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A witch lives in these woods.
No one who enters the woods is seen again.
A witch lives in these woods.
She sings with spirits and communes with the dead.
A witch lives in these woods.
Curses befall anyone who gazes upon her, for she is both beautiful and terrible.
A witch lives in these woods.
And she was destined to ruin.
*
An assortment of tales of the witch in the woods followed Satoru as he traveled to the village. When he had first heard word of this mysterious witch, it hadn’t interested him much. More than likely, it was either a curse that mimicked the likeness of a human or a low-level curse user who used parlor tricks to con ignorant villagers. Such was the way of tales with little substance. People were eager to trade stories and whisper in the dark, but there was little to nothing to back them up.
Stories of a witch in the woods were beneath Satoru. He had far more pressing matters on his mind, namely, the threat of powerful curse users aligning themselves with a growing calamity of a curse. There were many strong sorcerers in their era, though none came close to him, but if his enemies were to combine…
Satoru stretched the limits of his cursed energy, testing it out of reflex whenever he grew restless. He had known this battle with Sukuna would come to a head eventually, both their powers too great to exist at the same time, but he’d never thought that he might not be enough. And then what would become of Japan? Would it collapse at the height of its power under the heavy weight of Sukuna’s devastation?
He needed something to clear his mind, and so when another sorcerer came to him with yet another tale of this witch, he decided to do something about it. He couldn’t allow a curse user to roam freely even outside of his lands. That was where he’d failed before. He’d allowed an enemy to live – out of weakness, out of love – and now it looked like it might be his undoing.
But this new tale piqued his interest, something with a bit more meat to chew on.
The curses that roamed the woods had grown incredibly stronger over the years, to the point where nearby villages had scrambled together money to pay sorcerers to cleanse them. They never returned. It was one thing for commonfolk to vanish, but trained sorcerers as well? No, that was no simple curse. Something, or rather someone, was in the woods, someone dangerous. And how had the curses grown so strong?
That was another part of the tale. This little witch had the ability to make them stronger.
Whispers of this talent had spread throughout the land, intriguing sorcerers. Tempted by the thought of more power, they eagerly took on the task of dealing with this witch. Even a son from the Kamo clan had ventured into those woods, claiming to seek a bride in hopes of gaining an advantage to become the next head, but he had disappeared as well.
Finally, when the whispers grew too loud and landed at his feet, Satoru decided he could ignore them no longer. He would deal with this witch before she could become another enemy. If she had such an ability to make others stronger, he could not allow her to fall to the other side.
The woods stretched up into the side of a mountain, casting a shadow over the village. Satoru had noticed it the second he arrived. Cursed energy pulsed from the edges, putting everyone on edge. Men walked with their shoulders hunched, women with their eyes averted, children either too restless or too quiet. The stench of curses was too thick. Something was wrong here.
And yet…
Something else lingered in the air – a brightness that cut through the dark like cracks in a vase. Satoru spotted it underneath the darkness, taken aback by the beauty amidst the ugliness.
Interesting indeed.
When he asked about the witch, villagers flashed him worried looks and spoke under their breath as if they were afraid she would overhear and punish them. Sometimes, they said nothing at all, turning and walking away without speaking a word. The village was grey and dull, life struggling under the weight of the shadow, people thin and animals thinner, with half-dying crops. Even clouds seemed to hang permanently over them, but it never rained.
Cursed, he thought. This place was cursed.
But by who?
On the other hand, the woods were lush with life, the trees covered in rich green leaves and colorful plantlife spattered like paint. It looked the opposite of cursed, blessed by the gods. Still, even though it had to be filled with food, none of the villagers dared to enter, every path barred with warnings and talismans. Whenever he stepped close, people were quick to warn him away from it.
Beware of the witch in the woods.
But Satoru only smiled. It had been a very long time since he’d had to be afraid.
And so he stepped past the barrier and entered the woods, much the horror of the villagers.
*
For the first twenty years of her life, she was known as Uta.
The curses gave her a new name.
Their otherworldly voices called to her. It had frightened her in the beginning. She would curl up in the corner of the rundown shrine, tucked away in the only spot that shielded her from the rain, flattening her hands over her ears to block their strange sounds. It hadn’t worked, so she did the only thing she could think to do, the one thing that soothed her nerves.
She began to sing.
Slowly, their haunting noises faded. The curses hung around the broken shrine, entranced by her voice, swaying with the breeze. They did not come closer, simply listening, hanging on her every note. When she stopped singing, a curse trilled out, a request for more, and so she started another song, singing until she no longer could and fell asleep. When she woke the following morning, she was covered in the tattered cloth, but she was no longer cold.
From then on, she was Utahime, the name following her in trills and growls and cries.
With her new name, the shrine became her home. She fixed it up as best as she could, clearing out the rubble and sweeping it clean with a branch. The curses watched her, curious and hungry, eager to hear her songs. She retrieved water from a nearby creek and bathed in a small pond further down the mountain. She lived off the land, finding fruit and other plants to eat. Sometimes, when she returned, she found an animal waiting for her at the foot of the shrine, freshly killed but uneaten. She built fires, to cook and to stay warm.
Still, the curses lingered on the edges, watching, listening, waiting.
Until finally, the largest of the curses showed its face. It dragged itself out of the mouth of a nearby cave, ravenous and dark, ugly as only a monster could be. Many people had died due to this curse. Travellers passing through. Villagers that wandered too close to the forest’s edge. Its hunger could only be sated, never fulfilled, which was why she had been dragged here kicking and screaming.
They had thought her sacrifice would satisfy it for a time. Her own family had turned against her. If they could not appeal to the gods for help, then perhaps they could plead with a devil. They tried to frame it as an honor, insisting her sacrifice would save the village. Her mother wouldn’t even look at her when she was taken out of their home, bowed too low to raise her eyes and watch as her only daughter was dragged away.
