ゆうめい

summary : Saebyeok and her friends were on a mission. They weren't just trying to figure out how her mom died, they wanted to know the real story. Something about her mom's "heart attack" felt totally off. They were digging, trying to find out what actually happened.

WARNING: fluff, innocent, deceased mother, emotional, caring, non cussing , fighting curses, no love making until marriage, very detailed story, virgin.

A/N : First fanfic on this account! It's a non-smut story, and I really hope you guys like it. I've been working hard on it, and I proofread it, so it should be pretty good!

pairing: Soft! toji fushiguro x audience surrogate

words:

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My stomach felt like it was tied in knots, Saebyeok thought, clutching it tightly. If she could just see aeri,nabi,and chaerin maybe she’d feel better. But even getting out of bed felt like climbing a mountain. She sat up, her usually neat bun is a mess, strands of her wavy hair sticking out in all directions. She looked awful, dark circles under her eyes, her skin pale, and her nose bright red. And her legs? They felt like jelly. Still, she tried to stand, pushing one leg out of the covers, determined to move.

"Sweetie, lie back down. You need to rest," Auntie Mei said, leaning against the doorframe, her face filled with worry.

"I have to move," Saebyeok croaked, her voice thick. "The doctor said I have to move my muscles." She remembered the doctor’s words after her checkup, about this weird fever that wouldn't go away. He'd said she couldn’t go back to school until she was completely better.

"Okay, sweetheart, but be careful," Auntie Mei said, her voice soft. "Don't push yourself."

Auntie Mei had always been there for her. After her mom died, she’d stepped in, becoming something close to a second mother. For Auntie Mei, Saebyeok was the daughter she never had.

But whenever Saebyeok asked about her mom’s death, Auntie Mei’s smile would tighten, her hands suddenly busy with anything else. Like she was guarding something fragile. Or dangerous.

“Okay,” Saebyeok mumbled, her voice thick and nasal. She pushed herself up from the soft bed, her legs trembling beneath her.

This wasn’t normal. The heat under her skin felt wrong too sharp, too alive. It crawled through her veins instead of settling in her head like a normal fever.

Deep down, she knew it had something to do with her mom. With the condition Auntie Mei refused to name. With the truth buried alongside her mother.

She finally managed to stand, leaning against the wall for support. Her head swam, but she forced herself to take a few shaky steps. She needed to be strong needed to understand. This sickness and Auntie Mei’s strange silence weren’t separate things. They were connected.

She thought of the strange symbols Aeri had shown her. Of the stories Chaerin whispered about curses, always half-joking, half-afraid. Of her mom top of her class in some secret, Special Grade program no one ever talked about.

It still sounded like a crazy dream.

But what if it wasn’t?

What if this sickness was a curse, a leftover from whatever her mom had been fighting?

Saebyeok’s stomach churned again, but this time it wasn’t from the sickness. It was the cold dread settling in her chest the sense that she was walking into something dangerous, something she didn’t understand.

She had to get better. She had to find Kenji and Hana. They had to figure this out before it was too late. Because she couldn’t shake the feeling that this sickness, this weakness, was only the beginning. And if she didn’t act soon, she might end up just like her mom.

Saebyeok stumbled toward the small kitchen, her hand trailing along the wall for support. The faint smell of ginger and herbs lingered in the air, a reminder of Auntie Mei’s attempts to soothe her fever. She poured herself a glass of water, the cool liquid a small comfort against the burning in her throat.

As she drank, her gaze fell on a small wooden box tucked away on the bottom shelf, hidden behind a row of teacups. It was old, its surface intricately carved with symbols she didn’t recognize. She was sure she’d never seen it before.

Curiosity stronger than her weakness pushed her forward. She dragged a chair over and reached for the box, careful not to make a sound. Auntie Mei was probably resting, and Saebyeok didn’t want to disturb her.

The box was heavy, the wood smooth and cool to the touch. The latch was stiff, but with a determined push, it clicked open. Inside, nestled on a bed of faded silk, was a single object a small, silver pendant, shaped like a crescent moon. It pulsed with a faint, warm light.

