Toji didn't sleep a damn minute that night. His green eyes locked onto his wife's sleeping form beside him, her breaths slow and steady while his thoughts spiraled out of control.
How could he not be losing his mind?
His wife was dying—only months left, maybe even weeks if fate decided to be extra cruel.
He'd finally thought he'd gotten his fairytale happy ending, but now it felt like some twisted joke was being played on him. Karma was here to collect. And fuckin' hell, he knew he deserved it. Even after he broke from the Zenin Clan, he'd still been a scumbag.
Killing for money? Yeah, that was what he was damn good at.
Fuck, the only hobby he really kept was a little gambling at the pachinko parlor before he went home. And before he married her? He'd fucking up with other people's feelings and bodies, taking what he could for his own good—money, attention, anything they were willing to give.
Maybe this was just his fate.
No fairytale happy ending for Toji, even after he clawed his way out of the Zenin Clan. Felt like Fate had a sick sense of humor, always crushing any scrap of hope he managed to cling to.
He was just a damn circus monkey dancing for Fate's amusement.
His burner phone started buzzing, and he picked it up, more out of habit than urgency.
"The. fuck. Do. You. Want?"
"Easy, cowboy. You sound grumpy. What happened, some asshole try to scam you?" Shi Woo's voice came through, sounding amused.
Toji just grumbled in response.
"Anyway... you better start packing. The Elders are sending some of their little mouses to sweep Sendai tomorrow morning. You'll need to find somewhere else to lay low for a bit, maybe a week or so, till all this shit you stirred up at the hospital dies down. And don't try to contact me, either."
Before Toji could even snap back, the line went dead. He wanted to curse his friend out, but considering the fallout, he didn't have the energy.
Thanks to Shi Woo's antics, he'd gone and caused mayhem at the hospital, and now he had to deal with the consequences. If what Shi Woo said was right, by 9 a.m., the city would be crawling with the Jujutsu Elders and Zenin Clan subordinates.
He glanced at the clock.
It's nearly 4 a.m.
There was still a little time. He let his gaze sweep around the apartment, took a breath, and started packing.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Earthquake Causes Collapse of Sendai Government Hospital; No Casualties Reported
Sendai, June 23, 2001 — An unexpected earthquake struck the Sendai area early Saturday, causing the collapse of the city's main government hospital and alarming residents nationwide. The collapse has been attributed to the building's aging infrastructure, which is nearly five decades old, along with a CO2 gas leak from the ground believed to have triggered a minor seismic tremor coinciding with the incident.
Emergency responders confirmed that, despite 90% of the hospital structure being destroyed, all patients and staff were evacuated in time. Personnel worked together to assist those in need, ensuring a safe exit from the premises. Authorities reported that, fortunately, there were no fatalities or serious injuries as a result of the collapse.
...
Read More
--d.c.h.j.y--
The morning after the incident, around six hours later, the ruins of the hospital in Sendai City were swarmed with people. Because of the hospital collapse, many people who worked in and around the building, including office workers like Jin, were given mass leave. As a result, a lot of shops, malls, and even 7/11 stores closed down for a few days.
Some were ordinary citizens looking confused after hearing the news, while others were desperately searching for relatives who might've been patients.
There were tearful reunions too—people hugging their loved ones who survived.
Local police, the SAR team, firefighters, and even journalists crowded the scene, with helicopters circling above to report the story.
"We're live at the scene where Sendai City's well-known hospital collapsed at 1 AM," the reporter announced. "I'm here with one of the nurses from the hospital, a survivor of this incident. Ma'am, can you tell us your name?"
"Chen Meili," the nurse replied with a smile to the camera.
"Alright, Chen-san. Can you tell us what happened when the earthquake hit? Did you notice anything unusual before it struck?"
" Well, before the earthquake, a lot of us hospital staff often got headaches. It might've been from lack of sleep and exhaustion. But, weirdly enough, none of us were sick that night. Even those who usually had headaches felt fine. The patients in the ICU were a bit more stable too. So, when the earthquake hit, we and the patients managed to get out and evacuate quickly," Nurse Chen explained.
"That must've been terrifying, right, Chen-san?"
" Absolutely! Some people did panic and fell while evacuating! But there were volunteers and others who rushed in to help them. No one got trampled, thankfully."
"If I may ask, who were the volunteers who helped people? Do you remember anything about how they looked?"