Utahime stared at the curse now as it stepped onto the shrine’s grounds, its large mouth dripping with saliva, rows and rows of sharp teeth gleaming in the moonlight. How many people had it killed? How many others had been sacrificed to this curse in hopes of ending it? Even the other curses shrank away from it in fear, hiding in the bushes and trees.
It stopped before her, its multiple eyes locked on her, and she looked back.
Instead of feeling crushed under the weight of her fear, a simple realization struck her: this curse was strong, yes, and had killed many before her, but when she measured the weight of its energy, she found it less than hers. She was stronger than the curse.
It laid down at her feet and croaked a single word: “Sing.”
And so she did, and the woods bent to her song.
*
Because of his immense amount of cursed energy, Satoru had learned to shield himself early on. Infinity not only barred the entire world from him but allowed him to hide in plain sight. He could bring an entire room of people to their knees by flexing his cursed energy alone – curses, even strong ones, fled from him with a flicker of his power – but sometimes, it was better to keep a tight cap on it, to keep both his enemies and allies unaware of his truth strength.
He did that now as he traisped through the woods, hiding himself so carefully that not even the curses that haunted these woods were aware of his presence.
The shrine was buried deep, forgotten, left to ruin and abandon, but instead of the broken place he expected, he found something much more pleasant. It wasn’t much, but it was clearly made to be a shelter, refashioned into something new. Mismatched scraps of a home hung around the place, items obviously stolen from passerbys who had the misfortune of crossing paths with curses, but it was tidy and organized.
More importantly though, it was filled to the brim with cursed energy, every inch of the place imbued with the most beautiful glimmer he’d ever seen. Such energy did not belong to a curse, though he could sense them all around him, including a massive monster in a nearby cave. No, this cursed energy belonged to a sorcerer.
There was a flare of cursed energy behind him, and the sound of a twig snapping underfoot.
Twisting his head, Satoru found a young woman standing behind him. She was wielding a knife, a cursed weapon with a sigil on the hilt that he recognized from a minor clan. It had once belonged to another sorcerer, one who had likely come here and never returned.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
Satoru held up his hands. “I’m only passing through.”
“This is far off the path.”
“I was curious.”
The woman scoffed. “Curiosity is dangerous out here. You should not have strayed so far from the path.”
“What’s dangerous?” Satoru asked.
“You don’t know what’s out here.”
Satoru smiled. “Besides you? I hardly think that’s much of a threat, especially with such a pitiful knife.” She glared up at him, but he chuckled. “Go on then. Stab me.”
The woman jabbed the knife like she meant to pierce him, but it didn’t touch him, the tip breaking against his wall of Infinity that shielded him. She instantly jolted, stumbling back and gawking at him in shock. Before she could fully realize what happened, he pulled off the cap of his cursed energy, allowing some of it to spill from him and wash over her.
“Oh, you’re–” She sucked in a gasp. “You’re a sorcerer.”
“I am indeed,” Satoru replied, “and as are you, little witch.”
Instead of dropping the knife and running away, she gripped the handle with both hands and held it out in front of her, more like a shield than a weapon. “Leave this place. You are not wanted here. You’re trespassing.”
“Trespassing?” Satoru glanced around. “Is this place yours? Are you its sacred shrine maiden?”
“This is my home,” she declared.
“Not much of a home, is it?” Satoru hummed thoughtfully. “You don’t even have a complete roof over your head. Do you live out here like an animal? Why? There’s a village down the mountain.”
“I would sooner die than return to that village,” the woman spat. “I was given to this place, so I made it my own. This is my home.”
Satoru tilted his head. “Given?”
“A sacrifice, to rid them of a curse.”
“You must not have been a very good sacrifice,” Satoru pointed out. “Sacrifices aren’t supposed to be alive.”
The knife trembled in her hands. “Are you here to kill me?”
“That depends,” Satoru replied. “How many people have you killed, witch?”
“I haven’t killed anyone,” the witch told him.
“Then what about all the tales of people going missing?” Satoru asked.
“As I said before, the woods are a dangerous place,” she answered. “People go missing all the time.”
“Including the sorcerer whose knife that belonged to?” Satoru countered. “It is not only commonfolk who have gone missing. You have made an error in preying on sorcerers.”
“I didn’t prey on anyone,” the witch insisted. “I was protecting myself, defending my home.” Her grip on the handle tightened, turning her knuckles white. “All I ask it to be left alone. I was abandoned here to die, so the least others can do is leave me to live.”
Satoru considered his options. On one hand, it was true that sorcerers and commonfolk had died in these woods, but on the other hand, he could tell that she was also telling the truth. It wasn’t uncommon for the ignorant to try to appease curses with gifts. She would not be the first girl gifted with cursed energy to be sacrificed. Unfortunately for the villager, their sacrifice had backfired on them, damning them further.
He could not fault her for hating them, nor could he judge her for protecting herself.
But people had still been killed, so a judgment must be passed.
“Are you alone?”
It was only a second, but she hesitated, her cursed energy ticking upward. “Yes.”
Satoru clicked his tongue. “That was your first lie.”
“No other person lives in these woods,” she argued. “It is only me.”
“I didn’t ask if another person lived here,” Satoru said. “I asked if you were alone.” He looked around the woods, able to pinpoint all the little curses hiding around them. “And you are very much not alone.”
She stiffened. “I–”
“Curses are drawn to broken things, places and people,” Satoru explained. “You may not have killed anyone, but they have blood on their hands.” He lifted a single finger, cursed energy bursting to life at the tip. “Curses must be exorcised to cleanse this land. It is only fair.”
“No!” she gasped, dropping the shattered knife and rushing forward. “Please don’t!”
“You defend them, little witch?” Satoru asked. “Are you conspiring with curses?”
