Floating Like a Lilo ── Itadori Yuuji (✓)

05 I AM TRUTH, LIES AND ALL

I DON'T KNOW WHY I RUN AWAY
I'LL MAKE YOU CRY WHEN I RUN AWAY

save your tears,
the weeknd

The truth is burdensome and complex, laced with veils of lies and struggles and the blemishes of reality. It is the noose that deities sling about human throats to watch rope graze skin and layers wither away like wilting flowers crushed under autumn winds.

And what was the truth? You're not too sure. It was a thin layer of dust billowing and jutting to look at, shrouded behind too many words.

Part of you feels silhouetted in the palm of fate, suspended for all to see as the gods play with the loose strings of your bones. You've been swayed by the stream of water that curses and the world of sorcery reside in; wherever this life went, you would soon follow.

Fushiguro meets you outside the hospital; perhaps he was being treated there. He looks the same except for the plasters and bandages littered across his ivory face.

You look at him breathless, having forgotten how rich the darkness in his hair seemed to be. Black like a raven haunting a full moon, when midnight skies peel back to taunt oblivion and remember the gleam of the old universe.

It's a celestial forlorn that most humans, more often than not, crave to feel whole again.

"Fushiguro!" You hurry over, a wide grin on your face. "You're looking good!"

He narrows his eyes in his unwavering expression, pointing to the bandage wrapped around his head, "You think so after seeing this?"

You stifle a laugh, a weak smile worn on your face.

He deadpans, hands on hip rather comically. "You know that you are going to transfer to the same school for jujutsu sorcerers that I attend, right?"

Your jaw drops, "Huh?! But... I don't... I don't understand anything from this world... and it scares me."

And it scared my mother too.

"But I saw that shield you made against the cursed spirit," He tilts his head in confusion; in his eyes there are splitting stars and ephemeral wondering.

"Cursed spirit?" You murmur, feeling a swell of something unpleasant digest your bones; just even such words evokes a dark stain over your aura.

Fushiguro nods bluntly, "They're a race of spiritual beings born from aggregated Cursed Energy that flows into particular notions, sentiments and things of that nature. They're basically corrupt spirits with supernatural abilities that exist to haunt humanity. Sometimes... to end it."

You feel a shiver dance down the ridge of your spine, "Can everyone see them?"

"No," He shakes his head, "'Cuz their bodies are made of Cursed Energy, Cursed Spirits can't be seen by normal humans. They can only be seen under special conditions by regular humans, such as a life or death situation. For us, however, the amount of Cursed Energy coming from our bodies lets us see them at all times."

"Where do I come into this?" You frown, a thin-lipped downwards curve resting on your face. "I didn't know shit compared to everyone else."

Fushiguro's light green eyes bore into yours, like chartreuse leaves dangling with dew following a morning rain in spring. The colour of grass in prairies you would run through to feel free.

"Your ancestors were likely Jujutsu Sorcerers, or you were imbued with cursed energy through a series of coincidences. Or even both." His words have such a grave emphasis to them; you don't like it at all.