The Binding Vow of Lazarus

Chapter 57

The last of the Death Paintings finally stood, its form shuddering as its flesh settled into something resembling a man. Its gaze locked onto Suguru.

And then—

It tilted its head.

The room seemed to grow colder. Boe exhaled sharply through her nose. Yuki grinned.

Suguru swallowed the bile rising in his throat and stepped forward. "Welcome," he said, voice steady.

The abominations stared back, silent.

The eldest, the painting called Choso, stared down at his own body—pale, smooth, still glistening faintly with the remnants of his unnatural birth. His fingers flexed, testing the sensation of air against skin for the first time. It was strange. It was new.

Then his crimson eyes lifted, locking onto Suguru with eerie intensity.

"Why?" His voice was rough, unused, each syllable deliberate. "Why bring us into this world?"

Suguru smiled, the expression practiced, diplomatic. "I'd like to offer you a place to stay," he said, spreading his hands slightly. "A group to live with. We could work together—perhaps even become friends." He paused, letting the weight of his next words settle. "And together, we can right the wrongs of Jujutsu society."

Choso's brow furrowed, his gaze flickering over Suguru's face as if searching for deception.

Nearby, Yuki elbowed Boe in the ribs, her voice a stage whisper. "That body was my favorite."

Boe whipped her head toward her, nose wrinkled in disgust. "You think he's hot?"

Yuki nodded, unabashed. "Yeah. Hope he's got a good personality to match."

Boe made a retching noise, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. "You're disgusting."

Choso, oblivious—or perhaps choosing to ignore them—took a step forward, his bare feet leaving faint, damp prints on the stone. "You speak of wrongs," he said slowly. "What wrongs?"

Suguru's smile didn't waver. "The ones that created you."

A beat of silence.

"Can you promise that my brothers will be safe?" Choso asked.

"Yes," Suguru promised, "I can."

Then, from the back of the group, one of the younger Death Paintings let out a high, giggling laugh—a sound that echoed unnervingly through the chamber.

Boe shuddered. Yuki's grin widened. Suguru extended a hand toward Choso. "So. What do you say?"

Choso looked at the offered hand. Then at Suguru. And then—He reached out and took it.

Boe's boots thundered against the basement steps, each creak of the old wood echoing like a gunshot in the hollow silence. Her chest burned—not from exertion, but from the raw, clawing thing lodged behind her ribs. She didn't stop moving until she hit Rin's door, slamming it open with enough force to rattle the frame.

Rin, perched on the edge of her bed sharpening a dagger, barely had time to look up before Boe crashed into her, arms locking around her shoulders like a vice. Her body trembled—not with tears, but with something too jagged for words.

Rin stiffened for half a second—then exhaled, her free arm curling around Boe's waist, anchoring her. "Hey," she murmured, voice steady despite the surprise. "Okay. Okay."