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A loud thud echoes in the quiet class, eyes focused, pupils set. There, they see the Gojo-like dolls, sapphire-like orbs bulge out -- it's small, felt body spliced to two pieces, with a red silk emerges akin to blood spilling.

"Gets cut in half!"

Turning away for a while, "no worries, there's way more bloodier scenes like --"

"Nope," something blocks your view, looking at the pillar between you. "Don't even try to finish that."

You stare awkwardly at your teacher.

Slowly looking behind her broad shoulders, the scene before you ; people were chuckling behind their campus notebooks, girls giving eachother looks like they'd debrief this later, and students napping when their drool seeps in the wood.

Shifting hastily, a glance of hope flickered when a man sat by the window ; who's hair looked like strings of falling snow, eyes swirling in different hues of greens, purples, a warmth of yellow -- paired with scars over them (like a mysterious chosen-one, you awe). Even if the way his lips curl look unsightly, his body leans closer, head almost urging for more.

"Dear," a concerned reply comes from your teacher. Fingers gently tapping onto her clip board, shifting her sharp gaze between the dolls in your hands to the smile etched on you.

"What are you doing?" She sighs, the intense search-over providing nothing.

Tilting your head, raising the mangled Gojo to her face. "Giving my book report?"

"This is calculus," huffing, putting down the doll. "Go back."

The quiet classroom puts on howls of laughter, countless whispers that egg on you, their words letting your head down in shame.

Just be yourself, a ghastly tone whispers in your ears.

Bullshit, you reply back in your head. I did, and look -- they think I'm some freak.

Inside, the thought pangs, it bounces and pierces through you. Like a reminder of something, an outcast -- an alien obsessed with pages and pages of words.

"Won't you all just leave her alone!" an authoritative tone enters the room, her words alone stopping the laughter.

Her hair falls gracefully over her shoulder, annoyed grunts falling from her pink-glossed lips. The sharp gaze panging through every person in the gaze -- even yours. It's piercing, the obsidian almost taking you in. Once it quiets down, she heads you a small nod and an amused smile -- a pretty one.

It makes your lungs tie, depriving itself of oxygen.

You feel yourself grow flustered, looking away. Yet, when you hit your forehead on the soft confines of the dismembered Gojo plush, your lips morph itself to a small smile.

She defended me, you think, like a giddy child.

Maybe, maybe I won't be so alone anymore.

WHEN the days pass, even if Kamakura was a small, tight-knit town. You never seem to find her, never catching a glimpse of the ringlets with every bounce or the smell of cherries that waft over.

Kikuchi Hotaru.

The excited, almost awed rumors who say. As if a goddess decided to descend on their trails, basting them with flowers, blessings, or glittering light that'll sparkle a path of dimmed alleyways.

"Man, Kikuchi was seriously gorgeous today," a boy whispers to his peers.

"Course she is, always is. "

"You think she'll like the chocolates?"

Stopping behind the two, you slowly back down a corner. Ears leaned in to oversee this conversation (and maybe even find her.)

"Dumbass, like she'd like weirdos like you," he chuckles, jabbing his friend. "Maybe someone like Eugene can match up to her though, who knows."

"Eugene? Like Korekishi? Nah, he's in that club ain't he? Phan..."

"Phantom busters?"

"Yeah, that exorcist stuff with the four guys."

"Oh," the boy let's out in agreement,

"Seriously, what a waste."

The two shake their heads, continuing onto their walk -- when the school bells rings the familiar tune. Your eyes widen at the door, hearing her voice run through the halls. With a little pat on the chest, your legs start to march.

"You are hopeless," someone chuckles, immediately looking up. The translucent, almost sea-like figure floats above -- picking at his nose.

"And you're dead."

"How creative, can't say the same your gift," he retorts, his sassy hisses erupting something in you.

Pointing at the paper clutched on your fingers, you jumped. "She'll... she'll like it," you mumble, keeping it close to your chest.

"Yeah yeah, she'll like calling the police by how much you're following her."

"It's called, fate, dumb ghost."

"It's being a damn stalker -"

"Get off me!" you hiss back, tucking the paper safely. "Stop following me, why don't you reach Buddha..." giving him a harsh look. "Bet even they don't want you there."

Instead of offense, he shrugs. "I'll reach Buddha when you get rejected." He gives a smug smirk, floating through the air.

All you manage is a rude gesture, which he returns. "I don't even like her, just wanna be friends that's all."

He raises his brows, before shaking it head -- following alongside you. Inching closer to Kikuchi, her body surrounded by other people. Your lips dry at the sight, legs trembling when your fingers grip tight. Once your feet step in her space -- her space, your mind almost jumps.

However, before a word falls beneath your lips, a loud thud washes through the hallways. Finding your sight changed ; instead of her thick, bushed hair -- your eyes meet the brown of the school floor. Body pressed on it, another weight on you -- it's bulky, heavy, choking you of air.

"No worries!" the person on top of you happily chuckles, "you'll be safe from hhe ghost now!"

Boy, what?

Finally finding the sweet air to enter, you are entangled in the arms of someone. Looking up in your panic, his black messed-up hair, a toothy-fanged grin, and his red, striked eyes look down on you. A free-hand showing a half-made thumbs up.

All you do is give him a look of disgust.

He stumbles a bit, letting go of your body -- before you hear garbled high-pitch screams. It immediately makes you look up, the scream reminding you of a certain ghost. With open eyes, you find the fang-toothed boy chase the ghost with a crazed smile.

