Chapter Text
A car alarm blared outside, interrupting your shallow sleep.
Still groggy, you rubbed your eyes and shuffled over to the nearest window, squinting into the night.
Your fingers hovered near the curtain, debating whether to peel it back for a better view—but you waited, ears straining for any sound that might betray the intruder’s nature.
Sliding down to the floor, you leaned against the wall by the window and hugged your knees, mulling over your next move.
So far, your strategy had been simple: keep moving forward. No grand plan, no destination, just survival. Staying in one place too long was a risk you weren’t willing to take.
These abominations had an uncanny ability to detect cursed energy, especially in those who couldn’t conceal it.
You, thankfully, weren’t one of them, at least not in the usual way. There was nothing for you to conceal because, on the surface, there was nothing to find.
According to your late grandfather, you appeared to be a non-sorcerer at first glance. Only when you summoned your shikigami did a thick, resonating aura envelop you both, exposing the truth.
“It seems the entire strength of your technique lies within that beast of yours,” he’d once said.
His assessment proved painfully accurate three days ago, when the world fell apart. An abomination had lunged at you, aiming squarely for your head. In a panic, you screamed your shikigami’s name as monstrous claws ripped into your flesh. But instead of appearing on your skin, they materialized on your familiar’s body, leaving you shaken but entirely unharmed, aside from the near heart attack.
All things considered, you couldn’t complain about the defensive nature of your technique.
The real drawback, however, was just that. Your survival hinged entirely on your shikigami’s presence. Without it, you were vulnerable.
While your cursed energy might remain undetectable on its own, these creatures weren’t limited to sensing that alone. They could still see you, hear you, even smell you. And that left little room for mistakes.
A sudden silence snapped you out of your thoughts.
Your breath hitched as you edged closer to the window, cautiously peering out into the darkness once more.
Maybe the car battery had died. Or the alarm had simply turned itself off. Cars weren’t exactly your specialty.
Either way, you exhaled quietly. If things stayed this calm, you might just maintain your two-day streak of zero interactions—be it with people or abominations.
You’d always been reclusive, preferring solitude over the company of others, and that didn't change, even during this apocalypse. Taking care of yourself was already enough of a struggle; the idea of being responsible for someone else felt like an impossible burden.
Your stomach growled.
Right. Survival didn’t pause for hunger, no matter how inconvenient the timing.
Let's see...
Yesterday, you’d reached the outskirts of a ruined area in Shinjuku, banking on the idea that the collapsed and abandoned buildings might still hold some untouched supplies. Too tired to explore, you had taken refuge in a randomly chosen shelter for the night.
Now, with dawn breaking, you wasted no time.
Gathering your things, you stepped outside, determined to make the most of the fleeting early hours.
* * * * * *
Even though you knew you could call your shikigami’s name out loud and have it protect you instantly, you still felt uneasy wandering through the ruins of the C2 expressway at night.
The shadows here felt heavier, the silence more oppressive, and the devastation far worse than anything you had encountered elsewhere.
Other prefectures hadn’t suffered this extent of destruction, making you wonder what exactly had unfolded here.
After your grandfather’s death, you’d completely distanced yourself from the world of jujutsu. Yet even with your limited knowledge, you recognized that both the Shibuya Incident and the recent chaos were far from ordinary.
So, was coming here a smart choice?
The stash of food in your backpack suggested yes—yes it was. In the rush to escape, people had left behind supplies you could put to good use.
You halted as your gaze landed on the remnants of a gas station, its shattered blue sign dangling precariously from a snapped post.
Standing near what appeared to be the entrance, you hesitated, weighing whether you could slip inside without drawing attention.
A nearby residential building loomed in the darkness, its ruins sprawled against the station’s side. It was hard to tell whether the collapse had compromised the structure further, but the scene reeked of instability.
You rocked back on your heels, considering your options.
The year was nearing its end. Snow had yet to fall, but the days were growing colder, and the nights even worse. Extra layers or a few blankets would make a difference, and gas stations tended to carry all sorts of odds and ends. If luck was on your side, you might even find a power bank tucked away somewhere—a small lifeline, considering your phone was on the brink of death.
A distant scraping sound made the decision for you.
Not keen on becoming some deformed monster’s next victim, you moved swiftly, slipping through a glassless window.
The jagged edge caught your sleeve, and you narrowly avoided hitting your head on the collapsed ceiling inside.
Crouching low, you navigated the wreckage-strewn entryway, ducking beneath splintered beams. A few cautious steps in, the ceiling arched higher, letting you straighten up and take in the full extent of the ruin around you.
You carefully stepped over broken glass, scanning the dim interior for anything useful. The air inside was stale, carrying the faint scent of gasoline mixed with mildew, and the occasional creak from the unstable structure made you question whether this was worth the risk.
Moving toward what used to be the checkout counter, you perched on its edge and pulled out your phone, shielding the faint glow with your sleeve to keep the light confined to your immediate space.