“I-I haven’t–” She tried to grab the front of his yukata, but was once again barred by his Infinity. She struggled to grapple with the difference, but he didn’t flinch, gazing down at her with a blank expression. “Please, they are… They are my friends.”
“Friends?” Satoru scoffed. “That would mean you have turned your back on Jujutsu and chosen the path of a curse user.”
“They have protected me,” she insisted. “From men who would hurt me, and sorcerers who would use me.” Her hands fell away from him, and she bowed her head. “Others have come before you, and I turned them all away, but they would not leave. The curses only attack if I am threatened, and I make sure they never wander too close to the village.”
“So, if you were to tell them to attack me, they would listen?”
She swallowed. “Maybe, but I won’t call for them.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’ll kill them,” she said. “You’re stronger than the others.”
“So you’d sacrifice yourself for them?” Satoru asked. “For curses?”
She lifted her gaze, looking him in the face. “If I must.”
“Interesting.”
Satoru had entered these woods to deal with a witch, but instead, he found something far more intriguing. Despite living side-by-side with curses, this woman was not a curse user, at least not in the normal fashion. He sensed no ill-will from her, no darkness that threatened her soul, only a person who had lost their faith in humanity and fought to live as best as they could.
“How about a deal?”
She blinked. “A deal?”
“If you stop the curses from harming others, I will see to it that you are not bothered again,” Satoru offered. “Sorcerers will not seek you out, and you will be allowed to live freely. These woods will become a safe haven for everyone.” He held out his hand. “What do you say?”
Warily eyeing his hand, she muttered, “You can’t promise that.”
“I can,” Satoru told her. “Do we have a deal?”
She reached out to shake his hand, pausing when she felt the pulse of Infinity humming between them. “Who are you?”
“You may call me Satoru.” He flashed her an impish smile. “And what am I to call you, little witch?”
“I was born with the name Uta,” she replied hesitantly, “but the curses call me Utahime.”
“Utahime,” Satoru drawled, testing the name on his lips. “I’m assuming you can sing then.”
“I can.”
Satoru nodded. “Then I’ll have to hear it for myself the next time I visit.”
Her eyes widened. “Visit? But you said I would not be bothered again.”
“By other sorcerers,” Satoru corrected, “but I must make sure you continue to uphold your end of the deal.” He took her hand and tugged her forward, causing her to gasp when she nearly collided with him. There seemed to be flecks of gold in her honey brown eyes. “As long as you behave, little witch. I look forward to hearing your song.”
*
A week passed since the strange sorcerer named Satoru unsettled her world. He had vanished as suddenly as he appeared, frightening her so much that she’d searched the area before telling the curses to come out. She didn’t know how he’d managed to get so close without her realizing it, especially when he flexed his cursed energy enough to steal the breath from her lungs.
She’d never experienced such power before, and something deep inside of her had yearned for it.
Utahime wasn’t sure if she could trust Satoru, but she had no other choice. It was obvious that he was far stronger than her, so she had to believe that he would shield her. She went about her life, making sure the curses that lived around the shrine did not bother travellers in the forest. Every time she felt the familiar flicker of cursed energy, she waited, but they never ventured close to the shrine, as if they didn’t notice its existence.
Slowly, life fell back into its normal routine. Utahime could almost forget about Satoru’s promise, breathing more easily again. Her hum came back to her, a simple song under her breath that made the littlest curses titter like woodland creatures, something she did without even thinking about it as she washed her clothes in the lower part of the creek.
“Hello, little witch.”
Utahime yelped, stumbling and falling back in the grass.
Satoru sat on a large rock in the creek, one leg propped up and the other hanging down so that his foot was close to touching the water. He was grinning like a fool, looking even more ridiculous with a bandage wrapped around his eyes. She wasn’t sure if he could see, or if he was blind, but it didn’t seem to matter, not when he could track her movements with his cursed energy.
“What are you doing here?” Utahime demanded.
“I came to check on you,” he replied, “like I said I would.”
Pressing her lips together, Utahime pushed herself back to her feet. “How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to know you do have a pretty voice,” Satoru said. “I can see why the curses like you so much – and why men are drawn too, especially sorcerers.” He tilted his head in a way that she could tell meant he was assessing her. “Your cursed energy is connected to your voice.”
Refusing to blush, Utahime picked up her clothes that she’d dropped halfway in the water. “I had not noticed.”
“You haven’t noticed how well these woods have flourished since your arrival?”
“The woods are a wild thing,” Utahime said. “I have no control over it.”
“And yet,” Satoru added, “the village you came from, the one that sacrificed you to these woods and curses, looks as if it is half-dead in comparison.”
“That is not my concern,” Utahime snapped.
“I thought you had cursed it, you know,” Satoru continued in a cool, conversational tone. She stiffened, refusing to look at him and give her fear away. “I would’ve understood your reasoning, of course, since they betrayed you so cruelly, but I would’ve had to do something about it. Curses like that, if left to fester, can grow to leave a scar so deep in the earth that it cannot be healed by a mere exorcism.”
Peering at him sideways, Utahime asked, “And now?”
“I can see it isn’t so,” Satoru told her. “You did not curse the village.” He leaned forward. “You have blessed these woods instead.”
Utahime furrowed her brow. “Blessed?”
“Ignorant fools,” Satoru sighed. “They condemned the very gift that helped their village thrive, and now they are suffering the consequences. They cursed themselves.”
Shaking her head, Utahime stood up and turned away from him to hang her wet clothes on a branch. “I am neither a gift nor a blessing. I’m no shrine maiden or a curse user either.”
“No,” Satoru hummed. “You’re something else entirely, little witch.”
