𝔟𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔟𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔪𝔫𝔢𝔡.

Pretty When You Cry

You were distraught.

You'd reached out to another special grade sorcerer—one that never went on any missions and traveled around the world. A woman—Yuki Tsukumo. She was pretty, with comical blonde hair and pretty brown eyes. She had an athletic build—Maki had a little more muscle than she did—though she was much taller, probably around 5'10. Yeah, she was pretty (but Maki was prettier).

Her apartment in Shibuya was always cold because she was never paying her bills, so you had to huddle up in a blanket she'd pulled from her closet the night you reached out. You were lucky—she was just landing in Tokyo. When you told her your story—with much disdain and even melancholy in your voice—she was suspicious at first, but she knew you were just a child.

Yuki sat down on the couch parallel to the one you're huddled up on, crossing her legs and one arm around the back. "You gonna get up and get a life or stay depressed in my apartment forever?"

You hugged your knees to your chest as you stayed frozen under the blanket—it was keeping you warm, you weren't cold; you were frozen in a daydream, playing memories in your head like a movie. Memories of your friends, memories of Maki, back when you didn't have the weight of the world over your shoulders.

Yuki sighed, running a hand through her long hair, "Girl problems can't be what halts you as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, kid. I get that you're in love, but...maybe you two weren't meant to be."

And that's what makes your heart ache in your chest—reaching sensitive pinpoints of you that only beforehand Maki could reach. It's not pleasant—it's not warm, it's not giddy, it's not like how Maki reached you—it's cold, it's sharp, it's not like Maki.

Knowing you might not—will not, because this is the Jujutsu world, where untimely deaths and heartbreak are inevitable—ever end up being with Maki, in a far away fairytale land where neither of you have to worry about a single curse ever again. Spending the rest of your happy days in a cabin in a forest—filled with positively flowing rivers, healthy trees, prospering wildlife—being with each other instead of against each other.

She sighs again and leans forward, her elbows on her knees. The dim light from the Blue Hour barely shown into the room, you were barely visible, but your cursed energy level was enough to make out your body lying on her couch.

"Do you think she's worth sulking on my couch for?" She asked again, more quietly this time and with more sympathetic eyes. Your brain chemistry fired in your brain when you looked at her—your eyes were practically empty, not even a little bit of light seen in them.

"She's so beautiful," you finally let out—your voice scratchy from silently crying when her presence wasn't around. "She's like a warm sun on a cold winter day. She's one of those girls you'd see at the gas station while you're in an outfit you didn't care about. She's rough at first— she's a little mean with her light banter—but she's nicer after a while. But she was never mean to me. She was just as stubborn with me as she was with everyone else, but she was always her nicest to me. She has this little dimple on her left cheek that always comes out whenever she's getting a good laugh at something. Her smile—it was handcrafted by God, I tell you—"

"Now I'm startin' to miss her," Yuki giggles, grinning cheekily as she pops her thumb and lets out a soft sigh. "I met a guy who was in your shoes, about 10 years ago and some change. He had the face of a hopeless man, and maybe he was. I heard about him killing a big fat handful of people, even his own parents."