[04:29:09 Before Winter Festival]
[04:29:08 Before Winter Festival]
[04:29:07 Before Winter Festival]
Fujiwara was looking at the countdown while he helped his mother set up a stand at the center of the village, where most were doing the same.
Thanks to the profits gained during the Winter Festival, The village was incredibly extensive. If Fujiwara had to estimate, it was around two or three kilometers in radius. Stands were practically spread everywhere around the place.
Numerous different aspects of the village came out during this time of year. Lanterns were set up, Carriages from different villages rode through the streets, and even a few fireworks were bursting from the sky. It was a beautiful sight to behold.
"Yoshiro," Fujiwara turned to Tomoko, giving a hum in response. "I think I have things from here. You can go look around for a while if you wish." Tomoko said, urging her son to enjoy his youth.
Fujiwara wanted to look around, sure. But it didn't help that things like a cursed spirit were roaming around, a problem he had to deal with. Visitors were already in town. It was clear that he'd only be wasting time by staying here. It was only for his mother that he bothered. It was the perfect opportunity to do this.
"Really? Thank you, Mother!" Fujiwara smiled at this and went off. "Just make sure you don't go off too far!" Tomoko yelled to her son, who was already off somewhere else. She sighed as her son evaded her vision. 'That boy… So fast for his age.'
Although it didn't seem like it to Tomoko, Fujiwara heard her. His senses had heightened to that extent a while ago. But if his mother ever knew, he wouldn't be able to get away with the classic excuse of "I didn't hear you" anymore.
As for why Fujiwara ran off so fast, he did it for three reasons.
One, so he could check for any signs of the cursed spirit.
Two, so he could quickly look for someone to give him a cursed tool.
And Three, so his mother couldn't catch him and prevent him from doing both one and two.
He was already a way through the village. He had been rushing to multiple set-up stands and looking through all their inventory, hoping to bump into a sorcerer or an item with at least a hint of cursed energy.
Fujiwara had grown the ability to sense cursed energy but he hadn't gained an idea of what cursed energy was meant to look like. Yoshiro's vision also improved to a strange extent. It's hard to explain his vision to the average person, so think of it like a high-definition telescope mixed with TV static. It allowed him to see a lot of things besides just cursed energy. He could even see a few new colors.
With that, Yoshiro didn't know if this was how Toji and Maki saw the world or if it was just him. It took him a while to get used to it. Later on, it leaned into being useful from time to time for miscellaneous things. Like spoiled foods having a certain kind of color around them.
But onto the topic of cursed energy, the substance was even more alien to him, as he saw nothing remotely like it. In the anime, it was depicted as a blue, fire-like aura with black strands emitting from it. In the manga, it looked like its shape easily varied from person to person. He wasn't too knowledgeable on how it'd look in real life.
Not to mention the fact that Gege Akutami was colorblind, so cursed energy really could be anything.
The solution he found for his overall kind of blindness to cursed energy was to ask a certain question to everyone at every stand.
The Question of, "Are you a Jujutsu Sorcerer?"
To understand the gravity of those words, you had to understand the time period that they were spoken. This was the Heian Era. Jujutsu was nigh normalized at this time. The idea of it to non-sorcerers was utterly mortifying. They all knew the horrors of Jujutsu and its users. It scared them beyond reason. Even child sorcerers were to be feared. So to Fujiwara, who asked such a question, was like saying, "Who's the toughest guy here?"
He didn't even know it, but Fujiwara was drawing attention to himself. And even though this attention was certain to bring him to what he was looking for, it was more than likely to bring problems with it.
The yield of his questioning varied the farther he went.
"I apologize, but I do not know a sorcerer near here."
"Sorry, I've never met a sorcerer! Please forgive me sir!"
"SORCERERS!!! NOOOOO!!!"
At some point, it simply descended into people running away the moment they saw him, with people even whispering behind his back.
Yoshiro had been running and asking people to no avail. He'd be lying if he said doubt hadn't welled up within himself. Doubt that he wouldn't be able to find his weapon or, better yet, a sorcerer in time. That he'd even be able to handle the cursed spirit in the first place.
He was still decently strong, but he wasn't at Yuji's level yet. He still had a ways to go for that. It made it even worse considering that he wasn't like Yuji yet, but he was about to fight a cursed spirit. Something he couldn't do without cursed energy.
To him, it just stressed the importance of finding a sorcerer or a weapon.
Come on... How hard is it to find a sorcerer in their damn golden age?
At least an hour passed. He made it through majority of the village. Talked to almost all of the people. Every man, every woman, every child. There was just a few left.
Yoshiro tapped someone's shoulder. As they turned around, he asked, albeit exasperated.
"Please… Are you… Are you a Jujutsu Sorcerer?"
...
Tomoko Fujiwara's POV
It's almost been an hour... I'm worried.
Tomoko was, from the moment Fujiwara was born, a protective mother. In even the most minute instances of danger, she was more than willing to get to action.
Even when her son developed his unusual physical power along with his almost uncanny ability for most others to not notice him, she still couldn't help but protect him.
Her words of allowing Fujiwara to go were her fighting every one of those instincts. To let him take care of himself like she knew he could.
Even so, watching her son go out into the world alone was scary to her.
She decided at this moment. She was already done setting up her stand. She didn't want to lose her son during the festival after all.
From her already set up stand, she began walking away from it. She'd hopefully come back within the next hour.
"Say…"
…
…
…
No… Him… It's him…
She turned her back slowly and a man stood right there at her stand, as if he simply appeared there. Ringing in at about a height of 6'3, in a black kimono with purple and dark green accents. He had a hair bun going with his naturally flowing grey hair. His muscular figure looked like it was beyond the likes of even cursed spirits. He continued facing the stand, not Tomoko herself, fear-stricken as she was. Her breathing growing more rapid by the moment.
"I haven't seen you in a while."
Tomoko considered calling for help. But her lips stood as motionless as the rest of her body. She could only bear witness to the next few actions.
CRUNCH.
Although she was expecting him to do something, his next move startled her. It both reminded her of just how dominant this man was that he could so casually face her like this and the jarring sounds that echoed the day she escaped him.
It seemed that man had grabbed an onion from the stand and bit into it. He went on to fully eat it, stem and all, as he continued talking.
"It seems you've been doing good work."
He turned and faced Tomoko. Her face wouldn't move. The mix of fear, agony, trauma, all of it. An acute sense of emotional hell raged within her upon gazing at this man.
It was at his touch that she started breaking into a sweat and almost tears, his hand brushing over her cheek and raising her head to look at him in his mismatched eyes. One oozing sinister green, with the other coming in with a milky gray, a scar coming over it and seemingly stretching through the rest of his body.
"I almost believed you were running from me."
"Wh-How are you… Here?"
Those were the only few words she could muster. She prayed she would never have to see this person again. Yet here he was. Right in front of her.
"You knew that lesser, immortal whore wasn't going to stop me. You aren't that spineless."
With an almost iron-vice grip, he clasped her face with his left hand that had so callously brushed over her face earlier.
"So if you could,"
A smile finally crept onto his face. A melancholically nostalgic, overzealous smile.
"Tell me, Tomoko. Where is the child?"
That was the last time Tomoko Fujiwara ever hoped.
Hope not for herself. But for the great tradgedy she brought upon these people she would call friends and family.
And to her son, the one she would never lay eyes on again.