Age 12(Part-1)

After five years.

Somewhere in Tokyo.

At a renowned middle school, the final bell rang, signaling the end of the day.

The dispersal began. Students flooded out of classrooms, their chatter echoing through the halls as they rushed to their homes or cram schools. 

Teachers left for their own homes, save for a few who remained in the staff room on the first floor, finishing pending work.

By now, the school was mostly empty. Only a handful of students stayed behind for various reasons.

Outside, the sun cast its warm light over the world, painting the sky in hues of yellow and orange. 

Inside, the gleaming marble floors reflected the sunlight streaming in through the pristine windows, bathing the school in a soft, golden glow.

This school appeared normal. It suited the discovered and visible side of the world—safe, orderly, and mundane.

But if one could peer into the hidden side of the world, they would see something out of place. Something bone-chilling. Something eerie.

At the far end of a deserted corridor on the third floor, a shadow loomed over a wall.

If anyone had been there, they wouldn't have been able to identify who or what the flickering, towering shadow belonged to.

The dark silhouette swayed like an ominous black flame against the wall, unnatural and unsettling.

Opposite the end of the corridor, a student stood silently. His uniform was neat and proper, his shirt tucked in and his posture impeccable. His dark brown skin glowed faintly in the fading sunlight.

And most striking of all were his eyes—bright, fiery, and unwavering, like miniature suns.

Though only twelve years old, the boy stood with an aura of unshakable confidence.

He began walking toward the end of the corridor, his steps steady and deliberate.

With each step, his pace quickened.

Soon, he was running, his movements sharp and purposeful, as though charging toward an unseen enemy.

Halfway down the corridor, the flickering shadow on the wall crept downward, slipping onto the floor.

In an instant, it vanished. Or so it seemed.

The shadow didn't disappear. It moved—racing toward the boy at a speed so fast it became imperceptible.

The boy's eyes widened as he glanced down, noticing the shadow at his feet.

The black mass rose abruptly, lifting itself into the air between the white ceiling and the polished floor.

What had once been an amorphous shadow began to take shape. A monstrous, deformed figure materialized—a cursed spirit.

Sharp purple and black fur sprouted from its grotesque body. Countless eyes, weeping and unblinking, formed on its oversized, irregularly shaped face. 

Two muscular arms grew out of its mass, their clawed fingertips gleaming like knives in the dim light. From the edges of its maw, two long, sharp canines curved downward, menacing and unnatural.

It loomed over the boy, radiating malice and hunger.

The boy's expression, briefly shocked, quickly shifted to calm and calculating. 

His eyes followed the cursed spirit's form from the floor to its towering head, analyzing it without a hint of fear.

The cursed spirit snarled, raising its right arm high, its claws catching the light as it prepared to strike.

Why would it attack this harmless-looking child?

The truth is, every being on Earth has survival instincts—a primal warning system embedded in their very existence.

When a creature encounters danger, those instincts awaken, urging it to flee or fight to preserve its life.

Humans have these instincts. Cursed spirits do, too.

And this cursed spirit was no exception.

As it sensed the boy's presence, something within the spirit recoiled. An indescribable fear slithered through its core, coiling tightly around its very existence. Its still-developing mind spiraled into a frenzy, overwhelmed by caution and terror.

Why did the cursed spirit feel such fear?

Its survival instincts had been rattled—no, completely shattered.

But why to such extremes?

The answer was simple.

As the cursed spirit moved through the school—the place of its birth—it encountered an overwhelming presence. An aura so potent and suffocating that its very being trembled.

~~~~~~~~

The boy had sensed the cursed spirit long before it noticed him. He waited for the school to clear, ensuring the remaining students and teachers were out of harm's way, before heading to the third floor where the spirit resided.  

At first, he concealed his presence, suppressing his cursed energy to remain undetected.  

But as he faced the spirit, he stopped hiding.  

In an instant, the boy's body was cloaked in cursed energy, a dangerous and seemingly infinite force radiating from him like a living storm.  

The remaining students, teachers, and workers—though unable to perceive curses—felt a bone-deep chill reverberate through their spines.  

The cursed spirit froze. For the first time since its illogical birth, it felt mortal danger.  

Since its creation, the spirit had been growing stronger, feeding on the swirling negative emotions of the students, teachers, and workers in the school.  

It believed itself invincible.  

A foolish misconception had taken root in its mind: that it was stronger than any other being in existence.  

When its survival instincts activated, they should have urged it to flee.  

But its warped sense of strength twisted that natural response into something far deadlier.  

It reached the warped conclusion that it could eliminate the source of its fear—the boy—using its supposed unparalleled power.  

This would be its greatest mistake.  

For in the next instant, it would vanish from the hidden side of the world.  

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