บท 8: Chapter 8: The Games
"Slow down, Kurogane! What's wrong?" I try to restrain his feral outburst.
"THIS IS GOING TO BE THE BIGGEST GOODWILL EVENT EVER!" Kurogane screams, frothing at the mouth. Kitani dramatically leaps from the second floor of the lobby and uses his technique.
"FALL!" Kitani shouts as Kurogane is restrained to the floor. "Is he randomly fighting people again?" Kitani asks, sounding annoyed.
"Not this time," I place my hand on his arm. "Something about the Goodwill event." Kitani rolls his eyes.
The campus has been making a big deal about this year's Goodwill event. It used to be exclusively between the two sister schools, but recently more schools have appeared worldwide. Nearly every country has at least one school. I wonder why there aren't any well-known sorcerers in America?
"They'll have European fighters, Korean fighters, Chinese fighters, SO MANY FIGHTERS!" Kurogane's demented obsession snaps me back to reality.
"Hey, do you know if America will be involved?" I hunch over Kurogane's fidgeting body.
"Well, Mani, you know America doesn't even acknowledge the Jujutsu Society," Kitani says empathetically. "But hey, there are always exceptions, like you." He smiles faintly.
"WE HAVE TO MAKE THE TEAM!" Kitani relinquishes his hold on Kurogane as we both jerk our heads back.
"We're just first years!" Kitani screams at him. Kurogane raises an index finger.
"But with Sensei's blessing, we'll be able to attend." Kurogane readjusts his clothes.
"Let's do it." Adrenaline starts rushing through my veins. I wouldn't say I'm as ecstatic about fighting as Kurogane, but there's definitely a strange allure to it. I can't explain it.
"There he is!" Kurogane slams his hand against my back. We eagerly await Kitani's response.
He begins rustling his hair angrily. "Fuck it, let's give it a shot."
Our hands collide into a mighty slam, sending energy surging through my veins. We're really gonna shoot for it.
"Hey, you kids," came a deep, gravelly voice, cutting through the chatter and halting us in our tracks. The command in his tone was unmistakable, tinged with a weariness that seemed to echo around us. As I turned, my eyes settled on him, a slender man dressed in a casually tailored black suit. His face was framed by a peppering of stubble, and under the dim hallway lights, his eyes looked incredibly tired, shadowed yet piercing.
"Yo, what's up, you guys?" Suddenly, all the fear I felt a moment before dissipates.
"How's it hangin', Sensei Saito?" Kitani and Sensei Saito embrace each other as if they were best friends.
"Not much, man, just on my break," he scratches his head, laughing, then turns his sunken eyes to me. "Who's this gnarly-looking guy? Gotta say, man, I love the hair."
My heart skips a beat as I observe his easygoing attitude and suave allure. He's so different from the other teachers, so effortlessly cool. I manage to muster an awkward smile. "Thanks, I really appreciate it, Sensei," I say, fidgeting with my hands. Why am I so nervous? It's just a compliment. Maybe it's because someone like him, someone so powerful and respected, actually noticed me. It makes me realize that things are so different here. Before, I never knew if people even knew who I was. Now it seems like I really matter.
"Come join me for a bit." We follow Sensei Saito outside, the cool evening air refreshing against my skin. He lights a cigarette, the ember glowing faintly in the dim light. Kurogane finally catches up, still grumbling under his breath.
"You kids ever hear about the Culling Games?" Saito asks, exhaling a plume of smoke.
"The Culling Games? That's ancient history," Kitani says, leaning against the wall.
"Not quite," Saito replies, his eyes locking onto mine. "Especially for you, Mani."
A shiver runs down my spine. "What do you mean?"
Saito takes a deep drag of his cigarette. "Years ago, Kenjaku came to America and wreaked havoc on a military base. He killed many innocent soldiers and government personnel to construct a super-cursed spirit. The government covered it up, didn't want the world to know about the supernatural forces at play. But the curse didn't just disappear after Sensei Okkotsu eliminated him. It got scattered, fragmented, and those fragments manifested in various ways."
I feel a knot forming in my stomach. "And... one of those fragments..."
"Yeah," Saito nods. "One of those fragments is the source of your Banshee curse."
My mind races. I've never had an intent to kill until Detroit got attacked. Could that have been a trigger that initiated its manifestation? But even then, it's not like I didn't want to kill my dad before that.
"The Banshee is a manifestation of sorrow and rage," Saito continues. "It's a powerful curse born from the remnants of that super-cursed spirit. That's why your abilities are so potent, Mani. You're carrying a piece of Kenjaku's legacy."
Kitani's eyes widen. "No wonder you're so strong, Mani. But wouldn't that make America want to acknowledge the Jujutsu Society, to stop city-wide threats like that?"
Saito sighs. "Because they're scared. They don't want to admit that they couldn't handle the supernatural threat. They buried the incident, hoping it would fade into obscurity. But the curses left behind have only grown stronger, more dangerous."
"So, there are more people like me?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
Saito nods. "Possibly. The remnants of the super-cursed spirit are scattered across America. There could be other individuals unknowingly harboring powerful curses."
My curse isn't just a burden; it's a remnant of a catastrophic event, a fragment of an ancient evil."
So, what do we do?" Kurogane asks, his serious expression unwavering.
"We observe," Saito says firmly. "This Goodwill event could possibly help us further understand how different cursed energy is used in different countries. Because the more we understand about these curses, the better we can fight them."
He looks at me, his tired eyes filled with a strange mix of sympathy and determination. "And Mani, you have the potential to be one of the strongest sorcerers of your generation. Embrace your curse, learn to control it, and use it to protect others."
A newfound resolve fills me. Now that I know there could be more people like me who aren't in the same grace as me, I'll become stronger. For myself and for them.
"By the way," Saito says, whisking away his cigarette. "You have my blessing to partake in the tournament."
"But doesn't Sensei Inumaki have to give the okay?" I ask, tugging Kurogane's arm.
"We have multiple teachers. Haru Inumaki isn't our one and only teacher," Kurogane rubs his chin. "So I guess... we're allowed to go?"
We stare at each other for a bit before celebrating in the courtyard.
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