Saebyeok's breath caught in her throat. The pendant felt...familiar, like a half-remembered dream. As she touched it, a wave of dizziness washed over her, and images flashed through her mind: swirling shadows, glowing symbols, and a woman's voice, soft and strong, whispering in a language she didn't understand.

She gasped, pulling her hand away. The pendant's light flickered and died, leaving her in the dim kitchen, her heart pounding.

"What was that?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the living room. Saebyeok's eyes widened.

She slowly stood up, her legs still shaky, and moved towards the sound.

The living room was a mess. The small coffee table was overturned, and the framed photograph of her mother was shattered on the floor. But it wasn't the mess that made her blood run cold. It was the dark, swirling shadow that writhed in the corner of the room, its form shifting and changing, its presence thick and heavy in the air.

Saebyeok's feverish skin prickled with fear. She wasn't hallucinating. This was something she never seen before. Something dark. Something dangerous.

The shadow pulsed, and a low, guttural growl filled the room, thick with cursed energy.

Saebyeok’s hand instinctively flew to the pendant still clutched in her other hand. It pulsed in response, a faint, protective warmth spreading through her veins like something answering the curse.

“What are you?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The shadow lunged, its form solidifying into something twisted and grotesque, its shape wrong in ways her mind struggled to process.

Saebyeok stumbled back, her heart hammering in her chest.

This was it.

This was what had been making her sick.

This was the curse that had killed her mom.

She had to run. She had to get out. But something held her back. A flicker of defiance, a burning need to understand.

The silence after the exorcism was worse than the noise.

Saebyeok stayed frozen on the floor, knees tucked to her chest, waiting for something, anything to happen. For the cursed spirit to reform. For the room to collapse. For her heart to finally give out.

Nothing did.

Her ears rang. Her skin felt wrong, like it didn’t belong to her anymore.

She lifted her hands slowly, afraid of what she might see. They were shaking so badly she had to press them against the floor to steady herself. Dark spots swam in her vision, and when she swallowed, she tasted iron.

“…I almost died,” she whispered.

The words didn’t feel real.

The air around her still buzzed with residual cursed energy her cursed energy. It leaked off her uncontrollably, prickling against her skin like static. She could feel it now. The difference between before and after was horrifying.

Before, the sickness had been inside her.

Now, it was everywhere.

Her chest tightened.

Is this what Mom felt? The constant pressure. The awareness. The certainty that something unseen was always watching.

Her gaze drifted to the spot where the cursed spirit had vanished. There was nothing there no body, no trace yet she couldn’t stop staring. Her hands clenched into fists.

“That thing…” Her voice cracked. “It knew me.”

The thought made her stomach twist.

The katana the cursed tool had felt familiar in her hands. Too familiar. Like her body had been waiting for it long before her mind caught up. That scared her more than the cursed spirit ever had.

She shook her head violently.

“No. No, no, no.” Her breathing quickened, panic clawing its way up her throat. “I didn’t train. I didn’t choose this.”

Her pendant grew warm again not flaring this time, just… steady. Almost reassuring.

That somehow made it worse.

Because it meant this wasn’t a one-time thing.

The room creaked softly as the cursed energy settled, but Saebyeok flinched anyway, her body coiling defensively. She felt exposed. Raw. Like a door had been forced open inside her and couldn’t be shut again.

Tears blurred her vision.

“If you’re still here,” she whispered, not sure who she was talking to her mom, herself, or something else entirely. “If you really left this behind for me…”

Her throat closed.

“…why didn’t you tell me how much it would hurt?”

Somewhere far away, beyond the apartment, cursed energy shifted subtle, distant, but real. Something had noticed the exorcism.

Saebyeok didn’t feel powerful.

She felt hunted.

She pressed her forehead to the floor, gripping the pendant like it was the only thing anchoring her to reality.

This wasn’t the end of her sickness.

It was the beginning of her awakening.

And awakenings, in the world of jujutsu, were never gentle.