I Was Kidnapped by a Book and Ended Up Saving the World - Chapter 23

Satoru Gojo stood on the podium, with Yuki by his side. Suguru Geto sat in the front row, legs crossed, propping his chin with his hand. He had a look that said, Let’s see what nonsense you two are up to now, as he watched the pair on the stage.

Yuki rubbed his flushed cheeks, still warm from Gojo’s playful grip. Gojo hadn’t held back at all—he practically kneaded Yuki’s face like dough.

Although the thought seemed improbable, Gojo had indeed pointed Yuki in a certain direction: for some reason, Yuki’s body was supplying life to Suguru Geto.

It was like a single white spider thread descending from the sky, gradually pulling Suguru out of the darkness of hell.

Yuki rubbed his fingertip, feeling strangely curious for the first time about whose persona his body had borrowed when the book assembled it for him.

There was no way to investigate, but the strange light in Gojo’s blue eyes in front of him only grew more pronounced.

Yuki lowered his gaze to the spot where Gojo had pressed on him. His chest and internal organs felt completely fine, still strong and steady. In a daze, he could even hear his own heartbeat.

He covered the spot with his hand and looked up at Gojo. “Teacher… could this harm me?” His voice softened. “If there really is such a binding.”

Gojo ignored the “if” in his words. He leaned against the blackboard with a loud thud, arms crossed, and scanned Yuki with a frustrated look, as if exasperated at a stubborn student. “Do you really think you can bring someone back to life?”

He lifted Yuki by the collar, weighing him like a little puppy. When Yuki was set down and began adjusting his clothes, Gojo half-closed his eyes and said, “The other side can’t respond. Your sacrifice is merely a self-imposed futility.”

Gojo gave his answer plainly: “At most, you’ll just feel a little weak.” He fully closed his eyes, then discreetly lifted his left eye. Yuki’s expression barely changed. In theory, a powerful curse given unilaterally could be undone once understood, but…

Even after Gojo explained it this thoroughly, the cursed energy in Yuki’s body didn’t vanish. The white-haired, pink-eyed boy remained calm, as if he had naturally accepted everything, stubbornly resolute in his own way.

Gojo inhaled deeply, exasperated. “I can’t stand it. You’re just as stubborn as Geto.”

Switching to a colder, more pragmatic tone, he leaned forward slightly. Instantly, an overwhelming presence, like an avalanche, pressed down on them. “Listen, kid. The person you keep obsessing over is long dead. No matter how unwilling you are to accept it, they won’t come back to life, nor will they appear as a ghost in your dreams.”

In the distance, Suguru, lounging lazily, rose and drifted over to them. Even in that instant, Gojo caught Yuki’s subtle change in expression.

He forcibly turned Yuki’s head to meet his gaze. “The people in your hallucinations aren’t real either.” Gojo paused. For a moment, he truly didn’t know what to do with this child. Finally, he lowered his eyes, looking at those pitiful pink eyes, and softly said, “Even he wouldn’t be happy seeing you waste your life like this.”

Previously, Yuki’s ears had mostly ignored Gojo’s words—but this one sentence made him lower his gaze. Gojo had hit the mark: even though Suguru benefited from the unknown binding, Yuki still went to Gojo for help when his life was threatened.

“I’m not good at saying sentimental things,” Gojo said, feigning a stern scare for the kid, hands stuffed into his pockets. He sighed, realizing he wasn’t skilled at raising children—yet he kept running into so many of them.

He placed his hand on Yuki’s head, then pressed harder, tangling the neatly combed hair into a messy heap. Seeing Yuki unsettled cheered Gojo slightly.

“But now that you’re here, I have to take care of you no matter what. Consider it settling things for him.” Gojo recalled how heavy Yuki felt compared to when he first arrived—slightly heavier—and felt he had done his duty.

Yuki looked up. His pink eyes glimmered with moisture. He nodded lightly, messy white hair adding a touch of rebellious charm to his overall presence.

“I’ll take you to visit Geto’s grave tomorrow,” Gojo said, patting Yuki’s head gently. “If you want to say something to him, you can at the gravesite.”

Rarely showing such tenderness, Gojo’s words brought tears to Yuki’s eyes, and he nodded.

Back in the dorm, Suguru couldn’t help but smile. Sitting in his chair, he said amusingly, “So… what do you want to tell me?”

Yuki lay on the desk, his cheek squashed into a soft mound. “Don’t laugh at me, Teacher.”

Sitting there, Suguru realized Gojo had made it clear: if the other side of the binding supplied life, what did Yuki truly want?

He asked directly.

