Cursed Currents | Gojo & Geto

四

┏━°⌜ 呪術廻戦 ⌟°━┓
4
BRACELETS
┗━°⌜ 呪術廻戦 ⌟°━┛

I stand in the middle of my room, surrounded by the familiar comfort I've built over the past few months. Sunlight streams through the large window, casting long shadows on the floor as I focus on the task at hand—packing. My hands move methodically as I gather a few essential clothes from the closet, folding each item neatly before placing it into a small bag. I don't need much; at home, there's more than enough, though most of it feels more like it belongs to someone else than to me.

I reach for a comfortable pair of jeans, the ones I wear when I need to feel grounded, and tuck them into the bag along with a couple of loose shirts. A hoodie goes in next—just in case I need something to hide in, something to pull over my head when the weight of being back home becomes too much. I close the bag briefly and glance around my room, taking in the familiar sight of my manga collection stacked neatly on the shelves, the potted plants that have surprisingly thrived under my care, and the small knick-knacks that make this space feel like a sanctuary.

But there's no room for sentimentality right now. I turn my attention to my desk, where a small pile of books sits waiting. They're the ones I know I'll need to study during the break—no matter how much I'd rather not think about schoolwork while I'm supposed to be relaxing. I pick up a worn copy of Barrier Techniques: An Intermediate Guide and run my fingers over the creased cover before placing it in my bag. Next comes a book on cursed energy manipulation, one I've read so many times the pages are starting to wear thin.

As I pack the books, a thought nags at the back of my mind, one that's been growing louder the closer we get to the break: I still don't fully understand my cursed technique. Despite my efforts, despite the training, there are parts of it that remain elusive, almost out of reach. And my family? They've made it abundantly clear that I'm on my own in figuring it out. Whether it's because they're afraid of what my technique could become or because they don't see the point in helping me—maybe they just don't care enough—it leaves me with no choice. If I want answers, I'll have to find them myself.

I mentally add it to the list of things I need to do once I'm back home: find a book about my cursed technique. The family archives are extensive, filled with ancient texts that no one else seems to touch. Somewhere in that labyrinth of forgotten knowledge, there must be something that can help me understand the power that flows through my veins. The thought of wandering those cold, dark halls fills me with a mixture of dread and determination. I've always hated the archives, with their musty smell and oppressive silence, but I'm willing to visit them if it means gaining control over my abilities.

I slump down on my bed, sinking into the softness as I try to shut out the looming dread of having to leave. I wish I could stay here, in the relative peace I've found at Kyoto Tech, but time is ticking, and soon I'll have to face everything I've been avoiding. With a heavy sigh, I reach for my earphones, slipping them into my ears, letting the familiar music drown out my thoughts.

The moment the first notes hit, I feel myself slipping away from reality, getting lost in the rhythm and lyrics. I close my eyes, letting the music carry me, pushing back the anxiety that's been creeping in ever since the end of term drew near. I think back to everything that's happened since I arrived here—how much has changed in just a few months. I've made friends, real friends, the kind I never thought I'd have. The thought of them brings a warmth to my chest, and for a moment, the weight of what's to come lifts.

But then, suddenly, the bed shifts beneath me. My eyes snap open, and I'm met with the sight of Aiko grinning down at me. She's leaning over the edge of the bed, her wide eyes full of mischief. I huff, pulling out my earphones, the music fading into the background as reality comes rushing back.