Utahime threw him an annoyed look over her shoulder, but he only grinned back at her, entirely too pleased with himself over the nickname. She had been hesitant to give him her name, but what was the point of asking her if he was only going to refer to her by a nickname? Of course she knew what people outside of the woods called her. She didn’t care. The name gave her protection, convincing most people to keep their distance, but it also made others curious.
Like Satoru, who still hadn’t told her why he had come to these woods in the first place.
“Where are your little pets?” Satoru asked. “They were here a moment ago.”
“Hiding from you,” Utahime replied. “They are frightened of you. They fear you’ll kill them.”
Satoru laid a hand over his heart. “I will not exorcise them, as long as they continue to listen to you.”
Utahime sighed. “How can you believe that I have such sway over them?”
“Because you, my little witch, are stronger than you try to appear.” Satoru stood up on the rock and easily hopped over the water to land on the grass near her. “It’s a neat trick. You hide behind the cursed energy signatures of all the curses in the woods, especially that big one in the cave.” She sucked in a breath, unable to stop herself from glancing at him. “Yes, I know about it. That’s the curse that was haunting the woods – the one your village tried to sacrifice you to.”
“I… He…”
“A very nasty curse, to be sure,” Satoru stated. “It has killed many people, hasn’t it?”
Utahime swallowed thickly, her throat constricted with fear.
“But not you,” Satoru continued. “It protects you.”
He searched her for an answer that she did not have. She had never asked the curse to protect her, but it did, attacking anyone who dared to get close to her. She had to do a lot of arguing to convince it to back down from trying to engage with Satoru. As strong and old as the curse was, she knew he would exorcise it.
“Why is that?”
Utahime shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Because you have given it a better gift than anyone before,” Satoru told her. “Your cursed energy – it’s the sweetest treat for a curse. You’ve strengthened everything in the woods, including the curses, through your voice with a cursed technique.”
Turning away from him, Utahime huffed out, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But Satoru stopped her from leaving by snatching her wrist. “That is why sorcerers started seeking you out. Tales of your abilities began to spread. To the commonfolk, you appeared to be no more than a witch, but sorcerers began to figure out the truth.”
Alarm flashed across her face, but no matter how hard she tugged, his grip did not falter. “The truth about what?”
“That you could make them stronger,” Satoru said. “Hunger for power is something that can never be sated. The more powerful someone or something is, the more power they desire.”
“What about you?” Utahime demanded.
Satoru offered her a smile. “I cannot deny that there is something…tempting about your cursed energy. It’s beautiful, and that is not something I have ever said.” He let go of her wrist, letting his hand fall back to his side and allowing her to pull away from him. “But I’ve no need for more power, not when I’m the strongest.”
Utahime rolled her eyes. “Men always believe they are the strongest.”
He chuckled. “Of course.”
“Now, are you satisfied with your visit, or do you intend to watch me wash all my clothes?”
Satoru nodded. “I am satisfied.”
For now.
*
Every time Satoru visited Utahime, the curses fled as soon as they felt his presence. He didn’t bother hiding his cursed energy anymore, though he still appeared at random, startling Utahime every time. She yelped and jumped and even threw something at him once, but he couldn’t help himself with her. She reacted so strongly, like the sight of another person was stranger than a bunch of curses.
“Must you do that every time?” Utahime muttered, puttering around the shrine.
Satoru held his hands behind his back, following her with his blindfolded gaze. “Do what?”
“Appear out of thin air!” Utahime huffed. “You do it on purpose, to frighten me.”
“Are you frightened of me?”
Utahime paused, a kettle of tea held precariously in her hand. “No.”
He smiled. She probably should have been afraid of him. Many were, not just curses and curse users. He knew he had an unsettling affect about himself, scaring even commonfolk with his oddness. There was something about him that didn’t sit right, as if he didn’t belong in this world. It was his power. He was leagues ahead of everyone else. He moved through the world differently. He didn’t bend to it; the world bent to him. People were terrified of someone they couldn’t explain.
Except for this silly, little witch.
“Just your curses then?” he pressed.
“They’re not my curses,” Utahime replied as she poured two cups of tea. She’d gotten the leaves from a traveling merchant, something she’d never been able to do before their truce.
“Ah, yes, they’re your companions.”
She gave him a sharp look but handed him a cup of tea. It was sweetened just the way he liked it, if only because he had brought honey for her. She would’ve drank it with nothing had he not. What a horrid idea. She took a sip, then moved on, her bare feet brushing along the floor. Even though it was still in disrepair, she’d cleaned it up nicely. It wasn’t a house, but it was a home.
That was more than Satoru could say. Even though he’d grown up in the sprawling estate belonging to his clan, he had never viewed it as much of a home, not even when he was a child. If anything, it had been more of a cage, which was why he traveled so much now, spreading his wings as far as he could. At least out here, Utahime was free. He could admire that, especially after she’d been thrown away as a sacrifice.
“You can tell them to come out,” Satoru told her.
She made a noncommittal humming sound. He could sense all the curses lingering in the woods, watching and waiting. They edged closer with every visit, wary but curious. It was only natural for them to be terrified of him, but his presence also piqued their interest. In their twisted minds, they had never seen Utahime around other humans. It had only been her.
Their song princess.
Utahime whistled, a clean and clear sound. Her cursed energy brightened the air, bringing the woods to life. Slowly, curses began to appear, peeking out from their hiding places. Some of them could almost pass off as woodland creatures while others were ugly, monstrous things. His first instinct was to rid the earth of them, but he refrained, sipping the tea and watching them in return.
One curse resembling a bird flapped their four wings to land on Utahime’s perched finger and chirped at her in an unnatural double voice. He vaguely realized it was a question, but no actual word was spoken.
“He won’t hurt you.” Utahime flicked a look at him over her shoulder. “He swore.”
Satoru held up one hand. “On my honor.”
Utahime snorted. “As if you have that.”
