[ ᴠᴀʀɪᴏᴜꜱ! ᴊᴜᴊᴜᴛꜱᴜ ᴋᴀɪꜱᴇɴ x ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ]
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𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇'𝐒 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄 that can latch onto the body's living heart and eaten at it, replacing it with a cursed heart. No matter the way the living body di...
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━━━━━━ °⌜ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐈𝐈. ⌟° ━━━━━━
𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 | 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟒
After the graduation ceremony, you find yourself strolling on the delicate pink petals of cherry blossoms scattered at the entrance of the junior school. When you turn your head, you witness the spectacle of your classmates and fellow students capturing moments with their families and friends.
For those in clubs, first- and second-year students eagerly present their favourite graduating seniors with heartfelt gifts and cards, a ritual to bid them farewell on their journey ahead.
Fortunately, you receive one or two tokens of appreciation from your clubmates, acknowledging your dedication. Your family joins the celebration, capturing formal and silly photos featuring your siblings.
Yet, once the impromptu photoshoot concludes, your gaze instinctively drifts toward the distance.
A line forms, composed of students and teachers bearing cards and gifts for Geto, whose hands are already laden with abundant offerings. A chuckle graces your lips at the sight. People have depended on him, and it's no surprise that they express their gratitude with gifts and inquiries about his high school choice.
He casually responds with a vague "somewhere in Tokyo."
As a couple of teachers approach you, suggesting you consider joining the art club in high school, you nervously chuckle and shrug.
However, the looming decision about your future leaves a bitter taste, a 180-degree turn spurred by a fateful encounter with a curse.
Regret doesn't linger; every experience, especially the friendship with Geto, emanates from that pivotal moment. You don't blame the curse, Death's Pulse, for your choices – you willingly accepted it and are prepared for the consequences.
Despite the looming uncertainty, there's no overwhelming dread. The prospect of having Geto by your side is a comforting constant amidst the whirlwind of change – a new school, environment, and faces equate to a fresh start. This perspective eases the stress and melancholy of your junior years. Now, you won't be recognized solely as--
"Corpse Darling~!"
A shiver runs down your spine at the sound of that voice. Your head stiffens with fear before you nearly choke, finding the white-haired boy in a black blazer, a casual white shirt, fitted gray pants, and black boots. His signature dark round glasses frame a mischievous smirk as he holds a bouquet of white flowers against his shoulders, a book in his other hand.
