“I don’t have to deal with curses or other people as long as I have money.“

That’s what Nanami tells himself each dreadful morning as he commutes to the office. The morning train is just another sea of silent faces. A life reduced to figures, and he wouldn’t exactly want it any other way.

With weary steps, he wades through each and every day. His flat is both a refuge and a cage. Not that it matters anyway since he spends more hours of his youth inside a sterile white cubicle.

He doesn’t think much of it when asked by a team lead to train you, to take you under his wing. You’re just another visage that will fade and blur in his memory, another task without much of a choice but to check off a list of chores.

It happened in a flash. Something that makes his every muscle tense and electric, the locked-away reflexes kicking in, the same way someone has committed to memory how to perfect a Rubik’s cube in seconds.

He saw it last night, you, clearly able to see a curse, and swiftly getting rid of it. A sight he hoped to never see again. Something that kept him up all night, eyes more round than glass marbles while glued onto the ceiling.

You weren’t just a face he’d forget now.

Nanami didn’t want to talk to you about it, what the hell was the point if he just wanted to leave his past behind? That said, when the two of you paired up to deliver some paperwork, late at night, in a desolate hallway…

“I saw you take care of a curse yesterday.”

A side glance, the words poured out of himself like a faucet that should have never even been opened. He had to confront you— and get to the bottom of this story.