I stared at the pathetic collection of instant noodles and discount vegetables in my basket, wondering if this was rock bottom.
The fluorescent lights of the grocery store buzzed overhead, casting a sickly pallor over the clearance aisle. I weighed a slightly bruised apple in my hand, debating whether the savings were worth the risk of food poisoning. My stomach growled, making the decision for me.
As I shuffled towards the checkout, my mind wandered to the offer that had been haunting me for days. Become a jujutsu sorcerer, they said. Use your cursed energy for good, they said. As if I gave a damn about good or evil. All I cared about was survival, and right now, that meant choosing between some equally unappealing options.
Option one: embrace my so-called "destiny" as a sorcerer, risking life and limb to fight monstrous spirits for a paycheck that might not even cover my rent.
Option two: leverage my looks and charm to become a host, spending my nights pouring drinks and stroking egos for bored housewives with more money than sense.
Option three: Continue doing underground fights making other people rich off of my fights.
Neither exactly screamed "dream job," but beggars couldn't be choosers. I handed over a handful of crumpled bills to the bored cashier, pointedly ignoring her pitying look as she bagged my meager haul.
Outside, the late afternoon sun was sinking behind the city's skyline, casting long shadows across the streets. I ducked into a narrow alley, a habit born from years of watching my back. It was empty, save for a few overflowing trash cans and a mangy cat that hissed at my approach.
"Well, well, well. Fancy meeting you here, Akuma-kun."
I whirled around, cursing under my breath. There, leaning casually against the alley wall as if he'd materialized from thin air, was Satoru Gojo. His trademark blindfold and infuriating smirk were firmly in place.
"What the—" I bit back the rest of my startled exclamation, forcing my face into a neutral mask. "Gojo. To what do I owe the... pleasure?"
He pushed off the wall, hands in his pockets, radiating an aura of casual power that set my teeth on edge. "Oh, just out for a stroll. Thought I'd check in on my favorite potential student."
My eyes narrowed. "You stalked me."
"Stalked is such an ugly word," Gojo said, waving a hand dismissively. "I prefer to think of it as... a fortuitous encounter."
"Right," I drawled, shifting my grocery bag to my other hand. "And I'm sure it's pure coincidence that you just happened to be in this exact alley at this exact moment."
Gojo's grin widened. "Exactly! See, we understand each other already." His tone sobered slightly. "But since we're here, have you given any more thought to my offer?"
I tensed, my grip tightening on the bag. "I've... considered it."
"And?" Gojo pressed, taking a step closer. I fought the urge to back away.
"And I'm still weighing my options," I said carefully. "It's not a decision to be made lightly."
Gojo nodded, his expression unreadable behind that damned blindfold. "Of course, of course. But you know, I've been doing some thinking of my own."
I raised an eyebrow, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"You see," Gojo continued, his tone casual, "I've been looking into some construction projects lately. Fascinating stuff, really. Did you know there's a whole science to designing buildings that can withstand supernatural forces?"
I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "What are you getting at, Gojo?"
He grinned, all teeth. "Well, I couldn't help but notice that the Sakura Home for Children could use some... upgrades. Structurally speaking, of course."
"What about it?"
"Oh, nothing much. Just thinking it might be nice if they had a brand new building. State-of-the-art facilities, top-notch security systems. The works."
I narrowed my eyes, suspicion gnawing at me. "And let me guess, you'd be willing to foot the bill for this little renovation project? Just like that?"
Gojo shrugged. "Well, not just like that. There would be one tiny condition."
Of course there was. I crossed my arms, grocery bag dangling forgotten at my side. "And what might that be?"
"Simple," Gojo said, his smile taking on a predatory edge. "You stay on as a jujutsu sorcerer until you surpass me."
"You're out of your mind."
"Am I?" Gojo countered. "I thought you'd appreciate the challenge. Unless... you don't think you're up to it?"
