Tokyo, 2006
Tokyo's morning streets were already awake—traffic humming, crosswalks blinking, the air still carrying a faint chill from the night before.
A girl walked alone along the sidewalk, moving with the quiet steadiness of someone who never needed to rush.
Her hair was long and black, falling neatly down her back like a curtain. Behind black-framed glasses, her eyes held an unnatural color fluorescent pink and red, like light trapped behind glass.
Yet somehow, she blended in.
She wore the Renchoku Girls' Junior High uniform, crisp and proper, her school bag held casually at her side. If people passed her, they didn't stare. If they glanced, they forgot. It was as if her existence only became real when she decided it should.
Her name was Hanabi.
And she was walking toward school.
Halfway down the road, she slowed.
Not because she was tired.
Because she noticed something.
A narrow alley sat between two buildings—a place where sunlight barely reached, where the world seemed to grow quieter. The kind of space Tokyo had plenty of, but most people avoided without thinking.
Hanabi stepped into it.
The noise of the street dulled behind her, replaced by the faint drip of water somewhere deeper inside. Her shoes clicked softly against the concrete.
At the far end of the alley, a trash can sat slightly tilted, its lid crooked as if something had been forcing its way out from within.
Hanabi stared at it for a moment.
Then she bent down, picked up a small rock, and tossed it.
Clang.
The sound echoed.
For a brief second, nothing happened.
Then—
Something burst out of the trash can as if launched by a spring.
A creature, twisted and wrong, its body surrounded by an eerie, crawling aura. Its shape was hard to define—like a mass of limbs and teeth forced into a form that wasn't meant to exist.
It landed with a wet, scraping sound, then snapped its head in every direction.
"WHO DID IT?!" it screeched, voice sharp enough to sting.
Hanabi lifted a hand to her mouth.
Her eyes widened.
Her posture stiffened.
A perfect imitation of surprise.
The curse scanned the alley—then noticed her.
Its aura surged.
"So it was you!" it roared, and launched itself forward. "DIE!"
Hanabi's body trembled slightly.
Not from fear.
From something else.
A restrained anticipation—like a person holding back laughter at a joke no one else understood.
Slowly, she lowered her hand from her mouth.
And smiled.
Not the polite kind. Not the friendly kind.
The kind that made the air feel colder.
"You…" she said softly, as if tasting the word. "…could be useful."
She raised one hand, only slightly.
No dramatic gesture.
No chant.
No obvious sign of power.
Just a casual motion—like brushing dust from her sleeve.
The curse froze mid-lunge.
Its limbs jerked as if caught by invisible threads. Its aura flared wildly, but instead of expanding, it began collapsing inward.
The creature screamed—this time not in rage, but in panic.
Something was pulling it.
Not from the outside.
From within.
As if a hole had opened inside its own body and was swallowing it whole.
The curse struggled, clawing at the air, scraping the ground—
But the pull only grew stronger.
And then, in the span of a heartbeat, it was gone.
Vanished.
The alley fell silent again.
Only Hanabi remained, standing where she had been the entire time.
She tilted her head slightly, as if evaluating something that had disappointed her.
"Even if it's ugly," she murmured, voice calm, "it can still be used."
She turned and walked out of the alley as though nothing had happened.
Her shoes clicked once more against the concrete, steady and unhurried.
A faint smile lingered at the corner of her lips.
"I wonder…" she said, almost to herself, "…how much joy you can show me."
She sounded genuinely curious.
Like a child wondering what kind of toy she'd just found.
Then—
A sudden tap landed on her shoulder.
Hanabi stopped.
A voice burst out behind her, bright and annoyed.
"Hanabi! Why didn't you wait for me?!"
Hanabi turned her head slightly.
Standing there was a slim girl about the same age, wearing the same uniform. Her long dark hair was braided neatly down her back, and her expression was half irritation, half relief—like she'd been running just to catch up.
"Good morning, Riko," Hanabi said smoothly.
Her smile shifted instantly.
Now it was polite.
As if the alley had never existed.
Riko huffed, stepping into pace beside her. "You always do this. You walk like you don't even care if I'm there."
"I assumed you would catch up," Hanabi replied.
"That's not the point!"
Hanabi continued walking without changing her pace, her posture perfect—straight back, calm hands, composed expression.
Riko narrowed her eyes. "Hanabi-chan… you look really serious today."
Hanabi adjusted her glasses with two fingers, her voice steady.
"I'm the student president. I need to maintain professionalism."
Riko puffed her cheeks. "You say that like you're forty."
They walked together the rest of the way, until the gates of Renchoku Girls' Junior High came into view.
The school was already lively. Students gathered in clusters, laughter and chatter filling the air. The moment Hanabi stepped onto the grounds, the atmosphere around her subtly changed.
Girls straightened their posture.
Whispers quieted.
And greetings followed her like a wave.
"Good morning, President!"
"Good morning!"
Hanabi nodded in response.
Riko leaned in slightly as they walked. "By the way… Hanabi-chan, are you free after school today?"
Hanabi didn't look at her. "No."
Riko blinked. "You didn't even let me finish!"
Hanabi's tone stayed the same. "It won't change my answer."
Riko groaned dramatically. "Okay, fine. But I was gonna say karaoke."
Hanabi's steps didn't slow.
"I have something to do," she repeated.
Riko looked at her sideways, studying her. "Aren't you bored, Hanabi?"
Hanabi's gaze stayed forward.
