Ghost || Jujutsu Kaisen

『 2: Not so talkative, Mr. Shake Sushi? 』

Morning spring light fell like rivers through the shoji screens that lined the corridors of the institute, painting the wooden flooring which the Sorcerer tread upon with luminescence. His hands sheathed in the pockets of his uniform as the faint pitter-patter of his footsteps bounced from one wooden frame to another until it eventually reached the ears of the Spirit hiding behind the next corner.

Leaves descending from the heavens projected shadows upon her fading figure; eyes brightening under the warm rays of the April sun, reflecting the glimmer of mischief residing within their depths. A small chuckle left her parted lips, not a cloud of mist in sight to flaunt her presence. Her eyelids curtained her (e/c) irises for a small moment, silent giggles shaking her body with joy before they unveiled once more---

"Konbu."

... to reveal an Exorcist standing before her.

"SHAKE SUSHI GUY!" She greeted; the same happy grin carved upon her face. Her arms spread out wide, imitating that of the wings of a bird that was ready to take flight. The white-haired Sorcerer raised a curious eyebrow at her, half wondering what on earth was she doing hiding behind a corner like a serial killer and the other half thinking: what's got her so happy? It hasn't even been half a day—

Inumaki's thoughts halted at the cold sensation engulfing his frame. It felt as if he was submerged in a body of water sealed by an eternal frost; imprisoned by a warden punished to a thousand years of loneliness. It had encased him in a desperate grasp, claws sinking deep into his skin as if shackling itself to his embrace. That was what this was—a hug. That word appeared so foreign to Inumaki, having only experienced such a sensation a small number of times: when he was little, unenlightened by the world around him, free from the restraints of the society of Sorcerers and curses, a time when he didn't find it so challenging to be around other people. How strange it was... he had craved warmth. He was left starved and begging for it, yet he cowered away every time someone was close enough.

"I was the one who was supposed to scare you, you know!" She sulked, not once breaking free from her hold on the stupefied Sorcerer. The Spirit looked at him with big, wonderous eyes; pools of (e/c) so clear that it nearly mirrored the face of the Exorcist at the receiving end of it all. "But you appeared so suddenly that I was the one who got spooked. Hehe. Get it?" The Spirit let out a carefree laugh, one that blended all too well with the rest of the melodies fluttering around them.

Yes, I get it, but it's not that funny.

It rattled him so, that he could not shoo her off. Yes, he did admit to himself and his imaginary audience that he wasn't the best with words. If he were to be so brazenly honest with himself, he would be placed dead last in a competition with anything involving speaking with other people (with no magic). Inumaki needed her to leave—he'd even settle for helping her find someone else to annoy and even throw in free earplugs to the unlucky person who'll receive such a... loquacious Spirit. He'd do anything to get her off his yard but... the longer he found himself basking in the comfort she provided, the harder it was to find it in himself to tell her to go away. Because right now, as he watched her walk around in circles around him, talking so animatedly as though they were friends who transcended a thousand lifetimes to meet once more, he thought to himself that perhaps... perhaps this was... boundless retribution for all the sins he had done.

"Hey! Ya-Hoo! Are you still there, Magic Man?" Translucent hands waved over his terror-stricken face. This really is retribution. Inumaki's head tipped to the side, "Oi! Hey! Anybody home?" before ultimately hanging low in defeat. If a soul (alive or dead) were to pass him by, they'd probably label him as "finally-lost-it" and put him on the list of people who should consider another career. Maybe I should consider another job...

A poke in his cheek crashed his train of thought, all the incessant talking of both the Spirit's voice and his own ceased as his eyes looked up to the girl staring him down in wonder.

"Wow."

She really was pathetic, looking at him like that. He didn't paint the sky with multitudes of colors during sunset, he wasn't the one who sculpted clouds on summer days nor was he the artist who hung and arranged the constellations in the sky. He was just... Toge. A descendant of the Inumaki Clan, burdened with the ability feared by Sorcerers and Curses alike. So, why? Why are you looking at me like that?

Her gaze shone with all the fascination the universe could ever offer, her calming ever-so-present smile faltering not even once. It sparked a foreign emotion within him, casting flames that burned so bright that they shattered through the endless darkness inhabiting his soul.

"You really are a loser." She grinned, her other hand coming in to poke his opposite cheek, dragging them both upward to form some sort of awkward, lopsided smiling face. Inumaki would've felt offended—greatly so—only that what she had said was indeed true. He is a loser. He was entertaining a Spirit for heaven's sake! "Which is great news for me!"

It is?

Inumaki's head raised to look at the Ghost, mapping out her face to search for any hints of ridicule, traces of haughtiness... pity masked by false concern—yet his forage ended in vain. Her cold fingers remained planted on his cheeks, no longer forcing them to a happy expression, as she peered back at his inquisitive stare with warmth. Inumaki's eyes said it all: every bit of curiosity he harbored for her strange declaration, the edging suspense gnawing at his tongue, and the awaiting overtone he did not even bother to conceal.

'Why is it so great?'

"Because that means I get to keep you all to myself."

The Sorcerer's face erupted to every shade of red imaginable. How can she just say something like that? Is she insane? Yeah! No way in hell would a stable person say that! Inumaki's eyes blanched out in surprise, steam arising from the top of his head as his entire body had gone rigid from embarrassment.

"Aww..." the Spirit cooed at the state of the ashen-haired Exorcist, "are you shy?" She laughed, seemingly not even a little bit bothered by all the torment she was causing. "But it's true though!" Her watchful gaze drifted to a close as those all too familiar crescent shapes morphed to form the structures of her eyes. "You'll be stuck with me for a looong time!"

Inumaki was half-convinced he wouldn't meet his end through an excruciatingly, back-breaking, painful battle against a curse, rather his death would ultimately be delivered by this... this beast! He couldn't fathom staying under that vigilant, teasing stare of hers much less have her around for who knows how long! She talks too much. Too loud. Too bright. Too smiley. Too warm...

"And after we die... I'll find you in my next life, the next life after that--" Oh, please no, "and all the ones after that~"

The Sorcerer looked left and right, prying his surroundings for an escape route and when his eyes landed on none, he turned back to look at the daydreaming female, deciding that if there was no way out... then he was going to make one. Inumaki's slender fingers made contact with the fabric shielding the lower part of his face, tugging it further down to reveal the ink that was painted on the outskirts of his mouth.

Filling his lungs with oxygen – eyes lingering a little longer on the girl before him - his lips parted to set the words free.

"Be quiet." 

And like clockwork, the Spirit's figure froze, seemingly appearing as though she was a sylph trapped by the wonders of time... forever encased in that never-ending lull from the boundary of death. Inumaki reveled at the familiar stillness, his eyelids curtaining the lavender hue his irises refracted. I guess it also works on ghosts too—

"No."