The laughter died in my throat as I realized he wasn't joking. The taunt hit its mark, pride warring with practicality in my chest. I forced myself to take a breath, to think it through. A new building for the orphanage would mean better living conditions, more resources, a chance for those kids to have the childhood I never did. But the price...
"You're asking me to give up everything I've built," I said slowly. "My independence, my freedom."
"I'm asking you to build something greater," Gojo countered. "To become something greater."
I closed my eyes, memories flashing through my mind. Sister Maria's kind face. Izumi's gap-toothed smile. The cramped, drafty rooms of the orphanage. My fists clenched at my sides.
"And if I refuse?"
"Then you walk away. No hard feelings. But no new building either."
"And if I agree? What's to stop you from sandbagging, dragging this out indefinitely?"
Gojo's smile widened. "Now you're thinking like a true jujutsu sorcerer. But don't worry, I give you my word. When—if—you surpass me, you'll know it. And so will everyone else."
I mulled it over for another long moment, weighing the risks against the potential rewards. In the end, there was really only one choice.
"Alright," I said, extending my hand. "You've got yourself a deal."
Gojo clasped my hand, and immediately I felt a surge of cursed energy unlike anything I'd experienced before. It was like being caught in the eye of a hurricane, raw power swirling around us, threatening to sweep me away. I gritted my teeth, forcing my own energy to push back, refusing to be overwhelmed.
After what felt like an eternity, Gojo released my hand. I stumbled back a step, trying not to show how rattled I was.
"Well then," Gojo said, his tone light as if we'd just agreed to grab coffee. "Consider it done. I'll have the paperwork drawn up by morning."
And with that, he turned and strolled out of the alley, whistling a jaunty tune. I watched him go, my mind still reeling from what had just transpired.
What the hell had I gotten myself into?
I looked down at my bag of groceries, the contents suddenly seeming even more pitiful than before. One last meal of instant ramen and bruised fruit before diving headfirst into the world of jujutsu sorcery.
As I made my way home, the weight of my decision settled over me like a shroud. I'd just signed away my future on a gamble, betting everything on my ability to somehow surpass a man who seemed more force of nature than human.
But beneath the anxiety and doubt, there was something else. For the first time in years, I had a clear goal, a mountain to climb.
Back at the apartment, I tossed another shirt into my duffel bag, my movements mechanical and distracted. The bare walls of my cramped apartment seemed to close in on me, years of memories condensed into a few measly boxes.
My hand brushed against something cool and smooth. I pulled out a framed photograph, my breath catching in my throat. It was a picture of Sister Maria and the kids at St. Mary's, taken a few days before I left the orphanage for good.
My throat tightened. I'd made a deal with the devil, and for what? A chance to protect them? Or was I just fooling myself, using them as an excuse to chase power?
I shoved the photo into my bag, pushing the doubts aside. What was done was done.
A sharp knock at the door jolted me from my thoughts. I tensed, cursing myself for getting distracted. No one should know I was here.
"Akuma Kantaro?" a muffled voice called. "This is Satoru Gojo. I know you're in there."
I rolled my eyes. Of course it was him. I should have known he wouldn't give me a moment's peace.
"It's open," I called, not bothering to move.
The door swung open, revealing Gojo in all his blindfolded glory. He sauntered in, hands in his pockets, that infuriating smirk plastered on his face.
"Nice place," he said, glancing around the bare apartment. "Very... minimalist."
"What do you want, Gojo?" I asked, crossing my arms. "I thought we were meeting in the morning."
He grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe. "How about a little field trip? Consider it your first unofficial mission."
"Sure," I said, shrugging. "Why not?"
I followed Gojo through the bustling streets of Tokyo, my duffel bag slung over my shoulder. The neon lights and constant hum of the city felt different tonight, like I was seeing it all for the last time.
"So, why are we taking the bullet train?" I asked as we approached the station. "Couldn't you just teleport us there like you did before?"
Gojo chuckled. "Where's the fun in that? Besides, if I teleported us, we wouldn't have time for a proper chat."
