Ghost || Jujutsu Kaisen

『 4: A Fading Nobody 』

It's hard to make descriptions of seasons you had never actually experienced *cries in tropical country*

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Euphonies brought forth by the season's zephyrs resonated within the skies of the academy, casting spells for leaves to waltz to their tune, for vines to sway to the melodies which it oh so effortlessly sang, for petals to scatter like glass, painting the heavens with multitudes of colors found only when the vernal freshness of spring blanketed the land. Trees that were once bare, snow-driven, claws left to reach longingly towards the sea of clouds were now shaded green, gleaming so vibrantly as though stars were born from the fruits they bore. Bodies of water that had pooled during the rains of autumn had thawed the momentary stillness gifted by the winter season, glistening every now and then as it basked under the light of the blazing sun.

Not much time had elapsed since that fateful day. Sure, the sun had risen and descended, and the moon had waxed and waned but to the Sorcerer who had to go through such a drastic change, it seemed as though that moment played out so long, long ago. Toge. Inumaki Toge. Even his own name felt foreign to his tongue. When Inumaki was just a boy under the guidance of his Clan, his father used to go on and on about the importance of names, the power you could hold on someone if you knew of their origin... of the name they were bestowed upon at birth. It was one of the many things you could proudly call your own. To have it be spoken such an unnatural number of times you'd expect yourself to get sick of it—but every time... unfailingly—the same thrill would course through your veins even when you whisper it. But for Inumaki... it was different. Pathetic. He would think. His own name was a stranger to him but the words he used to subjugate lingered around him as if they were his shadow. Is this what it felt like to have a mouth whose sole purpose is to eradicate? To curse others? To have been given a voice only to have it be used to kill?

Unfair. It was so very unfair.

There existed not a single day Inumaki had spent breathing on this planet that he had not hoped that things were different. Inumaki loved his father, very much so, his father who had taught him the importance of his ability, cared for him when he stumbled and bled, defended him against all odds; Inumaki loved his mother, who made him all the food he could want, smiled at him when no one did, his hardworking mother who tried her best to find every second she could scavenge to spend it with him. He loved them desperately... but they could never understand.

It was easy for them, inordinately so. They weren't blessed like him. His father never had to worry that a word he'd carelessly speak could take away the life of his beloved; his mother never had to cower in fear when she would look into the eyes of the one she loved. They would never understand. If it truly was a blessing like elders speak of... then, why did it hurt him so much?

He could curse the world—damn it all to hell if he wanted to!

Inumaki's turbulent gaze met with the figure of a girl not quite far from where he was; the sun shining down on her frame, refracting all the colors the universe had to offer. Around her, the butterflies danced to the melody of her laughter, petals woven like tapestries flying off to the distant sky. Her hands carefully holding a dandelion puff she had barely managed to grasp. How she had done it... he did not know.

Inumaki could burn it down... everything.

But... he took one look at her.

"Look, Inumaki-kun!" Eyes that stared right back at him, shone brighter than all the stars in the galaxy.

He took one look at her... and every thought fell silent.

The ghost ran towards Inumaki at full speed, startling the meadow in her wake. A trail of yellow stardust scattered behind her, looking as though the fireflies' light had awoken in broad daylight. Inumaki wasn't quite sure how to put it... there was beauty and then, there was her. [Name] caught herself before she barreled straight into him, she reckoned Inumaki wouldn't like that very much, her face-splitting grin still plastered on her face. The ghost gave a proud laugh before crouching down to his level; slowly, she opened her enclosed hands to let him catch a glimpse of the fleeting wonder. Although, [Name] herself held little to no opacity... Inumaki still had made the effort to squint his eyes to see what had made her so happy.

He looked towards her hands, and he took one look at her... and suddenly, everything was okay.

Inumaki swore to himself, many, many moons ago... swore that there would be nothing that could ever hinder him from his duties, not the scornful looks he'd receive from his relatives, the curses muttered against him behind his back, not even his peers or his very own family.

Inumaki could curse the world—damn it all to hell if he wanted to—yet his lips would falter to even whisper her name.

It took him by surprise, not her laughter or the way she looked at anything with joy—not even the unexpected change in his ideals—no... cradled in between the palm of her hands was--

"Ya know... I barely remember most of the things I had when I was alive," she began, sitting beside Inumaki on the stone staircase that led towards the wide field. "But I do remember snow." Her hands—that no longer held the fading miracle—situated themselves behind her, supporting her to the best of their abilities.

Snow.

Inumaki remained silent. Just... who are you? He wanted to ask. The irony of it all would be enough to have the Maki surrender to the Zenin Clan: [Name] silenced all his demons, every single voice that weighed him down vanished as though they were never there to begin with, leaving him with nothing but the eerie stillness—but regardless of all that—she, herself, had no qualms to trigger every trap he established to announce her arrival. He felt threatened, like a rabbit slowly being cornered by a vicious hyena, as though one wrong move could place him in a situation that he couldn't bear to be in.

The ghost took notice of his unresponsiveness. Her eyebrows creased as an annoyed frown replaced that gentle smile.

"You don't have many friends, do you?" She blatantly commented, getting all up and about in the Sorcerer's personal space.

Inumaki's expression shifted into that of offended and taken aback, a hue of one's face that the ghost thought to be quite amusing. I mean, she's not wrong but does she have to say it out loud? It didn't matter now, as embarrassing as it was to say, it was and will remain the truth. The Exorcist shied away from her sneering stare, finding it difficult whether to agree or to deny.

[Name] stared amusedly at the silver-haired boy, finding his demeanor to be a source of joy. Although his face was hidden from her view, from what the little gaps between his platinum hair could provide, she could see the way the tips of his ear had turned a bright shade of red. Her eyes crinkled at the sight as she moved away, a deafening cackle erupting from the back of her throat.

Inumaki felt shivers run down his spine as he looked back only to stare at the ghost laughing like a maniac. Sure, he'd seen her laughing and smiling many times these past few weeks but many of those were her laughing at a kid who fell flat on his face, a joke she'd overhear from a person passing by, or even something as trivial as seeing an unguarded plate of French fries on the table, but she'd never actually laughed directly at him—rather because of him—at least... he didn't think so.

"Okay..." and bit by bit, her horrendous chortles died down to little hiccups, "I'm sorry for embarrassing you," she faced Inumaki, a big grin once again adorning her face as her eyes shifted into two crescent moons.

"If you want... I'll spend what's left of my life hanging out with you!"