“I’ll have you know that I’m very honorable,” Satoru replied.
“Prove it then.”
“And how shall I do that?”
Setting the cup of tea down, Utahime transferred the bird curse to the limb of a tree that had started to overgrow the shrine. “If you insist on bothering me with your visits, the least you can do is be of use instead of an annoyance.”
It was a struggle not to laugh. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had given him an order. People were either too afraid or knew their place beneath him. Even in his youth, he’d bossed others around. It had been a very long time since anyone had been so bold with him.
And yet here was this woman, who walked barefoot in the woods and lived in an abandoned shrine and sang with curses, telling him he was annoying her with his presence.
Satoru couldn’t help but be delighted, fighting a grin. “How can I be of use to you, little witch?”
Planting her hands on her hips, Utahime considered him for a moment, then said, “You can start by helping me repair the shrine.”
He held a hand over his heart and bowed. “As you wish.”
*
Over the next few weeks, the shrine was rebuilt. It could not be returned to its full glory, but it became something else, something more. Utahime could feel it coming back to life, cursed energy filling the place as the old wounds were sealed.
She wouldn’t have been able to do it without Satoru’s help, which she begrudgingly admitted. She hadn’t thought someone as obviously pampered and carefree as him would agree to do labor, but he was surprisingly skilled, even though he made an offhand comment about never building anything before when she asked.
“I’m good at everything,” he insisted with a wink.
The curses had been confused by it at first, probably having preferred the rundown shape, but they followed the two of them around, running between her legs and hanging from the gate and trees. They were still afraid of Satoru, but they didn’t all flee whenever he appeared now. He came twice a week, always unexpected and unplanned, with supplies and other little things that did not have to do with the shrine at all.
Another pot of honey when her supply was close to running out, a pair of sandals, even a new kimono. She knew better than to throw the gifts back in his face, even if she hadn’t asked for them, but she still frowned every time he presented her with something else.
Some of the other sorcerers before him, the ones who had sought her out, had brought things too, trying to tempt or even buy her. She did not tell him that, but she had an inkling that he knew whenever he spotted something too nice to belong in her little home in the woods.
It did not feel the same though. When Satoru gave her something, he asked for nothing in return. She struggled with that the most, especially when she still didn’t understand why he kept coming back to visit her.
“Ah, it’s so hot,” Satoru complained. “Must we keep working?”
“If you’re no longer having fun, you’re free to leave,” Utahime pointed out.
Satoru flashed her a pout. “What do you do out here for fun anyway? Play go against the curses?”
Utahime gave him a look, but she did not respond to him. In truth, whenever it grew this hot, she usually went for a swim, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. He would twist it into something else, and she didn’t want to deal with his teasing. She had learned to swim as a little girl and loved it, until one day she crossed paths with a curse, a spirit of a girl who had been drowned in the water. That curse had been one of the first she could remember encountering.
She wondered what became of that curse, if it was still haunting the waters or if a sorcerer had exorcized it. Back then, she hadn’t known how to deal with curses. Considering the way they hung on her every word now, maybe she still didn’t know, not in the way Satoru believed at least.
Movement caught Utahime’s attention, and she looked back at Satoru, only to choke on her words and gape when she saw him disrobing.
“Wha–? What are you doing?” she demanded, more alarmed than confused.
“It’s hot,” Satoru simply replied, tossing his clothes aside so that he was only dressed in a hakama.
His skin was pale, with not a single scratch on it, and his chest was defined. Of course he was a man, but she had not been faced with the fact so directly. His strength was on full display with his body, not just his cursed energy that simmered underneath the surface, making her feel small in a way she’d never experienced before.
A grin tugged at his lips. “You’re staring, little witch.”
Utahime quickly looked away. “And you are shameless. Where is that honor you spoke of?”
“There’s nothing dishonorable about this,” Satoru pointed out. “It’s only my body – a very good-looking one, yes, but nothing more than human.”
“You have no sense of modesty,” Utahime grumbled.
“Have you never seen a man like this?” Satoru asked. “Well, you’ve been living like a hermit with a bunch of curses for so long, maybe it’s true.” He clicked his tongue. “Hiding away in the woods, you’ve not experienced much of the world.”
Utahime rounded on him. “I’m experienced.”
The grin on his face broadened. “Are you?”
Straightening her back to stand up straight, Utahime poked him in the chest – or, well, she tried to, but was blocked by that strange invisible wall. “I don’t need you to judge me. I’m not ignorant.”
“Just innocent.”
“I’m not–”
One carefully placed finger under her chin stopped Utahime cold. The grin had fallen from his face, shifting into an unreadable expression. He tilted her head back slightly, exposing her throat, but it wasn’t the action itself that startled her. It was the touch. For the first time, he was actually touching her, and his skin was warm and soft. His thumb stroked the line of her jaw as he gazed down at her, his eyes still hidden by the blindfold.
It occurred to her, standing close enough to him that she could feel the way his cursed energy brushed against hers, that she had never seen his eyes. Somehow, she knew seeing them bare would be worse than his body.
“There’s no need to be shy or stubborn,” Satoru told her. “It’s only us.” She opened her mouth, but no words came out, and he chuckled. “Well, only us and dozens of curses.” He tilted his head. “Does it embarrass you for them to see you like this?”
“Like what?” she managed to ask.
“Human.”
“What about you?” Utahime countered. “You appear out of thin air and wave your power around, pretending to be some sort of god, but you’re just a man.”
Satoru didn’t react at first. His expression was still impassive. A tiny part of her, the part that had hidden herself away in the woods from the rest of the world, warned her to run. She hadn’t been afraid of him before, but suddenly, as he touched her now, she thought she might’ve been wrong to dismiss it. His cursed energy did not rise, but it was overwhelming regardless, making it difficult for her to breathe as hers reacted, like it was trying to burst from her.
