Chapter 1 - Cursed Hand of God

His chest ached, as the truck smashed right through him and he could smell and taste the coppery blood filling his mouth. He struggled to even exhale as his body twitched uncontrollably.

Tears blurred his eyes, as he stared at the truck that had just smashed onto him. He couldn’t see much else, other than the blinding lights that bit right onto his retina. A man climbed out of the truck, or at least that was what he thought he heard as the world around him started turning dark.

Fucking ran over by a truck!

It was kind of like those lame cliche stories he used to read. Except way worse, since the pain felt like it would never go. Despite his dreams, goals, and everything else he had died a pathetic death and would end up as nothing more than a blood splatter on the asphalt and nothing more.
However, despite his pathetic situation he could sit here and moan and groan, dazed and waiting to die.

He wanted to get up, and despite how his life was really leading him nowhere and he didn’t have much going for him. He still wanted to live!

The only joy he had in his life was watching anime and reading. Nobody was there in his life to give a shit about him, but at least he would have liked to see how One Piece would have ended. Or whether Sukuna would have destroyed Gojo. My Hero Academia… had grown kinda mid, so he didn’t care much about that.

‘This fucking sucks…’ he lamented as he could no longer feel any pain, and only darkness. His mind was also growing sluggish, and he could no longer even think straight.

But in these last dying moments, he was enraged by his ending. How could his life end like this? It wasn’t fucking fair!

Do You Wish To Live Again?

A black ebony screen, with green letters appeared in front of his eyes.

“Fuck, I’m finally going crazy in the afterlife?” He asked, no one in particular. "I thought it would take longer. Haven't even been here for a full minute."

In an instant, his mind cleared up and there was not even a hint of confusion any longer. He looked around, but there was only darkness and he felt like he was in some kind of black whirlpool of shadows.

‘Where the hell am I?’ He wondered. ‘Oh, right… dead.’

He returned to staring at the screen and looked around for a Yes or No button. But there was nothing, and only the screen in front of him that somehow moved when he moved, to perfectly stay in front of his eyes.

Would he rather spend eternity at what seemed to be absolute nothingness, return to nothing, or come back to life? The answer was obvious.

“Yes!” He yelled out, but there was no response, even as he looked around like a confused fish. “Fuck this-”

Just then there was a sudden feeling of emptiness in his stomach and he was sucked into a black hole that was formed in the middle of his torso.

A twisting sensation spread through his body. It felt like he was being squeezed through a straw.

Shinso Masou woke up with a gasp, his clothes clinging to his sweaty body. He quickly stood up and noticed he felt slightly shorter than usual.

As he surveyed the room, it appeared to be a typical dormitory. Yet, there were some peculiarities that caught his attention, such as the presence of a futon instead of a bed, and the overall minimalistic décor.

"I'm alive again..." Shinso muttered under his breath.

The excitement of a second chance at life was conspicuously absent. "Why couldn't it have been One Piece?"

Shinso Masou was a fifteen-year-old with very little going for him. But that wasn't unusual in the grim world he inhabited.

His parents had mysteriously vanished when he was a child, according to official reports. Since a young age, Shinso had occasionally seen strange creatures lurking about. However, because these sightings were infrequent, he had never spoken about them, except for one instance that led to counseling. The creatures he observed were dismissed as a child's imagination.

He approached a mirror, where he confronted an unfamiliar, unremarkable face. Striking black hair and dark eyes gave him a nondescript appearance, the kind of person who blended into a crowd.

He possessed the boy's memories, with the last recollection being the original Shinso preparing for some ritual and offering prayers. Those were his final memories.

Chalk remnants on the floor caught his attention, and he crouched down to examine them.

Before he could ponder it further, there was a knock on the door. Shinso glanced at the clock, indicating nine in the morning, the start of an office worker's typical workday.

He rose and peered through the peephole, revealing a blond man in a tan suit on the other side. Kento Nanami, the same man who had informed Shinso about his parents. He was the one who had recruited Shinso for whatever this was and had approached him in a less than encouraging manner, which had pressured Shinso into performing some sort of chuuni ritual. In his limited knowledge, Cursed Spirits were real, so perhaps chuuni rituals were too.

He was partially correct.

Taking a deep breath, Shinso tried to calm himself and pushed any lingering anxiety to the back of his mind as he opened the door.

Shinso felt exhausted; his body had hardly rested the night before, mainly because today he had an important meeting.

"Hi, sir Nanami," Shinso greeted politely.

He recognized Kento Nanami from the anime and manga as a Grade 1 Sorcerer. That was as high as a normal sorcerer could reach. Only monsters, irregulars in the Jujutsu world could reach Special Grade.

"No need for formalities," Nanami adjusted his tie and sighed. "Have you made a decision about becoming a Jujutsu Sorcerer? Jujutsu High has given you an offer, and you will get a payment every month even as a student. But given your circumstances, the choice is yours."

"I'm not sure. What's your opinion, sir Nanami?" Shinso asked, curious. "Please be honest."

While Nanami's words were unlikely to change his mind, Shinso was curious to hear what the man had to say.

"As I told you last time, the job can be difficult," Nanami answered honestly. "Your Cursed Technique hasn't been deemed anything special, and you lack formal training. You'll need to catch up to the others."

