The Next Day
At noon, with the sun high in the sky, Natsubi Raku dressed in a black kimono, bowed three times to his parents’ remains. The scene was filled with neighbors, all dressed in black suits, standing silently in mourning.
After the moment of silence, they approached Natsubi with words of encouragement, saying, “From now on, you’ll be alone at home. Be a man.”
Seeing these neighbors, whom he was not very familiar with, he wondered why they displayed such deep sorrow, as if they shared his feelings.
Was it emotional resonance?
Perhaps in his previous life, he harbored ill feelings toward his parents—no, it was outright loathing. Or maybe it was because he studied medicine and had a more detached view of life and death. Or it could be that he internally believed these two weren’t his real parents, making it impossible for him to feel true sadness. Instead, he observed everything as a bystander.
This world was full of threats. Although he didn’t know exactly where he was in the “Jujutsu Kaisen” storyline and had forgotten most of the plot, following an invincible figure like Satoru Gojo ensured he wouldn’t die.
After all, having a detached view of life and death was one thing, but wanting to die was another. Who would want to die when they could live well?
As the funeral ended, the onlookers gradually left.
Natsubi Raku took a deep breath as he looked at his parents’ tombstone. He walked up and gently touched the engraved words, saying in a low voice, “I’m grateful to have had parents like you. I will cherish this body well. Let me take a photo for remembrance.”
He then took out his phone and took a selfie with the tombstone’s black-and-white photo. After saving the photo, he stood up, folded his black kimono, and placed it in front of the tombstone.
Dialing Satoru Gojo’s number, he said, “I’ve finished here. Please come pick me up. Thank you.”
“So soon?”
Satoru Gojo was sitting on a sofa, holding two reports. After glancing at them, he put them on the table and continued, “I thought you would stay for a couple of days. You are…”
The reports on the table were Natsubi Raku’s and one for a person named Yuta Okkotsu.
Having finished the call, Natsubi Raku sat on a bench by the roadside, observing the passersby. Some of them had strange-looking curses attached to them.
One looked like a newborn child with two pairs of black eyes and a hint of crimson pupils, clinging to a man’s neck, constantly calling out, “Father, daddy, papa…”
Another resembled a centipede but had a human female’s head, its body tightly coiling around a man, whispering venomous words, “If I die, you won’t have peace, no, no, no, no…”
Yet another looked like a small cat, calmly perched on a woman’s head, its black tail swaying freely, seemingly expressing its mood.
“So these are curses…”
Natsubi Raku pondered the original host’s memories. Although his earlier memories were fragmented, the past two years were still vivid.
He was just an ordinary high school student—ordinary to the core. His exam scores were average, and he wasn’t particularly good at sports. However, his appearance was passable, often exuding a nonchalant demeanor.
The so-called show-off.
Logically, someone like him, even if he awakened during a crisis, shouldn’t have caught Satoru Gojo’s eye. What was the reason?
Moreover, the process of killing the curse last night was still fresh in his memory. The world in front of him had suddenly slowed down, and his eyes seemed to be filled with a mysterious power, revealing the curse that was previously invisible.
In that moment of intense emotion, everything about the curse appeared laughably slow and full of openings.
Crimson cursed energy unconsciously covered his body, and then the curse inexplicably died on the spot, causing him to pass out.
All clues pointed to his eyes.
Natsubi Raku looked at his reflection on his phone screen, seeing no change in his black pupils. However, he could feel an inexplicable force within him.
He knew this should be cursed energy. Last night, after sending off Satoru Gojo and the others, he tried to manipulate this power but failed every time.
It was like mud, difficult to control.
“Hey, are you the new transfer student?”
A crisp, straightforward female voice called out.
Natsubi Raku looked up to see a girl in a black uniform with green hair tied into a ponytail, holding a phone and comparing his appearance to a photo.
“If you mean Jujutsu High, then yes. My name is Natsubi Raku.”
“I’m Maki Zenin. I’m here to pick you up. Honestly, my first impression of you is pretty average.”
Maki Zenin, huh…
So this is the timeline where Yuta Okkotsu, the main character, hasn’t enrolled yet.
Looking at the pink-glasses-wearing Maki Zenin before him, Natsubi Raku grinned, stood up, and extended his right hand, saying, “If you find me so weak, then please protect me unconditionally. After all, I’m really weak.”
“…”
Maki Zenin was momentarily speechless, not knowing how to respond. The message from Satoru Gojo on her phone was very clear: the boy in front of her had great potential. Her earlier statement was meant to provoke him into revealing his strength.
This straightforward admission—was it really okay…
Natsubi Raku didn’t care what she thought. His immediate goal was to cling to strong allies for survival. This place was genuinely dangerous, and without powerful allies, he could easily die.
Maki, with her strong presence, was a perfect ally for him to rely on.
“Ahem!”
Maki Zenin coughed twice and said, “Follow me. I’ll take you to Jujutsu High.”
“Got it!”
As Natsubi Raku followed Maki, he asked, “It looks pretty big. How old are you this year?”
“Fifteen.”
“Fifteen, huh. You’ve developed well. What do you usually eat?”
“Fast food.”
“Fast food? Why not cook for yourself?”
“Too much hassle. You ask a lot of questions!”
“I’m just concerned about your health. Eating too much fast food isn’t good for you. How about I become your chef? Just fifty thousand yen a month, very cheap!”
Natsubi Raku was now leveraging his culinary skills from his previous life.
“…”
Maki Zenin, speechless, said, “Cheap, my foot! If you want a beating, just say so.”
Natsubi Raku waved his hand and said, “Isn’t it cheap? My cooking skills are on par with a three-star chef’s. This is just the cost of ingredients; I’m barely making any profit.”
Just as he finished speaking, Maki Zenin stopped, her brown eyes staring straight at him, her fists clenched as if ready to hit him.
“Let me tell you, a gentleman uses his words, not his fists. I’m concerned about your health. Don’t waste a good pair of eyes.”
Natsubi Raku retreated as he spoke. He knew his combat skills were lacking. Being a medical student aiming to save lives, why would he want to fight?
He was fully aware of his own limitations in combat.
Maki Zenin, seeing Natsubi retreat, sighed and took out a 5,000-yen bill, handing it to him, saying, “Buy the ingredients and cook for me. If it’s not good, you’re done for.”
“Of course, if it’s not good, you can beat me up.”
Natsubi Raku took the money, his eyes filled with confidence, as if to say, “Trust my cooking.”
Hey, this could be a future income source—cooking and earning money effortlessly. Perfect!
One person, fifty thousand yen; two people, one hundred thousand; three people, one hundred fifty thousand. Even without being a jujutsu sorcerer, he could make a living running a restaurant!
This start didn’t seem too bad.
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