“Just a man,” Satoru repeated.
Utahime pressed her lips together, refusing to back down or look away from him. She couldn’t tell whether he was intentionally trying to intimidate her or if he was playing another game, but she had learned early on in her time in the woods to face her fears. When that large curse had lumbered out of the cave that first night, she hadn’t run away. She stood her ground with the curse then, as she did with Satoru now.
He wasn’t that far off from a curse, if she thought about it.
Finally, a smile cracked through the ice, and Satoru laughed, the sound echoing in the woods.
Utahime shoved his hand away from her face, annoyed when she’d almost been afraid of him before. “What’s so funny?”
“You.” Satoru ran his fingers through his hair, musing it further with sweat, and let out a pleased sigh. “You’re such a silly, little witch.”
Bristling like a cat, Utahime balled her hands into fists at her side. “If you’re going to insult me–”
“No need to be so prickly,” Satoru chuckled. “You lose control over your cursed energy when you get worked up, and it’ll upset your poor, little curses.”
Somehow, Utahime managed to flush even deeper. “You’re so rude–”
“Yes, yes, I’m a terrible house guest, aren’t I?” Satoru teased. “Especially after you put me to work.” He gestured at himself. “Do you think I’m used to hanging out with curses or familiar with such hard labor?”
“I don’t think you’re familiar with any sort of labor at all,” Utahime grumbled.
To be honest though, she didn’t know. He’d been visiting her for almost three months now, once to twice a week, but she knew very little about him, not even his family name. Hell, she didn’t even know if Satoru was his actual name. She didn’t know his age, where he was from, or what he did when he wasn’t bothering her. All she knew was that he was a powerful sorcerer.
And just because he had promised not to hurt the curses of these woods did not mean he could not hurt her.
*
The villagers thought him mad. They were shocked that he had come out of the woods alive, even more so that he returned repeatedly. He had always been seen as strange, so it didn't phase him. All that mattered was that life was slowly returning to the village. They believed he had taken care of the witch, but in truth, he had done nothing to help them.
It was Utahime. She was growing stronger.
After buying food, he slung the bag over his shoulder and waved off the villagers, all of whom looked at him like he was insane. And maybe he was. What else could explain his fascination with this witch? By all rights, she was a curse user. She was an unaffiliated sorcerer who lived alongside curses and allowed them to hurt people. If he told anyone about her, they would tell him that she needed to be taken care of. The fact that he hadn’t could be seen as suspicious.
But even then, he didn’t find her to be bad. She wasn’t evil like other curse users. The only times other people were injured were when she (and the curses) were on the defensive. She had not only been abused but abandoned and left to die. The villagers had meant for her to die, but against all odds, she had survived with the very power they’d believed meant she was cursed.
She could’ve been angry. She could’ve been cold. She could’ve been cruel. Instead, she was compassionate. She was gentle. She was kind. Maybe others might not see it that way, but he watched the delicate way she treated the curses, how respectful she was of the rundown shrine, and how much care she took of the woods. It was in the beauty of her cursed energy. He’d never seen anything like it before.
How could something so beautiful be evil?
There was a lesson to be told, of course, one he could hear whispering in the back of his mind. Evil could hide under the guise of beauty just as easily as goodness could be mistaken for something evil.
But Satoru knew in his heart that he was right. Utahime had every right to be a curse user, but she wasn’t. His little visits were meant to ensure it stayed that way. Eventually, she would grow comfortable enough to leave the woods and rejoin society, but only with his guidance. She would see the light.
Before he could pass through the gates of the shrine, Utahime stopped him, holding up a hand. “You must pay your respects before entering.”
“It’s a good thing I brought offerings,” Satoru quipped, holding up the bag of fruit.
Utahime gave him a look that clearly said she didn’t believe him, but she stepped aside and allowed him to enter. This wasn’t exactly a proper shrine, especially since a bunch of little curses were running around, so she had no authority to keep him off the grounds. The curses didn’t skitter away from him anymore, but they made sure to give him space, watching him warily as they fluttered about.
It was strange. He’d been taught to exorcise all curses for as long as he could remember. He had never spent time with them, but Utahime knew each one of them by name. Just as they had given her a new name, she had named them as well, like little pets. They made all sorts of sounds, clicks and chirps and growls and more, but they always fell silent when she began to sing, even if it was a simple hum.
He hadn’t heard her sing properly. Even though he had been visiting her for months, she’d somehow managed to keep it hidden from him. It was almost impressive, but he was too curious to wait any longer.
“May I request something?” Satoru asked.
Utahime paused, looking over her shoulder to eye him warily. “What kind of request?”
“A song.”
Silence fell over the woods. It took a moment before she moved, shifting to face him, and though she did not say anything, he could see the fear in her eyes. That unsettled him, if only because it was another odd thing about her. Unlike everyone who he had crossed paths with, even members of his own clan and allies, she was not afraid of him. Wary, yes, and definitely confused, but aside from their first meeting when she’d begged him not to kill the curses, never afraid.
But here she was, looking at him with fear now.
“A song,” she repeated carefully.
“Yes, these curses have delighted in your music,” Satoru quipped. “Why can’t I experience the same?”
Utahime looked down at the curses sitting around her feet. They were watching her, waiting for her song, as she fiddled with the fresh fruit in her hands. After a moment of consideration, she let out a sigh and set the fruit down on the table he’d built for her last week.
“Fine,” Utahime said, “but I’ve no songs meant for great men.”
Satoru smiled. “Flattering me to get out of singing?”
“No,” Utahime murmured, turning away from him again.
There was a moment in which Satoru thought she might change her mind or even run away, but instead, after taking a deep breath, the first note of her song pierced the air.
