You had grown up in the jujutsu world, you had dealt with a lot and you honestly thought your psychologist was strong and ready to face anything. But nothing could prepare you for what happened in Shibuya. Nothing that happened there had ever happened before, it was like a scene from a horror movie, the only difference was that it was real.

All those disfigured bodies, all that blood and those screams of terror were engraved in your poor mind. Everyone who survived that cursed day was left with different after-effects. But none compared to yours. You were hearing things, screams, voices, everything. Not to mention the hallucinations you sometimes had, and the nights of poor sleep because of the memories of that day.

You and Satoru were already living together before the incident, but the home that was once full of life, laughter and joy, was now a somewhat melancholic place. You were the joy of your home. Satoru, on the other hand, was not as affected, and he doesn't even know why, but he just knows that he feels so sorry for you. You're in therapy and taking prescription medication, which seems to be helping a little, but you still have those damn hallucinations.

On a evening when your house seemed to be becoming a home again, you were in the living room trying to distract yourself, coloring in a coloring book that Satoru gave you, at the request of your psychiatry, saying that it would probably be good for your mind. Satoru was making dinner, and everything seemed normal.

Until you started having hallucinations again, but since you can also see cursed spirits (even though none have ever appeared in your house), you never know if those things are real. You can't identify the creatures that appear to you, much less the voices. To you, they are all real. You were so scared, you went to Satoru, who was in the kitchen and tugged at his shirt. He already knew what it was about, you always did that.

"They're not real, sweetheart. "

He said and patted your head, a soft smile on his face.