A rag soaked in vomit

It was mid-March, with a little time still left before school started in April.

Tokyo's cherry blossoms had yet to bloom. An early-spring chill lingered in the air, but the sun had grown less stingy. On the occasional clear afternoon, people in the streets would unconsciously slow their steps.

Yan Si had no such habit.

He couldn't sit still.

Or rather, he loved finding ways to amuse himself far too much.

The dorms at Jujutsu High were comfortable, but the surroundings were much too quiet-so quiet there wasn't even anyone for him to shoot the breeze with.

Suguru Geto lived next door, sure, but he was too serious. Teasing him was fun, but Yan Si couldn't fleece the same sheep all day, every day.

He occasionally ran into his senior, Mei Mei, but her habit of giving him a glance, saying something cryptic, and drifting away hardly counted as meaningful social interaction.

So Yan Si went out.

He went out quite often. So often that sometimes, when Suguru Geto knocked on his dorm door in the morning to invite him to breakfast, he found the door ajar and Yan Si already gone. Only a balled-up quilt remained on the bed, with a few long hairs left on the pillow.

Yan Si had all sorts of reasons for going out. Sometimes he heard there was a particularly good taiyaki shop in Asakusa and had to go judge it for himself.

Sometimes he saw on TV that a new electronics store had opened in Akihabara and wanted to browse.

Sometimes he had no reason at all. The weather seemed nice, perfect for a walk, so off he went.

And his constitution determined the "bonus entertainment" on these outings.

Wherever he went, as long as he stayed long enough, cursed spirits came looking for him.

They still came like moths to a flame, and Yan Si was that flame in the night. One, two, three, four-different grades, each ugly in its own distinctive way.

All coming to die.

The first time it happened, Yan Si had patiently observed the spirit, his beautiful, deep-purple eyes narrowing slightly.

The Grade 3 cursed spirit poked half its distorted head out from behind a convenience store sign, its cloudy eyes fixed on him as if confirming something.

Once it finished checking, it lunged. Yan Si had just bought a strawberry daifuku and hadn't even taken his first bite. He could only stuff it into his mouth and hold it between his teeth, freeing his hands to draw his boning knife.

One slash shattered the cursed spirit. The strawberry daifuku remained securely between his teeth as he mumbled, "Fucking hell. Great timing."

Ugly bastard. Ruined his appetite.

After enough encounters, he began to find it boring.

Cursed spirits were ugly, stupid, and hardly inventive in a fight. Aside from earning him a few points, they were basically mobs spawning by the roadside.

But who was Yan Si?

He was the sort of person who could find amusement even in boredom.

He discovered a new way to play.

Once these cursed spirits died, they became a pile of black debris. Nothing remained.

But what if he left one barely alive? What if he left it barely alive, then called the guy who could roll cursed spirits into balls and eat them?

The idea made Yan Si's eyes light up, his purple irises gleaming in the sunlight with the excitement of finding a new toy.

And so, a brand-new "Yan Si-style recreational activity" was born.

That afternoon, Suguru Geto was reading in his dorm. It was a textbook on basic jujutsu theory that Masamichi Yaga had given him in advance, saying he would need it once school began. He read attentively, occasionally writing brief notes in the margins.

Sunlight streamed through the window, casting patches of light and shadow across the pages. The only sound in the room was the turning of pages, a reassuring quiet.

Then his phone rang.

A name appeared on the flip phone's screen: Yan Si.

Suguru Geto stared at the name for two seconds. Yan Si never texted or called when he wanted someone. His preferred method of communication was knocking on your door, or simply opening his mouth whenever he ran into you in the hallway. Something as formal as a phone call wasn't really his style.

Suguru Geto answered.

The voice on the other end was as languid as ever, the endings drawn out in a Kansai dialect. He sounded as though he had just woken up-or hadn't woken up at all.

The background was noisy, with wind blowing and the distant sounds of cars and pedestrians. He was probably outside.

"Hey, Geto. Eaten yet?"

Suguru Geto closed his book and glanced at the clock on the wall.

Three thirty in the afternoon. Asking "Eaten yet?" at this hour meant either brunch or afternoon tea; it certainly wasn't a proper mealtime. Still, he answered honestly. "Not yet. Why?"

"Come have a bite?"

Suguru Geto fell silent for a beat.

He had a bad feeling. Yan Si sounded far too casual, as though inviting him to buy a bun at a convenience store.

But that very casualness made him suspicious. The number of times Yan Si had treated anyone to food could be counted on one hand, and there were always complications. Take that tempura last time: his allergic reaction had been bad enough, but it had come with four complimentary cursed spirits nearby.