Utahime was right. The song was nothing special. It wasn’t meant for gods or rituals, no importance to anyone. It wasn’t a song meant to invoke honor and respect, no grand overture. He vaguely recognized it as something a parent might sing to a child, but he couldn’t remember it ever being sung to him, just a song he’d overheard during his travels.
And yet…
Satoru’s eyes widened underneath his blindfold.
Utahime’s cursed energy glowed strongly around her whenever she hummed, but as she sang now, it burned from her, as strong as an inferno. It seemed to pour from her, flooding not only her but into the forest, erasing the darkness with her light. The trees moved as if wind passed through it, flowers bloomed, woodland creatures called out, even the curses grew.
He’d never seen anything like this before. He wouldn’t believe it if he wasn’t seeing it for himself, his Six Eyes tracking the energy as it sank into everything around it.
Including him.
Her cursed energy had brushed against the wall of his Infinity, which he’d expected, but what he hadn’t anticipated was the way it began to stitch itself into his cursed energy. He almost panicked, shocked that something could infiltrate his barrier, but then, he realized it wasn’t trying to get to his body. It was embedding itself into his cursed energy, the barrier growing thicker, and he…
Satoru sucked in a gasp.
The strength that rose inside of him, without him even calling to it, was so startling that he had to press a hand against a tree to stop himself from swaying. It was overwhelming. Satoru believed he knew what it meant to be strong, far more than anyone he’d ever met, but this was incredible.
This was the song that was calling to sorcerers and curses alike, pulling them toward with a momentum she couldn’t control, lulling them with the promise to become something that could surpass their dreams.
It was dangerous.
With great reluctance and strength, Satoru held up a hand. “That’s enough.”
Utahime cut herself mid-song, and the light of her cursed energy began to fade. A hesitant look came over her, but it wasn’t the same fear from before. “Oh, I’m sorry it didn’t please you. Was it not grand enough for you?” Folding her arms across her chest, she closed her eyes and looked away from him. “I told you it was nothing special.”
“You’re wrong.”
Scoffing, Utahime started, “What–?”
Only to cut herself off when Satoru cupped her cheek in one hand. Her eyes snapped open, widening even further when she realized that he had pulled his blindfold down to rest around his neck, revealing his bright blue eyes to her. She stared into them, nothing hidden, nothing darkened. The open vulnerability in her gaze delighted him as much as it warned him.
No one had ever looked at him like that before.
With a shaky breath, Utahime tried again. “What do you mean?”
“It was more than special,” Satoru told her, “and it pleased me very much.”
Too much, if he was being honest. He could sense it now – the urge to feel her cursed energy again, the desire for more. He had figured out that her cursed technique had brought life to the woods and everything in it, but he hadn’t understood the gravity of it until now. This kind of power was not one of strength but the promise of it, which was worse. Sorcerers and curses craved power, and she, with her song, could give it to them.
He doubted the weight of her abilities was known, or she would’ve never been able to hide for as long as she did, but these woods could not contain her forever. The truth had started to seep out, slowly but surely.
A strange feeling shot through Satoru’s chest, nearly stealing the breath from his lungs. Someone might say it was fear, but he’d never experienced it before, so he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that he didn’t like it, and he would do everything in his power to make sure he didn’t feel it again.
Utahime must’ve sensed the change within him because she reached out to him. “Satoru–”
He caught her by the wrist, stopping her from touching him. Infinity held strong, but for a moment, he’d wanted to drop it more than anything. He wanted to touch her. He wanted her to touch him, just as her cursed energy had.
Dangerous, a voice whispered in the back of his mind.
Perhaps she was a witch, and her song was an enchantment of the mind. That could explain why he found himself visiting her repeatedly.
“You must not sing again,” Satoru warned her.
Utahime furrowed her brow. “But you said–”
Satoru stopped her from arguing by running his thumb along her lips, the same lips he’d watched form words like incantations, the same lips he found himself drawn to now.
“Do not sing.”
With a frown, Utahime asked, “Is that another addition to the terms of your agreement?”
“Yes, it is,” Satoru replied.
Utahime jerked away from him, and he let her go, even if everything in him wanted to keep her close. She could not know that. If she did, she would run away, and if she ran away, he could not protect her. She had no idea the lengths he’d gone to shield her, but if the truth of her ability came to light…
There would be no more hiding away in the sanctity of her woods. She would have to make a choice, and so would he.
Would they be safer with her ability, or safer if no one could use it?
*
Satoru did not make another appearance for two weeks.
Utahime knew she should count her blessings – the gods knew the man frustrated her more than anything and excelled at interrupting her peace – and yet, she found herself thinking about him.
She thought about the way he walked around without actually touching anything, how nothing was disturbed underneath his footsteps, not even the earth. It was like he was partially removed from everything, living in his own little world amongst them. In the beginning, it had reminded her of the way she lived, but she knew now that it was different from him. He was different.
She thought of his laugh, so loud and carefree, and how he smiled just as easily. Of course he could do those things, because he was obviously powerful and came from wealth, so he’d likely never suffered a day in his life. He didn’t know what it meant to work. She’d put him to task half for that reason alone, thinking it would teach him a lesson, but instead, he laughed and smiled more. He delighted in teasing her, always playful, so when he did have his serious moments, it made her wary.
She especially thought of his eyes – the impossible blueness of them, the brightness and clarity, gazing at her as if he could see into her soul. They came to her in her dreams, startling her awake. His eyes were a sign of his power, but it struck her in that moment, when she looked into him, that she did not know the extent of his strength. She’d felt it for a brief period when her cursed energy caressed against his, and something in her song had shifted.
More, it whispered, more.
It was not like her to want things. She had survived because she ignored her desires. She survived because she knew it was safer not to want anything.
But with her cursed energy stitching itself into his, she suddenly realized what it meant to be alive. She did not want to simply survive; she wanted to live.