The screen's dim brightness, set to its lowest level, mirrored the dangerously low battery percentage—another reminder of how little time you had left before losing its usefulness entirely.
Shit.
In just a few days, the craving for music had already begun to gnaw at you. The relentless flood of thoughts refused to quiet, leaving behind an undercurrent of anxiety that steadily swelled into something heavier.
You were starting to reconsider your initial strategy of moving far away from the city. With its dense population, the metropolis practically guaranteed encounters with abominations. The countryside or wilderness, on the other hand, might give you the chance to catch your breath.
Sure, finding food would be more challenging, but you’d figure it out, or maybe even see if your shikigami could hunt somethi—was that a hand?!
Your breath caught in your throat.
The dim glow of your phone flickered against the wreckage, casting shadows that twisted and stretched like grasping fingers.
Either hunger was making you hallucinate, or there really was a human hand sticking out from beneath the rubble.
You silently apologized to your future self for wasting battery on a potential corpse, but ignoring someone in need weighed heavier on your conscience.
Moving carefully, you knelt down, mindful of the jagged debris that could cut into your legs, and brought your phone closer, its faint light trembling slightly as you steadied your hand.
It was definitely a human hand. Pale fingers jutted out stiffly, and the wrist bore a dark mark—perhaps a band or a tattoo.
Either way, it didn’t matter.
You hesitated before pressing your fingers against the dark spot, searching for a pulse. Your own hand looked small in comparison, the difference stark even in the faint glow of your phone.
To your surprise, there was a faint but steady rhythm beneath your touch. They were alive.
A wave of mixed emotions surged through you, relief tangling with dread.
That selfish part of you almost wished they hadn’t been, if only because it would have spared you the daunting responsibility of trying to save someone. With no idea what you were doing and every chance of making things worse, the task felt tad overwhelming.
You quickly withdrew your hand and switched off your phone screen, mindful of conserving battery.
Damn it. Why had you never bothered to learn even the basics of first aid? It wouldn’t have prepared you for an apocalypse, but at least you might have known what to do in situations like this, or at least something about handling earthquake aftermaths.
Taking a moment to steady yourself, you decided that assessing the situation was the best first step.
Straining your ears, you felt a flicker of relief at the sound of crickets chirping outside.
When abominations were nearby, even animals fell silent. The persistent hum of nature suggested the area was relatively safe, at least for now.
Maybe whatever had made those scraping sounds earlier had moved on. You hoped it stayed that way.
A nervous laugh slipped out as you inwardly cursed yourself for your misplaced sense of altruism.
Why couldn’t you just focus on your own survival for once?
Why were you incapable of being selfish; of simply taking what you needed from the station and moving on without a second thought about some stranger’s fate? It would have been so much easier.
Your fingers brushed against the medium on your left wrist—a bracelet crafted from a slightly browned bone of unknown origin, its surface smooth but oddly warm to the touch. A translucent crystal was embedded in its center, catching faint traces of light and giving off an otherworldly sheen.
Better try handling it on your own first, you decided, letting your hand drop. There was no need to rely on your shikigami just yet.
With deliberate caution, you started removing the rubble surrounding the unconscious person, prioritizing the pieces on top.
It didn’t take long—barely a minute—before the strain set in, leaving every muscle in your arms sore.
Ouch.
God, you really should’ve hit the gym at least once a week instead of lounging on the couch with a bag of snacks. Maybe then lifting these chunks of debris wouldn’t feel so utterly draining.
You pushed on, ignoring the trembling in your arms and the growing heaviness of your sweat-soaked jacket. Each movement felt slower, but stopping wasn’t an option.
After several minutes of blindly sifting through the rubble, the task grew too challenging to manage by touch alone.
Reluctantly, you pulled out your phone, knowing full well how precious those last few percentages of battery were. With a quiet sigh, you turned on the flashlight...
...and nearly screamed, barely managing to stifle it by clamping a hand over your mouth.
Fuck, that wasn’t a human.
Not only did the flashlight reveal additional limbs and extra eyes, but also a distorted fragment of a face.
You staggered back, instinctively preparing to call your shikigami.
A single detail, however, brought your panic to a screeching halt before it could fully consume you.
Abominations bled purple, not red.
This guy’s cuts, scattered across his body in varying sizes, were encrusted with dried brown blood. His scraped and torn skin was brutal to look at, making you wince with reluctant sympathy.
Swallowing the unease clawing at your chest, you forced yourself to focus. With only a few precious minutes of phone battery left, you continued examining the unconscious man, determined to figure out his condition before making your next move.
He was massive.
Even lying down, his sheer size made it clear he could easily overshadow your shikigami, leaving you feeling as insignificant as a matchstick in comparison.
Dust clung to his short hair, which still stood out due to its unusual color, possibly pink, if you had to guess.
