𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗔𝗚𝗘

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 - SORRY

I was never meant to be a shaman — it wasn't in my blood. I was normal student, average height and grades, kind but crazy friends, a loving family, and a pretty boring life outside of school. That was my place. No debate or argument could prove me wrong because that's how my life was originally set out to be. It didn't make sense that I'd erupt with cursed power and be a large target for devilish entities, at least not to me.

Things haven't been making sense, which I was told was alright — I was starting live differently, there was no doubt some confusion would catch up to me — but I wasn't entirely confused about the topic. I just wanted to know why I had to change my life. I lost a lot more than I would've if it hadn't been for the confusion and doubt I was put through. I wonder why the people shamans deem 'normal' are kept separate. Why is there a fine line between secret knowledge and obliviousness that can't be crossed? Why was it all kept a secret?

If everyone knew wouldn't that be easier? If people had the awareness and knew what to avoid and how to avoid it wouldn't the amount of uncertain deaths suffice? Why were shamans going through the struggle of keeping it a on the down-low? I know well this world is scary, but it exists and I think an option should too. What if there weren't any non-shamans.

"(Y/N)"

I hummed and brought myself from my thoughts, retrieving myself from the depths of my mind, I followed my own confirmation (that I had been listening) with my eyes darting back up to give my attention to the recognizable voice. "You look a little pale, and I doubt it's from blood loss... what's on your mind." Ieiri would check-up on her patients often. She would ask simple questions and take note of how people acted or spoke — she was very observant. I knew her routine quite well, asking a few questions for physical health then mental health. Even if she didn't show it, wearing bored stares and unamused glares, she was considerate.

"It's nothing... just thinking..." I looked to my hands, my fingers drumming and interlacing with the others while I silently sat. "You sure? Not a single thing?" She stood up from her spot and removed her gloves, she had only taken the IV from my arm — tugging it from my blue vein to only show a dot of blood — but she was always cautious.

"Why is there a separation between the world of jujutsu and non-jujutsu...?"

She paused briefly before humming to my question, trying to find the words to us. She tossed the gloves in the trash and fixed her white coat turning back to me with a shrug. "It's all kind of depended on the higher-ups... they're excuse is fear." She sat back down in her chair with crossed arms. She wore a face of skepticism, judging my reaction with a silently raised brow. "Why?"

"What if there wasn't a difference? Like... if everyone knew of the dangers and precautions?" I pondered, looking to her for an answer with interest. I studied her carelessness, she was more strict than Gojo but at the same time she acts like there isn't anything to worry about either. "Well then there wouldn't be a single cursed spirit — at least much less." She simply said with a heedless voice.

"What?" I sat up straighter with curiosity, my eyes wandering her face for relief of my confusion. "Shamans reuse the energy they release, you know that, right?" She checked leaning off the back of her seat. "I do." I answered, awaiting her response.

"But non-shamans don't know how to turn their negative energy into something useful." She explained calmly, her eyes somewhere else while I nodded. "And that creates a spirit." I added in a mumble, watching her strictly for more information with her expression. Though, as usual, it wasn't much more than a blank tiredness. "Yeah, exactly."

"Is that all you were thinking of?" She asked looking back to me with an unfamiliar wariness. "Something... like that."

————

"You're all better?" Checking on me was none other than the black-haired boy who was always so naturally kind. With a solemness in my eyes I looked up to Yuuta from where I sat on concrete steps outside. I had originally planned to spend the evening alone but I never disliked his presence. My thoughts were always contradicting each other enough so giving me time to direct them may help me instead of acting so impulsively. From the conversation with Ieiri to where my place is in this world — I've just needed to think.

I leaned my face up from my knees, my comfortable curl that I sat in slowly turned simpler. "I guess..." I swallowed the harshness in my mouth, unamused by the presence of the boy. "That's good." He took the spot next to me with a sigh and placed his hand on his lap. I simply hummed to his calm words, looking downwards at his hands then to my own. He wasn't ever obnoxious or impulsive, he wasn't bothersome or insulting, he was just kind, and his presence was relieving.

He leaned towards me slightly, his head still turned forwards as well as mine. "And you didn't die." He said in a matter-of-fact tone, his eyes steadily ahead all the way until he leaned back into place. "Yeah..." We were encased by silence not too long after my murmur, the silent whispers of trees in the wind passed through the quietness daringly. The birds flew overhead, soaring through the great blue sky and puffs of white clouds with cheery calls. The sky was dimming, the sun preparing to shine light on the other side of the world with bright and confident rays.

"I'm sorry..."