"Thanks-"

"I'm not finished," Nanami interrupted. "On top of your lack of training, there's also a chance you might encounter a Cursed Spirit stronger than you. No matter what you do, you may not be able to defeat it. The chances of a gruesome death are close to one hundred percent; there are very few sorcerers who live past thirty."

Nanami took a step closer, towering over Shinso.

The Jujutsu Sorcerer continued, "You should consider a different path, like becoming a doctor. Kids shouldn't be out there fighting to the death just because they can use a bit of cursed energy."

Shinso was stunned. Although he had a certain view of Nanami as an anime character, seeing him in real life was an entirely different experience.

If Shinso were honest with himself, he should run. But where? Nowhere was safe. He also lacked the finances to escape Japan and the Culling Games.

Besides, he was physically just a fifteen-year-old kid.

Even if he somehow managed to do all that, this world was filled with strange things like curses. And humans weren't any better; Curse Users, people who could use curse energy but weren't tied to Jujutsu High, could do whatever they pleased in the outside world. Someone like him, who was weak and defenseless, but could also use cursed energy was the perfect target as a test subject.

No matter how he considered it, there seemed to be no chance of living a normal life.

He closed his eyes and thought of his address… ninety-fourth Street, near the Train Station in Shibuya District.

Shinso wasn’t sure if it was that train station since Shibuya was quite big. But there was no way in hell Shinso was going to live another day here.

For the moment, Shinso pushed aside his concerns and focused on Nanami. He had no more questions for the Jujutsu Sorcerer, at least not at that moment.

However, there was someone else who had been too nervous to ask something. That someone was the original Shinso. So, he gathered his courage and asked instead of the original, "You've been honest with me so far, sir Nanami. May I ask one more question?"

"Go ahead," he replied, taking a pair of unusual glasses from his pocket and putting them on.

"What happened to my parents?" Shinso asked, his heart rate increasing.

He didn't have any emotional attachment to his new parents beyond the memories. But his body reacted strongly to their mere mention.

Nanami met his gaze with an unreadable expression. "They died in an accident involving curses."

Shinso nodded and gave a slight bow, observing the Japanese custom of showing respect. "Thank you for providing closure."

He had anticipated an answer like this, but despite that, his hands trembled, and a tear rolled down his cheek.

Nanami allowed him some time to regain composure as the overwhelming feelings of sadness and despair gradually lifted. Everything felt lighter as if the connection between the original Shinso and his new body had been severed.

'Is this what Sukuna did by sinking Megumi's soul?' Shinso wondered briefly. However, he didn't dwell on these thoughts for long, understanding that the original Shinso had not been prepared for a world like this and had prayed to avoid living this life. His prayers had been answered, in a way.

"Sorry," Shinso wiped away the remaining tears. "But I've made my decision now. I will join Jujutsu High."

Nanami sighed, as though he had expected this but was still disappointed. "Someone will come to pick you up tomorrow."

Once Nanami walked away, Shinso closed the door, clutching his throbbing head as he recollected a fresh set of memories.

"Damn it! I got a new chance at life, but it had to be in the world of Jujutsu Kaisen," he sighed.

Just like many other Jujutsu Kaisen fans, Shinso admired characters like Nanami, Gojo, and even Sukuna. He always couldn't wait for each new manga chapter and still watched the anime, it was animated quite good.

But living in a world like Jujutsu Kaisen? Fuck no! That was one of the worst anime worlds to be in, down there with Attack on Titan and Tokyo Ghoul.

"I'm in deep shit," Shinso remarked, making his way to the living room/bedroom of his small, one-room apartment. He leaned against the wall. "At least I have a Cursed technique."

With everything that had happened today, in both lives, he was beyond exhausted. But he had been keeping it together, somehow.

Shinso wanted to try out cursed energy and maybe even use his cursed technique. But before that, it felt like mountains were pulling his eyelids down.

After everything that had happened and the lack of sleep this body was experiencing, he didn't get the chance to try his cursed technique as his head tilted down.

He sleepily went and laid on the futon; sleep claimed him almost immediately.

...

The next time Shinso opened his eyes, he awoke to the sound of his own stomach rumbling.

How much time had passed?

He looked at the small window in his apartment, it was pitch dark outside. Standing up, he checked the clock, and it was four in the morning.

"I could eat a horse," he muttered under his breath while checking if there was anything in the fridge. Of course, since he was a teenager living alone, there was barely any food in there.

After a dozen minutes, he cooked rice, eggs, and ramen. It wasn't anything special, but it was a good meal. It woke him up and reminded him that he still technically had magical powers.

Sadly, Shinso had received no training in using cursed energy, but his Cursed Technique wasn't a hard one to use.

Shinso felt the cursed energy spreading throughout his body, like a warm wind passing through him. He used his cursed technique effortlessly, almost as if it were instinctual second nature. It required nothing more than a simple thought to activate.

Name: Shinso Masou
Age: 15

Cursed Energy Reserves: 149/150 (Grade 4 Sorcerer)

Strength 7/100
Agility 9/100
Endurance 5/100
Perception 10/100
Cursed Energy Output 2/100

Skills:
Sorcery (F-)
Cursed Energy Manipulation (F-)

Innate Cursed Technique:
???