"Where are you?"

"Over in Shibuya. An abandoned underground parking garage." Yan Si gave him an address.

Then he added, with obvious, undisguised anticipation, "I saved you something good."

Suguru Geto said, "...You went out again."

"What do you mean, again? I never went back." Yan Si sounded entirely justified.

Suguru Geto sighed silently, slipped his bookmark into place, picked up his jacket, and headed out.

A gentle mother was bound to be pestered by her child.

His current lodgings were some distance from Shibuya, but he had a flying cursed spirit, which made travel convenient.

Standing below the dorm building and releasing his cursed spirit, he suddenly realized something.

He had received a call out of nowhere, heard "Come have a bite," and somehow already started putting on his jacket.

He wasn't sure when he had developed this habit. But he was certain Yan Si had known he would come.

That was why people shouldn't be too good-natured. Give someone an inch, and they would take a mile.

The abandoned parking garage stood at the end of a small alley in Shibuya. Construction barriers blocked most of the entrance, and ordinary people didn't come this way.

As Suguru Geto walked down the ramp, the first thing he smelled was the dampness peculiar to underground spaces, mingled with dust and lingering traces of gasoline.

Then he heard a sound.

Not a cursed spirit's roar, but someone humming.

Yan Si crouched on the ground, the hem of his black trench coat trailing across the dusty concrete without a care. A sizable cursed spirit lay before him, hideous in appearance, with several cuts deep enough to expose bone across its torso. Black debris seeped from its wounds, but it wasn't quite dead.

The cursed spirit's presence was faint. It was barely clinging to life.

Yan Si himself crouched beside its head, one hand braced on his knee and the other holding the black boning knife, idly tracing circles on the ground with its tip.

He hummed a tuneless melody that sounded like something he had made up on the spot.

Hearing footsteps, he lifted his head and smiled at Suguru Geto, his smile dazzlingly white in the underground garage's dim light.

"You're here~"

He stood, stretched, and tipped his chin toward the half-dead cursed spirit, sounding as though he were saying, "Look, I saved you half a slice of cake."

"Take a look. Pretty good specimen, right?"

"Grade 3, almost Grade 2. Big, plenty of cursed energy. Damn fast, too. I chased it for two blocks before cornering it here. Could've finished it in one slash, but then I thought I'd save it for you. You can use it as a mount."

His expression was utterly sincere, as though he were saving a limited-edition wagashi or daifuku for a friend.

Suguru Geto stood where he was, looking down at the cursed spirit struggling to stay alive.

The cursed spirit looked at him with something that could almost be called grievance, as though Suguru Geto were the only one of these two humans who might listen to reason.

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. Yan Si was treating him to a meal...

So this was what he meant by "a meal."

This was the "bite" he had called Suguru Geto over to eat.

Suguru Geto realized that when Yan Si said "Come have a bite," he hadn't meant tempura, bread, or convenience store rice balls at all. He had meant this cursed spirit, slashed to within an inch of its life.

Suguru Geto said, "...This is the 'something good' you mentioned?"

"Yep."

Yan Si nodded with complete confidence, his purple eyes sparkling with a look that said, "Isn't it great?" "Alive, fresh, not even cold yet. Fatter than the ones I killed before.

"It's such a huge lump!"

"Go on, roll it up. Let me watch."

Suguru Geto remained silent for quite a while. He could refuse. He could tell Yan Si there was no need to leave them alive especially for him; if he needed cursed spirits, he could catch his own.

He could explain that absorbing cursed spirits through Cursed Spirit Manipulation wasn't a particularly pleasant sight. He didn't mind it, but he certainly didn't enjoy it. There was no need to save them for him like local delicacies.

But Yan Si crouched there, his outdoor jacket dragging through the dust, traces of cursed spirit debris still clinging to his fingers. His hair was a little disheveled; clearly, he really had run those two blocks.

This guy couldn't be bothered to run even when fighting four at once. If he could stand still and slash, he wouldn't take a single extra step. Yet he had chased a cursed spirit for two blocks just to save a "fresh" one for him.

Suguru Geto looked into Yan Si's sparkling eyes. Everything he wanted to say rolled around in his throat before finally becoming a very soft sigh.

"You don't need to save them especially for me next time," he said, his gentle attempt at dissuasion carrying little force. "I-"

"Roll it up."

Yan Si interrupted him, unwilling to hear another word.

Kind people got taken advantage of.

Come on, eat up, buddy.

Suguru Geto closed his eyes briefly, then resigned himself and extended his hand.

Cursed energy enveloped the Grade 3 cursed spirit in his hand. Its distorted body began to spin and compress, gradually shrinking into a black sphere the size of a fist.

