Cursed Currents | Gojo & Geto

一

┏━°⌜ 呪術廻戦 ⌟°━┓
1
KYOTO TECH
┗━°⌜ 呪術廻戦 ⌟°━┛

I step off the train, feeling a mix of anticipation and relief as the crisp, cool air hits me. The journey to Kyoto Jujutsu Tech was longer and more challenging than I expected, winding through dense forests and remote hills. This place is a far cry from the bustling city life I've known—everything here feels expansive and untouched.

The dormitory, nestled in the heart of this secluded area, is surrounded by towering trees and rolling green hills. As I walk up the path to the building, the serene isolation is both calming and invigorating. The campus, with its blend of traditional architecture and natural beauty, is a world away from the oppressive confines of the Kamo residence.

My room, located on the top floor, has a large window that floods the space with natural light. I'm immediately drawn to the view: an endless stretch of forest, with misty mountains barely visible in the distance. The sight is breathtaking in its tranquility, offering a sense of peace that I haven't felt in a long time despite living outside Kyoto.

I begin to unpack, starting with my manga collection. As I place each volume on the wooden shelves, the familiar spines create a comforting sight. They are a reminder of the worlds I've escaped to in times of stress.

Next, I turn to my plants. I've brought a selection of small potted greens—succulents, ferns, and a particularly vibrant snake plant. Arranging them on the windowsill, I watch as they catch the sunlight.

I add a few more personal touches: framed prints of cherry blossoms and serene mountain landscapes, which complement the view outside. A cozy throw blanket draped over my desk chair and a colorful rug on the floor complete the look. I light a few candles, their soft scents creating a calming atmosphere.

As I work, the soft music from my phone plays in the background. I hum along to the tunes, letting the soothing rhythm help me unwind. The process of decorating my room feels therapeutic, a welcome distraction from the journey's exhaustion.

When I'm finally done, I take a moment to appreciate the view from the window. As I look up, my gaze follows the sloping roof of the dormitory building. The idea of climbing up to the roof suddenly pops into my mind.

I open the window, the cool breeze rushing in and carrying the fresh scent of pine and earth. With a quick glance around to ensure no one is watching, I lean out slightly, assessing the climb. The surface of the building is rough, with a series of protruding ledges and architectural details that could serve as handholds. It's a challenge, but one I'm willing to take.

My heart pounds with a mix of excitement and nerves as I grip the window frame and pull myself up onto the ledge. The first few moments are a test of balance and coordination. My feet find small footholds as I maneuver carefully, pushing myself upward. The climb is more difficult than I anticipated, and a few moments into it, my fingers slip slightly from their grip.

Panic flares briefly as I feel myself sliding, the risk of falling a stark reality. I instinctively reach out, grabbing onto a nearby protruding piece of stone. My training comes into play; the countless hours of practicing agility and strength give me a quick reflex to stabilize myself. I manage to regain my grip, my muscles straining as I pull myself up, the rough texture of the stone digging into my palms.

With a deep breath, I continue the ascent, focusing on each movement with careful precision. The climb becomes a rhythm of sorts, a series of calculated motions that lead me steadily upward. The wind whistles around me, adding an element of unpredictability to the climb, but I remain determined.

Finally, I reach the top. I pull myself over the edge and onto the roof. The flat surface feels surprisingly stable beneath me. From this vantage point, the view is even more breathtaking. The forest stretches out in all directions, a sea of green that fades into the distant blue of the sky.