"Karaoke is childish," she said calmly. "We're in school. This is the time we shape our future. Fun can happen anytime. This period only happens once."
Riko immediately raised both hands and covered her ears.
"Ughhh! I didn't ask for a life lesson!"
Hanabi didn't react. She simply continued walking toward the school building.
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A Few Years Earlier
It had been a few years since Hanabi first woke up in this world.
If she had arrived as a normal one of those ordinary people who couldn't see curses she would've assumed it was harmless. A clean, modern city. School uniforms. Gossip. Clubs. The kind of world that could easily become a romantic comedy if you tilted your head just slightly.
But Hanabi wasn't normal.
And this world didn't bother pretending.
The first thing that greeted her upon arrival wasn't sunlight or birdsong.
It was an eye.
A huge, floating eyeball—wet, veined, and unblinking—hovering inches from her face as if it had been waiting specifically for her to open her eyes.
Hanabi stared back.
Not frightened.
Not confused.
If anything… she looked entertained.
"…Oh," she whispered. "That's new."
Before she could stop herself, she raised her hand.
And poked it.
Her fingertip pressed into the slick surface like touching a raw fruit.
The curse shrieked—high and furious—jerking back as though she'd stabbed it.
Hanabi blinked.
Only then did she realize what she had just done.
That reaction wasn't something a normal person would have.
It wasn't even something she would have done.
It was impulsive.
Playful.
Almost… childish.
Her smile faltered for the first time.
She stepped backward slowly, then turned and slipped away from the alley she'd awakened in, her footsteps light and quick.
But the moment she reached the main street, she froze again.
There were more.
Not one curse.
Not two.
Dozens.
Some crawled along rooftops like insects. Some clung to traffic lights. Some stood in crowds like shadows, grinning with mouths too wide.
And none of the pedestrians reacted.
No one screamed.
No one ran.
No one even looked.
They walked straight through them like they didn't exist.
Hanabi stood still among the moving crowd, her glasses catching the city's reflected light.
And for the first time, her amusement shifted into certainty.
This wasn't her world.
This was—
"…Jujutsu Kaisen," she murmured.
The words tasted strange on her tongue.
As if she'd said the name of a story she never expected to step into.
She turned her gaze to the nearest glass building.
Her reflection stared back.
And she stopped breathing for a moment.
Long black hair.
Black glasses.
And eyes—pink and red, vivid as neon.
A face she recognized instantly.
A face she couldn't forget.
Because it belonged to her favorite character.
Hanabi.
A member of the Masked Fools.
A girl who lived for amusement, for chaos, for the thrill of bending reality into something fun.
And now…
That girl was her.
Hanabi stared at her reflection for a long moment.
Then she smiled again—slowly, like someone accepting a gift.
"…So that's what this is."
Present Day Renchoku Girls' Junior High
The bell rang.
Class ended.
Students stood, chairs scraping against the floor as the room filled with casual chatter. A normal school day, with normal teenage problems.
Hanabi sat at her desk like she belonged there completely.
Riko leaned over from the side, already smiling like she'd been waiting all period to ask again.
"Hanabi-chan! After school—"
"No," Hanabi said immediately.
Riko froze. "You didn't even let me finish!"
Hanabi calmly packed her books. "Your suggestion won't change my answer."
"Ugh… fine! But I was gonna say we go have fun. Like karaoke. Or maybe the arcade!"
Hanabi's expression remained neutral, but her eyes narrowed slightly behind her glasses.
Not in annoyance.
In restraint.
"I have something to do."
Riko groaned dramatically, slumping onto Hanabi's desk like a dying actress.
"You're impossible. Aren't you bored, Hanabi?"
Hanabi didn't answer right away.
Because the truth was…
Yes.
She was bored.
She had been bored for years.
This world had a plot.
A story.
And Hanabi already knew it.
The curses, the deaths, the fights, the tragedies… all of it.
She knew who would suffer.
She knew who would lose.
She knew who would never make it to the end.
It was like watching a movie on repeat.
The only thing she didn't know…
Was how it would change if she interfered.
Hanabi's gaze drifted toward the classroom window.
Outside, Tokyo stretched endlessly beneath a pale sky. Cars moved like quiet insects. People walked, laughed, lived.
And curses crawled above them like stains the world refused to acknowledge.
Hanabi's lips curved.
The smile that appeared was not the polite one she wore as student president.
This one was wider.
Sharper.
Almost delighted.
"The plot is starting," she murmured.
Riko blinked. "Huh?"
Hanabi's smile widened further.
If the story was predictable…
Then all she had to do was rewrite it.
Just a little.
Just enough to make it interesting.
Hanabi's eyes gleamed.
Then—
"Hanabi?" Riko called again, tilting her head. "Are you listening?"
In an instant, Hanabi's expression reset.
The manic edge vanished as if it had never existed.
Her face returned to calm, composed, perfectly normal.
"No," Hanabi said flatly. "I won't go."
Riko puffed her cheeks. "Hanabi, you have no joy!"
Hanabi adjusted her glasses, her voice soft and precise.
"I have joy."
She stood, lifting her bag.
"I simply don't waste it."
Riko stared.
"…That's the weirdest thing you've ever said."
Hanabi walked past her.
And under her breath she added.
"Because if I let myself enjoy everything…"
Her footsteps paused for half a second.
"…I might get addicted."
Then she continued walking, leaving Riko behind with a confused expression and an uneasy feeling she couldn't explain.
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(A/n: JOY)