Corpse Flowers [Jujutsu Kaisen]

🥀 Chapter Eight 🥀

Ever since that evening in the frigid month of December, Seiran remained within the confines of her home. Everything in her life had suddenly come to a standstill. Everything that had once defined her as a person was now something that she could never attend to. Everything that she used to enjoy partaking in was now suddenly gone. Everything had completely changed. Nothing remained the same.

Lady Naoki had told Seiran that she could no longer attend her classes at the Jujutsu Metropolitan Curse Technical College, and that she could no longer go out on missions as a Sorcerer. She had called those activities as 'measly' compared to how much more important it was for her to focus on her duty as the Priestess.

"You are expected to withhold the Cursed Spirits at bay," Lady Naoki told her. "You are expected to regulate the flow of energy in this world. You cannot waste your time distracted from this duty. There are Sorcerers who can deal with that trouble. And you are helping! Helping by doing your duty,"

Never did it make any sense for Seiran to respond to Lady Naoki. And she never did aside from simply looking away – as if she was a child resistant to object permanence. As if Lady Naoki would vanish if Seiran would do as simple as looking away from the elderly woman.

Since she had been a young child, her mother had always mentioned to Seiran how much she resembled the depth of the moon. And ever since she could consciously recall her life, Seiran had stared at the moon. Every evening, through the long span of the night, Seiran would only stare at the distant moon as it melted through its phases. She was the chakor infatuated with the moon.

But no matter how much Seiran would have rather been the unassuming partridge than a human, the fate thrusted upon her had clouded her love for the moon. Seiran felt utterly tired even at the mere thought of it. Everything was utterly exhausted. It drenched her to her bone with it.

There was no one with whom Seiran could talk anymore. She had tried to talk to Suguru, but he always appeared extremely absent-minded in those calls, and Satoru had insistently just talked about his marriage plans with her. Seiran could no longer find the energy to be understanding.

How could she blame them for being like this when they lived in the world, and she lived within its shadow? Seiran wondered if Suguru had found something else to occupy his mind. Or maybe he had found someone. He had never been this aloof toward her. He was slipping away from her fingers. Slipping away from her memories.

In the confines of her home, away from any male personage, there was only one person with whom Seiran felt any shred of companionship: her orphaned niece, Kageyama Shion. The young girl was the only silver of hope left in her life. The only one who gave her any happiness. Seiran treated her more as a daughter than as a niece. Seiran showered her withering affections onto Shion.

When her grandmother had been the High Priestess, Seiran had struggled with supplying her with the energy to deal with the curse of the Full Moon. But it wasn't until it appeared onto her as a young Priestess herself that Seiran realised how painful it truly was. Seiran yearned for death, unable to deal with the pain nor having the energy to deal with the consequences of it.

That was how Seiran found herself returning to the place that she had once considered a home more than the Manjushage Residence – Tokyo Jujutsu High.

Lady Naoki had been staunchly against this, but Seiran had refused to listen to her. Seiran had done as she liked: She wore her school uniform and pulled on her favourite red Haori rather than the black one she was encouraged to. For a moment in time, Seiran resembled what she was meant to be.

... an ordinary student at an extraordinary school...

August had come sweeping in, eight months following her inauguration as the newest High Priestess. It had been a year since the incident with Amanai Riko and Fushiguro Toji that Seiran stepped foot out of the confines of her home. She felt utterly naked under the sun, yet she walked with an air of confidence that did not betray her insecurities. Seiran was used to this.