Chapter 12

Satoru Gojo was coming, but there was no specific time set. After delivering newspapers in the morning, Nagasawa Ikio deliberately waited at Yuta Okkotsu’s house for a while to accompany him in morning exercise.

Yuta Okkotsu had moved out on his own a few years ago, saying that being cursed by Rika put his family in danger.

“But your physical skills are really trash. Can you even pass the physical education test?” Nagasawa Ikio mocked mercilessly in this regard and then, adopting a mysterious tone, said, “Want to get stronger, kid? If you get stronger, you can protect the people who matter!”

“...”

Yuta Okkotsu, as if invited by a typical chuunibyou teenager, gave Nagasawa a gloomy look. Nagasawa then gave him a heavy pat on the shoulder: “Start training with me first thing tomorrow morning.”

“...Such a rough and selfish decision.”

Nagasawa poked his waist, making Yuta try to dodge while suppressing a laugh, “What are you mumbling about? Are you just going to give up like someone sentenced to death? If you train with me, maybe you can fight back!”

Yuta grew even more withdrawn, deeply sensing Nagasawa’s reckless attitude. “Why do you casually say ‘fight back’? Isn’t a death sentence a very serious matter? Isn’t that a decision only some authority can make?”

He didn’t even know why he so easily believed he was sentenced to death.

Perhaps it was because he recognized the danger posed by being haunted by Rika, or maybe he realized how easily Nagasawa could take him down.

“It is serious, yeah. But this is about getting you a reprieve,” Nagasawa said with a smile. “Even prisoners have to prove their determination to reform. As for you—”

The black-haired boy showed a certain aggrieved and suppressed expression.

Nagasawa brazenly tousled his hair and scattered his thoughts. As Yuta struggled with his messy hair, he laughed and said, “You’re no different from a kid carrying a bomb, so don’t be so nervous. Nobody’s calling you a vicious criminal.”

His eyes curved into a warm glow. Yuta gazed up at him in a daze, forgetting even to resist.

Soon after, caught up in the fiery spirit, he agreed to the early training.

Riding a bike behind Yuta, Nagasawa almost shouted through a megaphone, “You’re so slow! You’ve clearly got a lot of strength, so why’s your stamina so low?”

Yuta bit his teeth and turned his head, “Mr. Nagasawa, you’re the one who keeps joking around and teasing me.”

“You mean I always distract you with my words? This mouth is the only good thing about me.”

Yuta was stunned by his narcissistic attitude, then Nagasawa smiled and said, “This mouth of mine either makes people blush with anger or fills their hearts with joy. I say all kinds of sweet talk, but I don’t know how to hide or keep secrets. My boss says I can’t play roles in ‘silent literature’—you know what that means, right? It’s when two people who really like each other refuse to admit their feelings, causing misunderstandings and even tragic separations.”

At the traffic light, Yuta took a break and asked, “Nagasawa, are you saying you’re honest?”

“Maybe even more than that,” Nagasawa took off his postman’s hat and shook his hair. “I hate it when people hide things from me, so I’d never be that kind of person myself.”

That’s why he could be the companion and tool for a bunch of problem children.

***

On the first day as a personal attendant, twelve-year-old Nagasawa Ikio slept outside Satoru Gojo’s room.

The absurd rules set by the Gojo family made Nagasawa curse inwardly while spreading his bedding in the corridor. He curled up into a cocoon, put on a thick hat, covering himself except for his nostrils for breathing, and leaned against Gojo’s door to sleep.

The next morning, he tidily put his things back in his own room and then eagerly ran to greet Gojo. He took on the task of dressing from the maid, unbothered by her glare. Looking at the intricate and luxurious clothes in his hands, he suddenly understood, “Oh~ so you don’t like wearing these, huh.”

Gojo, who had remained silent the entire time, was stunned and opened his eyes wide.

Though it was work, Nagasawa’s principle was always that work is life, and life should be romantic and passionate! Before joining, he had seen many lifeless tools beaten down by tasks, their passion for life and emotional sensitivity worn away, making people’s hearts ache to watch.

On the second day as a personal attendant, Nagasawa again cursed the dumb Gojo inwardly while secretly putting his bedding away, then cheerfully sought Gojo out to accompany him outside.

Along the way, he used his pitiful, worn-out wallet to buy Gojo an ice cream, having noticed that Gojo wanted one.

When Gojo took the ice cream, he showed a baffled expression. Nagasawa laughed heartily in front of him and was scolded by the maid.

On the third day as a personal attendant, Nagasawa openly cursed the dumb Gojo, glanced around furtively to make sure no one was around, and then placed a snowman made of hand-shaped snow in Gojo’s room.

It had snowed again last night. He had stayed outside all night, excitedly watching the snow scene for a long time, only to realize his nose was running. Frightened, he quickly took medicine—his self-care skills were top-notch!

The snowman lasted until those dazzling eyes finally opened.

On the fourth day as a personal attendant, Nagasawa stopped cursing Gojo because he was now sleeping inside Gojo’s room.

One day afterward, he proudly said, “Gojo, you’re really easy to coax.”

If this were a dating sim, Gojo would have been won over by him in three days.

Gojo snatched the half-eaten crepe from Nagasawa and stuck out his tongue, “You idiot, Nagasawa Ikio.”

“Isn’t that true? Didn’t you dislike me because you hated the Gojo family’s arrangements?”

“If that were really the case, I wouldn’t even glance at you. I’d just get rid of you.”

***

“If you don’t say it, how would I know? I’m really curious!”

***

It wasn’t for that reason...

Satoru Gojo, weary from travel, found Nagasawa’s current apartment and noticed the door hadn’t even been properly closed.

The three days had only given Nagasawa a grace period to accept the other person.

He gripped the doorknob and gently opened the door. Traces of cursed energy spread before his eyes, the heavy, ominous color once again appearing in his vision.

When they first met, Gojo had sensed what kind of person Nagasawa was through those clear eyes, yet he was still caught off guard by his straightforwardness and enthusiasm.

As he pulled him from the cold, dark night into the room, Gojo seemed to hear a voice whisper in his ear—You are the first.

The first person to come inside in ten years since birth.

Everything was unexpected, yet completely natural.

Gojo stepped over the threshold. With a bang, someone slammed the door open, and a quarrel and scuffle approached.

Whether it was because he was cursed by Gojo, or because sorcerers themselves become curses through their attachments, or both, it shouldn’t have been like this...

“Jinpei! I told you I went to the hospital for a checkup! I’m fine now, see? I’m not limping anymore!”

“Furubayashi says she keeps calling to remind you to go for a follow-up, but you only say yes and never actually go! Hurry up and put on your clothes and come out. Also, in this weather, you’re wearing short sleeves to deliver newspapers?”

The two shoved each other at the entrance.

Nagasawa was still lifting his shirt to show Jinpei Matsuda his injury. The black-haired youth was stubbornly pulling a sweatshirt over his head. At that moment, Nagasawa noticed the unexpected figure at the entrance and turned around in confusion.

“...Gojo?”

Satoru Gojo: “...”