We boarded the train, finding seats away from the other passengers. As the cityscape blurred outside the window, Gojo turned to me, his expression unreadable behind that blindfold.
"So, Akuma," he began, leaning forward. "I've been wondering. How is it that you can control your cursed energy so well without any formal training?"
I shrugged. "It just... comes naturally, I guess."
"Interesting," Gojo mused. "And what about your cursed technique?"
I hesitated, trying to find the right words. "I call it Kinetic Charge. it basically allows me to manipulate kinetic energy, momentum, and probability in relation to motion. In its base state, I can take the potential energy stored in an object and convert it to kinetic energy."
Gojo nodded, his interest piqued. "Impressive. And you figured all this out on your own?"
"Yeah," I admitted. "I mean, I've always been able to sense the energy, even as a kid."
"Fascinating," Gojo murmured. "You're full of surprises, Akuma Kantaro."
"So what's the deal with this school anyway?" I asked. "What am I actually signing up for here?"
Gojo turned, cocking his head. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, what's the catch?" I pressed. "Power like this doesn't come free. So what's the tradeoff?"
Gojo laughed. "Straight to the point, huh? I like that." He leaned forward, voice lowering. "Let's just say the jujutsu world isn't all fun and games. As a sorcerer, you'll be expected to take on some...unsavory tasks."
"Unsavory how?"
"Oh, nothing you can't handle," Gojo said lightly. "Just the usual cursed spirit clean-up duty. Some reconnaissance work. Maybe the occasional undercover mission." He winked. "Don't worry, you'll be properly trained."
"Here." Gojo pulled a photo from his pocket, handing it to me. "A little preview of what we're hunting tonight."
I took the photo, eyes widening. It showed a mummified finger, its decayed flesh marked with an intricate red symbol. Dark energy seemed to radiate from the image itself.
"What is this thing?" I asked quietly.
"A cursed object." Gojo's voice was grim. "One of twenty, belonging to an ancient and powerful cursed spirit."
I stared at the photo, unable to tear my eyes away.
"Think you can handle it?" Gojo asked.
I met his gaze evenly. "I guess we'll find out."
The train slowed as we pulled into Sendai station. This was it. No going back now. I handed the photo back to Gojo and stood, slinging my duffel bag over my shoulder.
"Showtime," Gojo said with a grin, clapping me on the back. "Let's go bag us a cursed finger."
I followed Gojo through the crowded streets of Sendai, my eyes darting around for any sign of danger. The weight of our mission hung heavy in the air, but Gojo seemed completely at ease, whistling as he walked.
Suddenly, he veered off course, making a beeline for a small stand tucked between two larger shops. The sweet scent of mochi wafted towards us, making my stomach growl despite the tension.
"Ah, perfect timing!" Gojo exclaimed, his face lighting up like a kid in a candy store. "Nothing like a pre-mission snack to get the blood pumping."
I raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? We're here to hunt down a cursed object, and you want to stop for sweets?"
Gojo just grinned, already fishing out his wallet. "Life's too short not to enjoy the little things, Akuma. Besides, Kikufuku Mochi is famous around here."
He turned to the vendor, ordering a variety of flavors. As the old woman behind the counter began packing up his selections, Gojo glanced back at me.
"Want some? They've got some great seasonal flavors."
"I could go for some mango mochi, I guess."
I watched in bewilderment as Gojo devoured his mochi with childlike glee. How could he be so carefree when we were about to hunt down a dangerous cursed object?
"Come on," he said, swallowing his last bite. "Time to get to work."
He led me down a narrow alley, away from the bustling main street. Once we were out of sight, he placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Hold on tight," he warned with a grin.
Before I could respond, the world blurred around us. My stomach lurched as we seemed to fall through space itself. In an instant, we were standing on the roof of what looked like a school building.
I stumbled, trying to regain my balance.
Before I could ask why teleport here, a shout caught my attention.
"Stay right where you are! You're no longer human!"