"Oh my... urmm...Okay, I actually really don't remember that," Nurse Chen admitted with a sheepish laugh.
"I mean, i was panicking too! When I got out of the hospital, I just noticed there were volunteers—probably people from around the area who happened to be nearby. They went straight into the building and helped with the evacuation."
"You mentioned earlier that before the earthquake, hospital staff often complained of sudden headaches and back pain, which mysteriously disappeared the day before. Do you think it could've been some sort of mystical sign warning of something bad?"
Nurse Chen chuckled.
"Mystical things? No, No, I personally don't believe in that. Honestly, I think it's just because we'd gotten paid the night before. Our debts were cleared, and we had some extra cash to eat good food for next couple days. So, everyone was just more relaxed!" She grinned, and even the reporter around her laughed softly.
"You might be right, Chen-san! Paydays always reduce stress—especially mine! It's hard to worry when your wallet is doing the happy dance!"
"Yup, exactly! Happy wallet, happy life,"
"Alright, Thank you so much for taking the time to talk to me this morning. Stay healthy, Nurse-Chen!"
The camera panned back to the reporter.
"We've just received word that in a few minutes, the Mayor of Sendai, Getou Masakazu-San, will be giving a live speech near the hospital ruins. Before we cover that, let's return to the studio."
.
.
.
.
.
Natsuto strolled casually down the city sidewalk, the sounds of the bustling streets blending into the background.
As he walked, he pulled up the message his subordinates had sent him a few hours earlier. The rumors was unsettling: the hospital's collapse wasn't just an earthquake.
It turned out to be the aftermath of a serious fight between two unknown curse users—or maybe even two rival groups—who had gone at it near the hospital.
Most folks in the underworld who caught wind of this were quick to assume it was all about those two curse users.
After all, no one had reported any groups of curse users causing trouble recently. The last big meeting had taken place in Tokyo, and honestly, many of these underworld factions preferred bigger cities for their headquarters.
The reasoning was pretty straightforward: bigger cities meant more jobs from rich clients.
Plus, Sendai had a reputation for being a bit boring, filled with older folks and lacking a lively nightlife or any kind red district. With only a few bars and pachinko joints, it was way too peaceful for the likes of curse users.
If there really had been a brawl between two camps in Sendai, you'd think the word would have spread like wildfire.
The general consensus was that this fight was totally spontaneous, catching everyone off guard. But given the destruction left behind, it was clear that both curse users were no pushovers or beginners.
Adding to the mystery, there were whispers that the day before the fight, a bunch of grade 3 and grade 4 cursed spirits had bolted from the city, heading to a nearby town.
That kind of mass exodus was a big deal.
That's also probably why there so little of 3rd & 4th Cursed Spirits wandering around.
No ordinary curse users could create that kind of panic and make weaker spirits run for their lives like that. If either of them had been with the Jujutsu Sect, they would definitely be considered Special Grade Sorcerers.
Only a handful of curse users outside the Jujutsu Sect could even come close to that level of power, and Natsuto knew he was one of them.
Rumors were swirling around town that the two curse users spotted recently were Stray Special Grade Sorcerers from other countries.
Some locals speculated that it was the work of the Jujutsu Sect elders' subordinates, who might be clashing over control of their territory in Sendai City.
Others whispered that it was a long-standing feud between the Kusuma families (the ex-Jujutsu Sect Clan), each holding grudges that ran deep.
Then there were the more dramatic theories—some claimed that Ryoumen Sukuna had returned after a thousand years of being sealed away, ready to unleash chaos on Japan and the entire world.
As Natsuto walked down the quiet sidewalk, he couldn't help but overhear snippets of these conversations. People were anxious, their imaginations running wild with every new rumor. He shook his head, trying to push the thoughts aside.
Finally, he reached his café, a cozy little spot that felt like a refuge from the chaos outside. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, taking a deep breath of the familiar aroma of coffee and pastries.
Thankfully, the café was located far from the hospital, so the streets were calm, with no pedestrians in sight.
Natsuto rolled up his sleeves, ready to get to work.
He grabbed a mop and started tidying up the floor, the rhythmic swish of the mop providing a comforting backdrop to his thoughts. He wiped down the windows, letting in the soft morning light, and organized the items on the tables.
The files on his desk were a different story—papers scattered everywhere, a chaotic reminder of the busy days he often had.