It did her no good thinking about him, but the longer time passed without another visit, the more Utahime couldn’t stop him from trespassing her mind. She wondered where he was, what he was doing, who he was with. In all the times he’d visited, he rarely spoke about himself, always pestering her with questions even if she did lead a strange but quaint life. Whenever she did ask, he only responded with vague answers, enough to satisfy her without giving her much in return.
Now, when she wanted more, he would not show his face. Utahime couldn’t hide her disappointment, the curses tittering nervously around her as she huffed in frustration. Even they seemed to be upset by the lack of his presence, if only because they liked the way he tended to provoke her cursed energy.
It was not fair, she thought, how he invaded her mind, only to leave her alone. It was not fair that he could show her what she was missing, only to take it away from her again. Was this another test? Was he trying to lure her out of the woods on her own, or had he decided she was no longer of interest to him? Did she not entertain him anymore? Was she so little compared to him that he could simply vanish without a word?
The hurt that followed these questions wounded her. She’d thought similar things before, back when the members of her village dragged her out into these woods and left her to die. She’d thought she was over such dark thoughts, but apparently, they had been laying dormant in the back of her mind.
With such questions distracting her, Utahime nearly missed the sound of twig snapping from behind. Her heart shot into her throat, all her fears dashed away, and she reached out with her cursed energy out of habit, expecting the wall it would inevitably crash into despite its urge to give in.
She didn’t want to turn around at first, determined to give him a taste of his own medicine after he’d snubbed her for so long, but Utahime wanted to see him. It was shameful and embarrassing, but in the quiet of her woods and curse companions, she had missed Satoru, when she had never missed anyone before.
“Took you long enough,” Utahime said, still refusing to look back at him.
She could only hold out for so long, but she thought he enjoyed her stubbornness. He was an awful man, if not powerful sorcerer, taking stabs at her prickly pride for the fun of it.
“Hello, little witch.”
*
The first thing Satoru noticed when he stepped foot in the woods was its emptiness. There was a distinct void in the air, a hole in the earth where something had once lived, a hollowness that stretched as far as his senses could feel, like something had sucked the life out of it.
The second thing he noticed was the silence. It was eerily quiet for the woods, which had once been teeming with life of all sorts. No animals, no breeze rustling the tree leaves, no trickling water – just silence, as if a blanket had been laid over it to smother everything.
The third and final thing Satoru noticed was the darkness.
The once bright woods sat still and dark, no light able to pierce through the canopy. It wasn’t just a natural darkness that caught his eyes. Another light he’d become familiar with was missing. Utahime’s cursed energy, which had brightened the woods in a way the trained eye could not mistake, had nearly faded away entirely. Only traces of it remained, cursed energy embedded deeply into the roots of the forest from her time here.
When Satoru stepped past the tori gates of the shrine, he was met with a sight that could only be described as a massacre. Curse remains were splattered everywhere, on the grass and rocks, the walls of the shrine they’d rebuilt, in the mud. A door was broken, hanging off its hinges. His foot kicked a knife, spreading a streak of blood across the ground. He stared at the sight, like he didn’t know what he was seeing. He’d never had use for physical weapons, not with his abilities.
Not a single curse remained. They had all been exorcised.
Murdered.
And Utahime…
Satoru closed his eyes and released the hold on his cursed energy. It burst from him, scouring the woods and past its edges, desperately searching for something he knew in his heart he would not find. Instead, he found something else, a weak pulse of energy deep within the confines of the cave.
Ah, the mountain curse, the one Utahime had lulled and fed into submission.
With a single step, Satoru transported from the shrine to the mouth of the cave. He walked inside, unafraid, already knowing what he would find. Hidden in the dark, a broken and injured curse lumbered, wheezing heavily as it died. There would be no point in trying to save it, not that he could. The curse, as strong as it was, had been severely wounded. It had already faded partially, but it was still clinging to what could barely be considered life, one of its eyes struggling to fixate on him.
“Curse,” it wheezed.
A bitter smile crossed Satoru’s face. “Funny, that’s what I was going to call you.”
The curse made a sound, half dying and half fury, but it could do little more than shudder as pain lanced through its body. Gods, the thing was hideous. In the height of its power, it would’ve been a monstrous thing that could easily tear into a human and swallow even strong sorcerers. No wonder the villagers had feared it enough to resort to such callous and desperate actions. He bet it had killed tens of men, if not more, and yet, a little witch had ensnared it, making it her own.
Crouching down in front of the dying curse, Satoru asked, “Where is she?”
To its credit, even though the curse loathed and feared Satoru, its love for Utahime was stronger. “Taken.”
A rope tightened around Satoru’s heart. “Where?”
The curse made a noise. It wasn’t quite a word, but Satoru knew what it meant. He could not understand curses like Utahime could, but he’d gained a few tricks over his time with her. The curse didn’t know where she was taken. After being attacked, it had crawled into the safety of its cave where it would die alone – or Utahime had told him to run.
Yes, that sounded more like the truth. This curse, he knew, would do everything to keep Utahime safe in the woods with them. It would only leave her side if Utahime herself told it to leave her. It was a shame that it hadn’t been enough. He wondered if she knew that, or if she still clung to hope.
“Who?”
“The…” Another lumbering breath full of pain, and the curse spit out what looked like black blood from its disgusting mouth. "The Master.”
Satoru’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. There was only one person in existence whom the curses would refer to as Master, a sorcerer who had turned his back on society to follow a terrible path that had only led to ruin and destruction. He was an incredibly powerful sorcerer with an ability that many both revered and feared, but he was not stronger than Satoru.
However, with Utahime under his control…
Forgive me, Satoru swore as he ended the curse’s suffering.
He had not protected her as he promised, but he would save her, no matter the cost, even if it meant losing his soul in the process.