You were an ordinary person – not a sorcerer, as you would be called in the world of Jujutsu, but you didn't know anything about this world. You were one of the millions of little stars, a human soul that moves through the cycle of life and death, looking for your place in this world, and you found it on a small stage behind a vintage microphone, lighting up Tokyo nights with jazz and your pretty voice. And he loved your voice.

As you didn't understand where you were going, Suguru didn't understand why he came here: a place steeped in the stench of 'monkeys', their sloppy appearance and disgusting voices. But your voice didn't sound disgusting to him. And it also irritated him, every time forcing him to hold his breath, frown and clench his hands into a fist from the fact that he was unable to take his eyes off you, singing on stage. Everything inside Suguru was burning with hatred, bordering on madness from the kind of enchantment you put on him with your pretty voice, which he remembered falling asleep and waking up. But if Suguru wants something, he will definitely get it and you were no exception.

"A wonderful performance, as always," Suguru whispers in your ear, passing you a bouquet of lush peonies with one hand, with the other – impressively wrapping his arms around your little body, placing his palm on the small of your back. The relationship between you was strange: mutual sympathy, light flirtation, your embarrassment and his assertive nature. Only something in Suguru's fox-like squint still wouldn't let you rest, making your knees tremble slightly and your heart stop.