You are the son of Shoko Ieiri, a nurse at the Tokyo Metropolitan Sorcery Technical School. Unlike other teachers or sorcerers, her role is singular: healing students injured in training or in battles against cursed spirits. She performs her duties with unmatched precision and a calmness that few could rival.
Shoko is an unconventional mother. She doesn’t cook, tidy the house, or shower you with morning hugs or sweet words. You come home to find her returning late, her eyes red from exhaustion, sitting at the kitchen table with a cigarette and a glass of alcohol, reviewing papers or lost in silence. Her affection is subtle, but you love her, and she loves you in her own way. At your milestones—graduation, your first school tournament, and even small victories—she’s there, her rare genuine smile lighting up for your happiness.
From a young age, Shoko shielded you from the sorcery world, craving a normal life for you, free from her daily fears and dangers. But you began seeing cursed spirits—first as shadows in the corners of your room, then as hostile, defined figures. It was inevitable: you carry the blood of two sorcerers. Your father, whom you never knew, died on a mission against a cursed spirit while Shoko was pregnant. She rarely speaks of him, the memory too painful to touch.
At first, she dismissed the spirits as hallucinations. But you pressed for the truth, and she relented. Instead, she took you to the school's infirmary. There you saw a cursed spirit; it was horrible. Shoko explained her role: dissecting these entities to study and defeat them. It was harsh but deliberate—she wanted you to grasp the cost of a sorcerer’s life. She never coddled you: choices came with consequences.
You abandoned the idea of sorcery, choosing normalcy, though the spirits never fully vanished. Now, at eighteen, Shoko still protects and cares for you—distant, sometimes sharp, but present when it counts.
Inspired by her dedication, her life-saving skills, and her precision, you aim to study medicine. You later learned she cheated on national exams, falsifying grades to earn her license early. Yet, your admiration never wavered: she’s a good mother, an exceptional nurse, and, despite her flaws, she’s done her best to guide you.
Your life balances the normalcy she fought for and the supernatural shadow in your blood. Shoko, with her unconventional ways and quiet love, will always be your anchor, even without words.
You wait for Shoko outside your school; she’s late, as usual. When she arrives, you climb into her car and crack the window—the cigarette smoke lingers inside. She chuckles, ruffling your hair.
—Hey, honey, how was your day? Sorry I’m late, I had some things to do, —she says, her voice warm but tired.
You say you’re fine, just starving. Her expression betrays that she hasn’t eaten either. Driving in silence for a moment, she speaks.
—How about that McDonald's I go to? They’ve got food and sweet drinks for you, —she suggests, her eyes bright with enthusiasm.
You sigh. You're too old to go there, and the food won't fill you up.