As Natsuto cleaned, his thoughts drifted back to his future wife. He could only visit her home for a few days, and it wasn't because he didn't want to be there. In fact, he yearned to stay and care for his heavily pregnant wife alongside his future father-in-law. But the villagers made it so fuckin' complicated.
They held a harsh view of a girl who got pregnant outside of marriage, labeling her as cheap and allowing the unmarried men in the village to treat her poorly and in some old story they'll rape the girl until she died and didn't get any serious consequences.
That's why his future wife preferred to stay home, and whenever she did venture out, she wore loose clothing to hide her growing belly. Natsuto could picture her, trying to blend in, her eyes downcast, avoiding the whispers of the villagers that trying talk to her.
Meanwhile, her father sometimes went to the garden to pick fresh vegetables and fruits for her, doing his best to ensure she had nutritious meals.
You might wonder why they didn't just leave the village and live with him.
It wasn't that they didn't want to; they longed for a better life. But his fiancée's family was struggling financially, with no relatives or connections in the city.
They are afraid to go outside their village.
The village was all they knew, and the thought of the outside world was daunting.
There were no schools or places to learn nearby, leaving many villagers, including his future wife and her father, unable to read. They could only count to twenty, and their currency was barter—trading crops from their gardens instead of using yen.
The main reason they stayed, though, was safety.
Outside the village lay a vast forest, stretching for twenty kilometers (12,4 mill), filled with steep, rocky paths and cursed spirits lurking within.
Strangely enough, those spirits never entered the village, leaving the villagers safe for now.
Natsuto felt a mix of relief and unease about that; it was odd, but he was grateful his future wife and her father were unharmed.
He had a plan to help them escape after his wife gave birth. It would be safer that way; after all, it wasn't good for a pregnant woman to navigate a forest full of cursed spirits.
Even though Natsuto was strong enough to handle Special Grade Cursed Spirits, he couldn't risk their lives.
They were precious to him, and he would do anything to protect them, even if it meant dealing with the villagers he despised.
His first public house would be finished soon, possibly around the same time his wife gave birth. The thought of them living together as a family brought a smile to his face. He couldn't wait to see his future daughter's face, to hold her in his arms.
After cleaning up the café, Natsuto gathered the trash that had piled up in the kitchen, stuffing it into a large plastic bag. The familiar sounds of clinking dishes and the hum of the refrigerator faded as he walked to the back of the café.
The sun was beginning to rise, casting a warm glow, but a sudden sharp smell made him pause.
Fresh blood.
Instinct kicked in, sending a wave of anxiety through him. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.
' Where is that coming from?' he wondered, sniffing the air, his heart racing.
' It's coming from inside the trash bin,'
Natsuto pulled out his smallest cursed weapon, a knife-like tool, from a hidden pocket in his apron. He crept closer to the trash bin, cold sweat trickling down his temples as the scent of blood grew stronger. With a cautious hand, he slowly lifted the lid, ready to confront whatever cursed spirit might be lurking inside.
To his shock, he found a woman in a hospital gown, sound asleep and cradling a baby in her arms. His heart raced with relief as he quickly checked their pulses, feeling the steady beats beneath his fingers.
"W-who... a-a-are...?" the woman mumbled, her voice thick with confusion as her eyes fluttered open.
"Miss, you passed out in my trash can," Natsuto said gently, trying to keep his voice calm despite the chaos in his mind. "You and your baby can't stay here. You both need to go to the hospital."
"PLEASE NO! No hospital!" Panic flashed in her eyes as she clutched his arm tightly.
"P-please! They're everywhere! You can't let them see me or my baby! T-they will take him from me!"
Natsuto felt a surge of sympathy for her fear. "I understand, but you need help. You're injured, and so is your baby. Please, just let me help you."
The woman shook her head vigorously, tears glistening in her eyes.
"You don't understand! They'll take him! I can't let them take him!"
"Okay, okay! I promise, I won't let anyone take you or your baby," he said, trying to sound reassuring. "But you have to get out of this trash bin. It's not safe or clean for either of you."
She hesitated, her grip loosening slightly as she looked around, still visibly shaken.
"I... I don't know if I can trust you."
Natsuto took a step back, giving her space.
"I get it. It's scary. But I'm just a café owner. I want to help. You can trust me."
After a moment, she nodded slowly, still looking uncertain.
"Okay... j-just... d-don't let them see us."
"Of course," he said, relief washing over him. "Let's get you both out of here."
