Chapter 1 — Lingering Malice
Asphalt still warm from the day. A vending sign flickered overhead.
Shun dragged his steps down the empty street, muttering to himself:
Curses? No… people are curses. Sorcerers, saviors—they're rot in robes. They should be exorcised first.
A crunch of gravel behind him.
"Hey! Stop there—" a ragged voice called.
Shun's eyes slid sideways, cold. The pavement split. A shadowed coil rose—smoke and scale twisting into the shape of a dragon. Jaws clamped shut with a wet crunch, and the man was gone.
"Disgusting," Shun breathed. "You're the real curse."
---
The 11-o'clock sun bleached the little station to bone. Dust swirled lazily across cracked tiles.
The train sighed open. Only one boy stepped out—white hair washed silver by light, dull blue eyes tracing the silent platform. Damp shirt beneath a black shrug.
"Why did you betray us…" Soya murmured, words lost to the breeze.
A rasp behind him—hands clawing from warped planks. A half-formed curse dragged its torso forward, leaving streaks of black sludge.
Soya didn't move.
Blood bloomed above the creature in a sudden crimson halo.
"Curse Technique: Blood Cage," a calm voice whispered.
Filaments constricted; bones cracked like dry twigs. The spirit shredded to mist.
Noritoshi Kamo descended the carriage steps, long hair tied back, navy robes brushing the rail.
"Be aware of your surroundings, Soya. You drift too deep inside your head."
Soya blinked, dazed. "Huh?"
Noritoshi smirked. "Exactly. Didn't even hear me." He leaned on the rail. "I spoke to Principal Gakuganji—he says a year after Sukuna's fall, half the faculty's still crippled by cursed recoil. Field sorcerers like us get to mop up Kenjaku's leftovers."
Soya steadied his voice. "And Shun?"
"'Handle him'—that's what Gakuganji claims. Meanwhile, ten more jujutsu sorcerers are dead by his hand."
Soya's fists curled. "He… shouldn't be doing that."
The silence stretched. Heat shimmered off the tracks.
Then Noritoshi's stomach growled loud enough to startle a sparrow from the roof.
"…Okay," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I can't strategize on an empty stomach. Let's find food before this whole cursed wasteland feels even heavier."
A corner of Soya's mouth twitched. "Fine. Lead the way."
---
They left the station, narrow streets baking under late-morning glare. A sudden shuffle of feet behind—Soya spun, dagger half-drawn.
A drunk staggered past, muttering about the heat, oblivious.
Noritoshi barked a laugh. "Easy, killer. I said 'be aware,' not 'cut down civilians.'"
Soya sheathed the blade, heat creeping up his ears. "Stop it, senpai. You look ridiculous."
Noritoshi widened his eyes in mock innocence. "Ridiculous? Am I really?"
Soya groaned, palming his forehead. "Why do I even talk to you?"
Their footsteps faded into the hushed street. A breeze stirred litter across the tracks—just enough to reveal a faint smear of black curse-residue where the drunk had stumbled.
Chapter 1: Lingering Malice, ends.
Chapter 2, on Saturday 13th Sep 2025 at 9pm.