"Ohhh," he taunts, bouncing off the hallways with his tongue out. "Don't run, it won't hurt, just a taste!"

Your ghost companion just evades him, fear. seeping in his rather calm, annoying face. "No! Don't eat me?!"

The sight before you makes you lean back in awe, a hyper-energetic man who looks like a blur of white chasing the ghost you prayed to get rid of.

But, even with the highs, your fingers twitch -- urging to help him.

"Help me! Help!" he cries out like a child, his tears puffing at every moment. With one swoop, you grab the boy holding him down with all your strength. But, you struggle, feet flying dumbly in the air.

"You!" you breathe out, trying to pin him. "Don't... don't eat him!" you plead with desperation, "he maybe an annoying ghost -- but eating him is too kind!"

Then, you find yourself in a weird fight -- if you could call it that. The two of you rolled on the smooth wooden hallways, struggling all while you hurled pleas. You exchanged insults, pulled eachothers clothing and hair.

"Mogari?" a series of voices interrupt you two, as he was pulling on your hair. Stopping in his actions, crimson shifting to meet the three people.

"Koreshiki!" he happily utters, letting go of your hair. "Zaki told me he saw a ghost and..."

"I know," a deadpanned reply, looking to see the other boy, you were stunned.

He has foreigner origins definitely, his bright-ginger hair clipped and wide-round frames that suit his face. Seeing the others, you find the same mysterious dude, and another who's gaze was away -- his body shaking, like it was holding in the urge to vomit.

"Oh," Mogari chuckles, before hastily looking around. "Where is it?"

"More like, where is your mind right now?" Koreshiki states, pointing between the two of you.

"Here?" Mogari points to his temples, chucking his head.

"No, let... let go of the girl," he replies back, removing Mogari off your body.

Finally, you felt like breathing.

Sitting up, you find more than three ; a whole crowd just gawks -- their phones up, small chuckles. Your heart drops, they saw that stupid fight, looking around you catch the gaze -- her gaze. She's staring at you, no amused smile, no emotion, it was a blank. You find her peers whispering their lips close to her ears, girlish laughs entering your earshot.

She saw, your body shuts down, like she'd like weirdos like you, the boys words re-enter your ears.

You don't hear the gossips of laughter, or the phones shuttering, all there is -- is the long stare between the two of you, before she twists her body and walks away.

No, no wait. I didn't get a chance.

"Wait," you try to voice out, reaching out -- before a hand brings you back in. Turning your head back, you're once again faced again with Mogari. He has that stupid grin, showcasing those fangs -- what does he want?

"You, you saw that ghost right?" his smile gets impossibly huge, almost ripping at his skin.

"What?" you choke out, brows furrowing.

You don't get to reply, as he continues to ramble. And all you get is phantom busters, exorcism and ghost. Those words pang passion, yet it brings you to the depths of the cruelty -- their chants of insults, the freak, the outcast.

No, you weren't gonna fall for that -- you promised, you promised her. Even if you wanted to grasp on that string, that thread that could tug on that still heart. But a beating heart, the one that sang every passion you sang to the world -- greeted you with slaps of reality.

You won't be lonely again, right? No one can protect you now. Get off your fantasy, please!

Muffling all the words he's been rambling on, you push him harshly. Yet, his build deterred a slightest bit of impact.

"Leave me alone," you cut harshly, avoiding his eyes. "I don't wanna join you or that freakish club, ghosts don't even exist! Are you out of your mind?"

You turn to the four boys, stance straight and eyes cold (colder than you hope.)

"Get away from me, freaks." you spit with venom, ushering yourself away.

Yet, the small part of your heart beats, even when you forced it to stay still -- and when you try to remove her ; she pleads.

No, please come back, don't keep me here.

MOGARI is stunned. Watching your body flit away, your words stunt his head.

Freaks.

Yet, you utter it less of an insult to them, to his ears -- there's hints of a pained hiss. The words, you don't hurl them in typical bully fashion.

"You think she's a psychic too?" Eugene cuts him off, leaning a finger to his temples. "Or did you just wanna fight?"

"No," Kaoru butts in, shifting his colored eyes. "I saw them talk to the ghost too, in class. " Then, taking on a serious facade, "and someone with a passion for Jujustu Kaisen, she truly must be one."

No one gives a notice to his last words.

"Yeah," Tamon shifts on his feet, "there's some voice that lingers near her, Mogari may be real."

"So," Eugene flickers his gaze to the three, lips pursued in thought. "You're planning to recruit her? After... that?"

All Mogari does is stare, continuously look at the never-ending halls.

He sees the hints of longing, the dots of sadness that paint your stare -- as if a ghost came to posess you, he theorizes.

Your trembles, your hesitance, it really does seem like a ghost of a person he wants to know. Outside of what you show, with that faux confidence and strides.

And instead of wave her away, he sees it like a challenge ; a new exorcism goal for him to fit.

Because after all, if there's a ghost -- it's his job to exorcise. And damn well, he'll do it perfectly -- to remove whatever makes you tremble, what made you seem scared.

"Mogari?"

Returning his grin, he gives off a chuckle.

CHARACTERS - coffee addicts ⋆.˚ the comedy itself

PROLOGUE - 00#help needed

CHARACTERS - coffee addicts ⋆.˚ the comedy itself

PROLOGUE - 00#help needed