With careful hands, he helped her sit up, then gently lifted her and the baby out of the trash bin. As he set them down on the floor of his private office, he noticed her feet were bloody and cut from the glass shards.
"Shit! Your feet!" he kneeling down to examine her injuries.
"How did this happen?"
"I... I was running," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"Th-the hospital... it just collapse-..there glasess everywhere...I didn't know where to go.... I just wanted to keep him safe."
"You're safe here, I promise. I'll take care of you both." He moved quickly to grab some clean cloths and a first aid kit.
"Just hang on for a moment, okay? I'll clean your wounds."
"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
As he cleaned her feet, he glanced up at her face.
"What's your name?"
"Reiko," she replied, her eyes softening slightly as she watched him.
"And this is my son, Kokichi."
"Reiko-san," he repeated, feeling the weight of her situation.
"I'm Natsuto. I know this day has been rough, but you're safe now. I'll do everything I can to help you."
Tears brimmed in her eyes as she looked at her baby.
"I just want to keep him safe."
"I understand," he said softly, finishing up the bandaging. "We'll figure this out together. You're not alone anymore."
As he wrapped the last bandage around her foot, he noticed her face growing paler.
"Reiko-san? Are you feeling okay?"
"I... I'm just a bit dizzy," she admitted, her voice fading.
"Hey, just breathe," he urged, concern creeping into his tone. "You've lost a lot of blood. You need to rest."
But before he could react, her eyes rolled back, and she slumped to the side, unconscious.
"Reiko-san!" Natsuto shouted, panic surging through him. He quickly checked her pulse again, relief flooding back as he felt it steady beneath his fingers. But he knew he had to act fast.
"This day can't get any weirder," he muttered to himself. He grabbed his phone, ready to call for help.
"Hello, Shizuka-san. I need your help. It's urgent."
.
.
.
.
.
Naoya checked his market shopping list again to make sure he had all the ingredients and spices needed for cooking.
"Scallions, check. Chilies, Basil, Spinach, Chicken eggs, Pineapple, check. Mango, Cooking oil, Garlic, Shallots, Ginger, Tea leaves, Ground coffee, ... I think I have everything. But wait, something feels off. What am I missing?" He paused, then slapped his forehead.
"Oh right! I still need to pick up the bread order!"
He remembered that Kushina had placed the bread order a few days ago. With that thought in mind, he headed from the village market to the edge of Yamatsuki village (that's name of their village), where a popular bakery served all the villagers and visitors alike.
If someone had told Naoya three weeks ago, right after he escaped from the Zenin Clan members chasing him, that he would meet a strange non-jujutsu family, live with them, and willingly do lowly jobs like a servant, he would have laughed in their face.
The old Naoya would have at least punched that person until their cheeks turned blue.
As the heir of the Zenin Clan, he never would have considered doing the kind of work that servant girls and commoners did. Three weeks ago, he would have outright refused to even think about it.
But now, Naoya was feeling a bit more considerate. He was trying to tone down his ego and speak more like a regular person.
He definitely didn't want to get spanked by the Red Head and the Old Man again for yelling at store vendors who took too long to serve him. Those spankings hurt so much he had to sit on frozen peas afterward. Plus, he had finally learned what it felt like to be starving on the road while being hunted by assassins.
Ugh, just thinking about having to sleep near a couple of creepy homeless people and using public restrooms made him want to gag.
Yeah, you could say he was turning over a new leaf, even if he still wanted to yell at people for being so goddamn stupid.
For now, he was managing to keep it in check.
Naoya entered the bakery, where other residents of Yamatsuki village and a family of tourists were also shopping for bread. He walked up to the cashier counter and greeted the shop owner.
"Matteo-san, good morning," Naoya greeted.
A man in his thirties, with brown hair and an Italian-looking face, was wearing an apron dusted with flour. He looked at Naoya and replied in Japanese, but with a thick Italian accent.
"Naoya! Come! Come! Do you want to pick up Kushina's bread order?"
"Yes, she can't come here herself, so I thought I'd get it for her," Naoya said, forcing a slightly fake smile. Anyone who knew him well could probably tell he was lying, but this little trick he'd learned last week usually worked on older folks who had a soft spot for kids. Matteo pinched Naoya's cheeks with both hands.
"Ugh, so cute! You remind me of my little nephew back in Italy! He had chubby cheeks just like yours!"
"Oh, you must miss him a lot, Matteo-san."
"I do miss my family, that's for sure. I hope they miss me too."
