before reaching the clearing where the school stood. And the classroom that had collapsed. Mariya panicked for a moment before spotting other windows. She could sneak in through there.
The hollow, apparently thrilled with the game, started counting again, "ONE, TWO..." Mariya zigzagged, using every corner of darkness to hide, getting closer to the relative safety of the school.
Every moment counted, every scream from the hollow ringing out like a grim countdown. Mariya felt her strength waning, but she couldn't afford to weaken now. The building was right there, within reach, and with it, the hope of surviving this nightmarish ordeal. Of finding help.
She could do it. She could bring the building down on him, buying herself time to escape.
But she couldn't go on any longer. She had a taste of blood in her throat, and an intense headache was drilling into her skull. She couldn't hold on much longer. She still had to make it through the school's hallways and out of there.
Just a little more, don't give up. Just a little more. Just a little more!
"TWENTY-THREE, TWENTY-FOUR, TWENTY-FIVE!" it recited, its tentacles quivering with anticipation. Mariya felt each beat of her heart, each noisy breath, as she hid behind the last tree before rushing toward the windows of the classroom next door. She paused for a moment and almost collapsed. She couldn't go on. She couldn't go on. Tears burned her eyes, and she let them fall, a necessary release.
In that moment, in the black night, alone, Mariya knew she was going to die. Alone. In the middle of nowhere. Having done nothing. It hit her like a mountain, crushing her under its weight.
The helplessness she had felt in her grandparents' garden washed over her again. But not just that. The helplessness of not having been able to speak properly to her grandparents, of not having conveyed something she didn't even fully understand within herself.
The sensation of helplessness overwhelmed her, cutting off her breath and leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She didn't want to die, not like this. Not in the middle of this forest, far from home, far from those she loved. Not without at least talking to her grandparents.
She had been stupid. She hadn't thought. She had gone out at night, ignoring all the rules and precautions that had been set in place. And she had wanted this, she had wanted to feel this sensation, this exhilaration deep inside her. For what, in the end? For nothing. Her grandfather had been right: she was just going to get killed.
NO!
She bit her lower lip and wiped her tears from her cheeks with her clenched fist. Her vision cleared as she brushed away her tears, her eyes meeting her reflection in the glass. Dried blood on her forehead, a pale face, but eyes that shone. With tears, yes. With helplessness. With anger, if one looked at the corners of her mouth. But also with determination. The will to live. And something else, a feeling she had been trying to bury for a while, to hide, to ignore, to suppress.
But it had manifested, nonetheless, subtly, at the corners of her upturned mouth, in the frightening intensity of her eyes.
Exhilaration.
A laugh vibrated in her throat despite herself, resonating in her limbs. She almost trembled, her hollow cheeks stretched into a smile she could not describe. Yet her body was still taut with despair and anger. The despair of her own helplessness. The anger of being unable to do anything, of loving it but being tossed around. Her brain almost imploded.
She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to find a steady rhythm, trying by all means to concentrate. One breath in. One breath out. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. Again. And again.
Her emotions fought within her, mirroring the battle she was fighting at that moment. Almost automatically, Mariya struck the glass violently with her makeshift knife. The glass shattered. She barely noticed the black and purple glow vibrating from the knife, and she jumped into the classroom. She wasted no time, sprinting down the hallway, bathed in the moonlight.
In the distance, the hollow screamed. It crashed into the classroom, slaloming through the hallway, its voice echoing. "FOUND YOU! BULLY! BULLY! BULLY!"
Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest as the monster's tentacle passed right beside her and tripped. Oh no, no, no!
Something incredible happened. A silhouette appeared in the hallway and, with a fluid motion, sliced through the hollow.
The hollow let out a gut-wrenching scream before dissipating, as though its presence had never been real. Mariya froze, her backside pressed against the cold floor of the hallway, unable to tear her gaze away from the figure now standing in the middle of the corridor.
A tall woman, with silver hair carefully tied back in a ponytail. She held ascythe, elegant but clearly formidable. Her form-fitting black clothes exuded an aura of mastery and absolute confidence.
Mariya placed her hand against her heart, completely exhausted. The thing, the hollow, had exploded; it was gone. She couldn't shake the agitation from her body, utterly dazed.
Her head buzzed so much she thought she might faint. She trembled gently.
"My, my. What an interesting lady you are," purred the beautiful woman who had killed the creature.