Yan Si watched with keen interest from beside him, even crouching to lean closer, as though witnessing a fascinating cooking demonstration.

The moment the black ball formed, Suguru Geto lowered his head and swallowed it.

That expression. Suguru Geto's expression.

Suguru Geto's brow furrowed, the corners of his mouth dipped, and his Adam's apple bobbed. He wore that expression every time he swallowed a cursed spirit. It wasn't quite pain, but it was definitely unpleasant.

"Does it taste that bad?" Yan Si asked, tilting his head.

"...Would you like to try?" A rare hint of utter despair crept into Suguru Geto's voice.

"No, no. Aren't these all yours to enjoy? How could I steal your share?" Yan Si stood with a cheerful smile and brushed the dust off his knees before adding, "What does it taste like?"

Will that trigger the line?

Suguru Geto considered it. The disgust hadn't entirely faded from his face, but he answered earnestly. "...Like a rag used to wipe up vomit."

Hehe. Triggered the line.

"Oh, right. A classic flavor." Yan Si nodded, offering his assessment with grave solemnity. "Then next time, you could try pairing it with different dipping sauces. Might make it better."

Suguru Geto looked at him. "...Dipping sauces?"

"Yeah, like strawberry jam. Don't you think strawberry jam can cover up any weird taste? If that doesn't work, ketchup. Ketchup is one of the greatest inventions in human history."

"Strawberry jam and cursed spirits are already a strange combination."

"How will you know without trying? You need a spirit of exploration."

After all, he planned to buy "Cursed Spirit Manipulation" someday.

He could use little Geto as a test subject first.

Suguru Geto took a deep breath and decided not to continue the subject. He noticed a tear in Yan Si's sleeve, exposing the skin of his forearm.

Reverse Cursed Technique had healed the wound, but the clothes were still torn.

That meant the injury was new.

"Were you hurt?"

Suguru Geto tipped his chin toward the tear.

Yan Si glanced down at his arm as though only just noticing it. "Oh, this. I was running too fast chasing it and scraped myself on something. Rusty sheet metal, I think?"

"Good thing I have Reverse Cursed Technique, or I'd need a tetanus shot."

He spoke without a care, but Suguru Geto's gaze lingered on the red mark for two more seconds before shifting away.

He didn't say anything like "Be more careful next time," because it would be useless. He had already seen how Yan Si fought: all offense, no defense. If he got hurt, he healed himself with Reverse Cursed Technique, then went right back to slashing. Over and over.

Suguru Geto settled the cursed spirit ball he had just swallowed within himself, then looked up at the sky outside. The afternoon light was shifting toward dusk, and the chill in the air was growing stronger.

"Let's go," he said, his usual gentleness returning.

"We'll pass a convenience store on the way back. Didn't you say you wanted that new pudding?"

Yan Si nodded lazily, put the boning knife away in his system storage, clapped his hands clean, and hurried to catch up with Suguru Geto.

"Yeah, that caramel pudding. It was sold out last time I went. They should've restocked today, right? What if it's sold out again?"

"Then we'll try another store."

"What if that one doesn't have it either?"

"...Then we'll buy it tomorrow."

"What if it's sold out tomorrow too? Have you considered that possibility? Selling out two days in a row means this product has a serious imbalance between supply and demand. We should write a complaint to the convenience store's headquarters. Geto, you're good with words. You write it."

"I'm not writing it."

"Why not? Aren't you a model student?"

"Model students aren't responsible for writing complaints."

"Then what are model students responsible for?"

Suguru Geto paused and turned to glance at Yan Si. Yan Si was watching him with his head tilted, his purple eyes faintly luminous in the afternoon sunlight and his lips curved upward. Clearly, he was waiting for a response so he could keep the nonsense going.

"Being verbally tormented," Suguru Geto said.

Yan Si blinked, then laughed. His laughter echoed briefly through the empty parking garage entrance before being swallowed by the noise of the street outside.

It was already evening when they returned to Jujutsu High.

They said goodbye in the hallway and went to their respective rooms.

Suguru Geto closed his door, hung his jacket over the back of a chair, and sat on the edge of his bed for a while. Then he pressed a hand against his stomach.

Swallowing cursed spirits always tasted revolting. A rag used to wipe up vomit-that was an apt description.

His eyes lowered as he thought of the guy who had chased a cursed spirit for two blocks, scraped himself, and still crouched beside it with a cheeky grin, waiting for him to arrive.

You don't need to save them especially for me next time.

He had said it, but he knew Yan Si wouldn't listen.

That guy never listened.