"Don't worry, Matteo-san. You still have your family here. Besides, if your Italian family forgets you, we'll always remember you,"
"Oh? And why's that?"
"Because you make the best bread ever," Naoya replied with a practiced smile, delivering the kind of line any kid actor would use to win over an adult.
"Oh! You're so funny! Looks like your bread order is ready! Wait here, Uncle will grab it from the back! In the meantime, take one of the leftover breads!"
"Eh, is that okay, Matteo-san? My shopping money is all gone; I can't buy more bread," Naoya said, pretending to panic as he rummaged through his shirt and pants pockets.
"It's fine! Just take it, it's free!" Matteo insisted, making Naoya jump with joy inside his heart. His act as a helpless child had finally paid off.
He headed straight for the display case where the two most popular breads were showcased: the Garlic Butter Bread and the Chocolate Croissant.
Hands down, they were the best treats he'd ever tasted.
Naoya had enjoyed dishes from famous chefs for eight years as the heir to the Zenin clan, but nothing could compete with Matteo's creations.
However, it seemed the chocolate croissants were sold out. Only one lonely garlic butter bread remained.
Without hesitation, Naoya reached for it—only to feel another hand grabbing the same bread.
His eyes snapped to the offender: a boy about his age, with a classic "Russian emo" look—blond bangs, pale skin, and an outfit that screamed " nerd-chic." The boy glared at him, eyes sharper than broken glass.
"Could you kindly let go? I saw it first," Blondie said, tugging the bread a tad closer.
"Maybe if you weren't half-blind," Naoya shot back with a smirk.
"Excuse me? Blind?"
"Yeah, because with that tragic emo bang, there's no way you saw my hand on this first."
Naoya yanked the bread his way, but Blondie wasn't backing down. He shot back, eyes narrowing.
"I've been waiting here for half an hour. My entire family queued up just to get in. So this is mine."
" Oh, please. I didn't see a rulebook that said 'longer wait = bread rights.' You're making things up."
"It's called common sense!"
"More like nonsense."
"Is not!"
"Is too!"
They bickered like two kids over the last piece of candy, tugging at the bread in a ridiculous show of bakery-based combat. As they grappled, Naoya's attention flicked to the kitchen. Matteo appeared with a fresh tray of steaming bread.
An idea formed.
Naoya loosened his grip, letting Blondie yank the bread free. The sudden release sent Naoya sprawling dramatically onto the floor.
" Kid! Are you okay?!" Matteo rushed over, concern etched on his face as he helped Naoya up.
"What happened here?! Nanami Tobias Kento, did you hurt him?!" came an accusing voice—Blondie's mom, every bit the dramatic European matriarch.
" What?! No! He fell by himself!" Blondie stammered, clearly not ready for this public trial. His dad, a serious-looking Japanese man with glasses, stepped forward.
"Son, apologize. Regardless, your actions led to this."
"But,father—"
"It's fine," Naoya interjected with a disarming smile. "Honestly, I'm at fault. I tried to take his bread. We argued. I fell. He's been waiting longer than me; he deserves it."
The boy's mother hovered like a hawk. "Are you sure? Is your back okay? Should we call a doctor?"
Naoya chuckled and offered a breezy, totally-not-in-pain smile.
"Just a scratch, really. No doctor needed."
Matteo cut in, grinning. "No need for drama, folks! Naoya, I saved you a couple garlic butter breads and some chocolate croissants. Send my regards to Kushina Belle, will ya?"
"Really?! Thanks, Matteo—er, Uncle Matteo!" Naoya beamed, bowing repeatedly.
"Take care, kid!"
Walking out, Naoya didn't miss the chance to shoot Blondie a smug grin. When no one else was looking, he mouthed two words:
"I win."
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Naoya savored every bite of his victory spoils on the way home. The garlic butter bread was heaven, the chocolate croissant a sweet cloud of bliss.
Nothing, could ruin his mood.
That was until he turned the corner and spotted Toji lounging on the porch, playing poker with Old Man Wasuke. Coins and a sake bottle littered the table—a scene that screamed trouble.
"Sup, brat,"
'Fuck my life,'
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
How do you feel about this chapter? Rate it from 5 to 20 and share your thoughts!
I really love reading all kinds of comments, even if they're critical—just keep it respectful, please!
Your feedback gives me the energy and motivation to keep writing this fanfic. Can't wait to hear from you!