Another weird thing about him were clothes; he wore nothing but loose white pants, with no trace of a shirt anywhere. Had he not been wearing one when the building collapsed on him?
You tapped your phone lightly against your temple, running through your options.
The first beams of sunlight would appear soon, marking the beginning of daytime—an inconvenient time for traveling.
Navigating through the night was easier in some ways, but it also handed monsters the advantage of darkness, making it a gamble either way.
Transporting this giant of a man, however, was out of the question. Even with your shikigami’s strength, it was likely he could only be dragged across the ground, an action that would create far too much noise and draw unwanted attention.
Your only option was to hope the guy woke up before things got dangerous.
The thought of slapping him awake had crossed your mind, but you’d probably break your knuckles on that rock-hard jaw of his before managing to rouse him.
Water. You needed water.
Maybe there were plastic dispensers somewhere in the station. It’d be smarter to check the area first before dipping into your own limited supplies.
As you straightened up in the cramped confines of the collapsed station, a sharp jolt of pain shot through your back, making you wince.
Yet another reason to blame your laziness. Should the world ever go back to normal, you will never slouch in front of the TV or computer again.
Resigned to the fact that your body felt like it belonged to an eighty-year-old, you sighed quietly and began your search.
Since you didn’t use your phone’s flashlight before, you overlooked a few treasures, such as canned food.
Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t even sniff their contents, but you weren’t in a position to be picky. Give it a couple more days and you may find yourself craving a rat.
Upon finally finding what you were looking for, you genuinely felt disappointed.
There was hardly any water left in the significantly crushed dispenser.
You searched the area for something to collect water in, but nothing suitable caught your eye.
With no other options, you had to improvise.
Clenching your phone between your teeth, you carefully scooped up as much liquid as you could in your cupped hands before quietly returning to the unconscious man.
You whispered prayers to every god you could think of before pouring the water over his tattooed face.
Nothing happened.
Frustration flared hot in your chest, and for a fleeting moment, kicking him awake seemed like an unreasonably tempting solution.
The longer you stayed here, the greater the risk to your own safety, all for a complete stranger. It wasn’t the first time your kindness had put you in a bind, and clearly, you hadn’t learned your lesson.
And then, as if to rub salt in the wound, your phone gave its final, pitiful flicker and died, plunging you into darkness.
You shoved the useless device back into your pocket with a scowl.
Maybe you’d find a power source later—surely not every corner of the country was in ruins, even if your surroundings looked like the aftermath of an atomic blast.
A sudden gust of chilling wind slipped through the station’s shattered walls, reminding you of the cold outside.
While you were sweaty and warm from exertion, your unconscious patient was still partly exposed, his bare chest and arms left vulnerable to frostbite—or worse, hypothermia.
You let out a tired breath. One more problem to solve.
How had it not crossed your mind earlier, though?
Seriously, you didn't even check for any broken bones.
See, that’s why you needed music. Your head was too damn loud and disorganized to focus on its own.
With a sigh, you slid off your backpack and rummaged through it until your fingers brushed against the only towel you owned.
The fabric was thin and worn, but it was better than letting the guy freeze to death. Honestly, it was a miracle he hadn’t turned into an icicle already, considering how long you’d left him out in the cold.
Before draping the towel over his tattooed back, you carefully ran your fingers along his broad muscles.
Your touch was gentle, motivated by a desire to avoid causing further harm if he had any hidden injuries, and by the underlying fear that he might wake up and snap you in half with those enormous arms.
All good. No lumps, bumps, or swelling detected.
Yet another resolution for when the world returned to normal: sign up for a health and safety course, and actually pay attention this time.
A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you finally placed the towel over him. The absurdity of the situation wasn’t lost on you. It was like trying to use a napkin to cover a giant.
By bending his elbows, you managed to help yourself a little, though the process felt like positioning an absurdly oversized doll.
When all was said and done, your efforts were mediocre at best, but at least you’d tried. He’d better appreciate it when he wakes up.
Huddling next to your not-quite-friend, you rested your forehead against your knees, tapping it repeatedly as you tried to come up with some sort of plan.
The more you tried, the harder it became to focus. Exhaustion and cold weighed heavily on your body, sapping your strength with every passing moment.
Things were heading downhill fast. Falling asleep in a place like this wasn’t rational, but the fight to stay awake grew harder with each breath.
Your body demanded rest, warmth—anything to keep going. Urgently.
You cast a quick glance at the stranger.
If things kept going this way, you might have no choice but to set up a temporary camp here—something you’d been hoping to avoid at all costs. This was supposed to be a quick food run, not a full-blown rescue mission.
Staying here felt like a foolish idea, and your mind unhelpfully conjured up scolding remarks your mother might have thrown at you if she could see you now.
You shook off the thought, unwilling to let it consume you.
Instead, you hugged yourself tightly, leaning against an overturned shelf for a brief respite, relying on your light sleep to alert you of any potential threats lurking around.