Aiko Tanaka had always felt like something was missing in her life. Her days were filled with routine—wake up, go to work at the bookstore, smile at customers, come home to an empty apartment, and fall asleep to the soft hum of anime playing in the background. She wasn't unhappy, not really. But deep inside, she felt... misplaced. Like her life was a pair of shoes one size too small.
She often joked with friends that she must have been born in the wrong universe. A world with magic, danger, and a bit of chaos sounded far more exciting than balancing receipts and paying bills. Little did she know, the universe had been listening.
It was a rainy Thursday afternoon when everything changed. She was humming a tune with her headphones in, umbrella spinning in her hand as she crossed the street near Shibuya Station. The walk sign blinked green, and Aiko, lost in her own little world, took a confident step forward.
She didn't see the truck.
There was a blaring horn. Tires screaming against wet asphalt. People shouting.
Then impact.
Aiko's body hit the ground with a horrifying crack, her umbrella spinning into the sky like a broken feather. Pain erupted for the briefest second—sharp, brutal—before everything turned black.
No final thoughts. No goodbyes. Just... nothing.
But death wasn't the end.
She felt herself floating—weightless, voiceless—through a vast void. Colors bled around her. Echoes of whispers tickled her ears, though no one spoke. It wasn't peaceful. It wasn't hellish. It was just strange. Then, like being snapped from a dream, she awoke in an unfamiliar alleyway.
The sky above was tinted red, and the air buzzed with an energy that made her skin crawl.
"What... the hell?" she muttered, blinking up at the clouds.
She didn't recognize anything around her. The buildings were twisted in shape. Shadows moved when they shouldn't. People passed by, unaware of her. She looked down at herself—same body, same clothes. But something was definitely wrong.
Over the next few days, Aiko learned quickly that this new world wasn't safe. Strange monsters roamed the streets at night—curses, as she'd later overhear someone call them. She kept to herself, hiding in abandoned buildings and eating whatever food she could steal or salvage. She had no powers, no weapons, just instinct and fear. She was a nobody in a world full of death.
Until that night.
It started like every other: dark, damp, and filled with the feeling that something was watching her. But this time, the feeling didn't go away. It grew stronger. Heavier. Then, it appeared.
The curse was grotesque—towering, with eyes in places eyes shouldn't be and a mouth that dripped black sludge. It let out a screech that made her ears ring. Aiko ran.
She ran harder than she ever had in her life, lungs burning, legs shaking, heart in her throat. But no matter how fast she moved, the curse was faster. It crashed through walls, slithered around corners, and closed in on her like a predator playing with its prey.
Just when she stumbled, falling face-first into the street, she looked up and saw death. The curse raised one clawed limb, ready to strike.
Then the world lit up.
A sharp hum of energy sliced through the air. A blue glow shimmered like lightning as something—no, someone—stepped in front of her.
The curse didn't get a chance to scream. In one movement, it was obliterated—exploded into a mist of black energy. Silence followed.
Aiko blinked through the smoke, coughing as the dust settled. That's when she saw him.
Tall, white-haired, dressed in black from head to toe, with blindfolded eyes that somehow looked directly into her soul.
Satoru Gojo.
He turned slightly, staring down at her with the faintest smirk.
"You alright?" he asked casually, like he hadn't just turned a monster into confetti.
Aiko couldn't speak. Her heart thundered in her chest, and her mouth hung open.
Gojo tilted his head. "You're not a sorcerer," he muttered, taking a step closer. "But... you're not like the others, either."
She scrambled back on the ground, trying to put space between them, but he crouched beside her effortlessly. He was close now—too close—and her breath caught in her throat.
His eyes, now visible as he lowered his blindfold slightly, were the most stunning shade of blue she'd ever seen. But it wasn't just his eyes. It was the way he looked at her.
Like she was something special.
His gaze traveled over her—her curves, her trembling lips, the frightened look in her eyes. It wasn't lustful, but it was intense. Curious. Possessive. And... admiring.
"You're beautiful," he said simply, as if stating a fact. "I almost mistook you for a curse. That kind of beauty doesn't belong in this world."
Aiko's face turned crimson.
"I—I don't know what's happening," she stammered. "I just woke up here. I don't know who you are."
Gojo chuckled, standing to his full height. "Name's Gojo. Satoru Gojo. And you... you're clearly not from around here."
She nodded slowly, still trying to make sense of it all. Her body ached. Her mind spun. But one thing was clear—this man had saved her. And there was something about him, something magnetic and overwhelming.
Gojo extended a hand toward her. "Come on. I'm taking you with me. You're not safe out here."
Aiko hesitated—but something in his voice, his presence, made her trust him. She took his hand.
And as he pulled her up, she felt a strange warmth in her chest. A shift. A connection.
Maybe this world wasn't a mistake. Maybe dying wasn't the end.
Maybe... just maybe, this was her beginning.
And maybe falling for Gojo Satoru was about to become the most dangerous—and thrilling—decision of her life.