Yuki looked up. His goals were simple: complete the book’s tasks and grow stronger. He hadn’t sacrificed himself for anyone else, so he guessed the book’s constructed shell might have a flaw—perhaps it replicated someone willing to sacrifice their life for Suguru, even to the point of a binding.

All these thoughts swirled in Yuki’s mind. He lowered his gaze, long white lashes fluttering, hiding his emotions.

“I want to get stronger,” Yuki whispered.

Suguru smiled, rubbing his brow. “This kind of binding, where neither side fully understands, is really frustrating.” He looked at Yuki. “If your body shows any abnormal signs, tell me immediately. Your safety comes first.”

Yuki nodded lightly.

He stored this matter in his heart, waiting for new clues to fully understand the strange binding. For now, there were no further leads.

Yuki shifted his attention. “Teacher… is there anything you want to eat?”

After all, they would be making offerings tomorrow, so they’d bring something the deceased liked.

Suguru’s eyes curved. He glanced at Yuki teasingly. “Little Snowflake, I think you should ask your wallet first—it might have another opinion.”

Yuki slid under the covers, where his room had a bed and an additional floor mat. Suguru didn’t need sleep, but Yuki couldn’t leave him standing while he slept—besides, Suguru had guided him plenty.

Suguru sat on the floor mat, floating slightly above it. Though sitting, he didn’t feel the bed’s softness; it was just to honor the child’s intentions.

Yuki poked out his fluffy head, turning it toward Suguru. “I earned a little money helping the cafeteria staff the past few days.”

“One thousand yen—not much, but enough if there’s something you want to eat.”

Yuki carefully held the crumpled bill, and Suguru realized he hadn’t been saving it for himself—he’d been saving it for him.

Yuki’s soft gaze from under the covers stirred a mixture of emotions in Suguru. In the end, he simply covered his face and sighed.

“Even though he’s a student we raised together…” Suguru muttered, looking at him. The student didn’t respond; his eyes were like moist rabbit eyes.

“Bring me a serving of soba in a basket,” Suguru said, then pressed his brow and changed his mind. “Forget it, keep your money. You said you wanted to buy gloves anyway.”

“What flavor?” Yuki thought briefly. Soba wasn’t expensive, and he had just enough money.

“Plain is fine.” Suguru turned away, feeling slightly embarrassed. Seeing Yuki’s visible poverty, he felt as if he were squandering the boy’s last funds.

A night without dreams.

The next day, Yuki met Gojo again. He was still in his uniform, the well-fitted cloth accentuating his neat figure. In the sunlight, his smiling face was dazzling as ever.

Gojo noticed Yuki’s empty hands. “Nothing to bring?”

Yuki took out the crumpled bill. “I brought money. I’ll buy it later.” The school was too remote; he couldn’t even afford a taxi. He planned to use Gojo’s teleportation.

Gojo chuckled. “By the way, why haven’t you added your upperclassmen on Line?”

The question left Yuki and Suguru completely silent. After a moment, Yuki explained, “Teacher… I don’t have a phone.”

He stared at Gojo through the blindfold. Gojo was incredulous. “Wait, didn’t I give you pocket money?”

He secretly laughed, running his hand through Yuki’s soft hair as the boy leaned on his shoulder. “No need to be shy here. I’m super rich, you know—your spicy teacher Gojo.”

“What are you planning to buy with this?” Gojo flicked the crumpled bill with his finger.

“A serving of soba in a basket.” Yuki carefully pocketed the bill. Even though Gojo had said he could help with anything, Yuki wasn’t used to relying on others.

Gojo fell silent, standing under the sun with a faint smile. “Let’s go. I’ll take you to a place he loved.”

He lifted Yuki, teleporting them instantly. Yuki, feet not touching the ground, realized one problem: Suguru couldn’t teleport. Would he be left behind? Would the soba even reach him?

At that moment, Suguru appeared in front of him. The tall man straightened his somewhat messy clothes and said, “It must be the binding. If I’m too far, I get pulled to you.”

“Let’s talk when we get back,” he added quietly.

He couldn’t talk too long—Gojo already suspected Yuki might have psychological issues. More talking might require mental care.

They were in a scenic, secluded spot. One grave stood before them. Gojo held a bouquet of white flowers. Yuki silently offered the steaming soba.

Suguru sat on his grave, quietly eating. Everything was still.

But when Yuki and Gojo settled, faces solemn, Suguru’s lips curved into a faint smile.

He gestured at the grave. “I’m buried right here.” Stretching lazily, he said, “To continue existing in the world after death… that’s incredible.”

He reclined backward, sinking lightly into the ground, disappearing silently into darkness.

Yuki guessed he was checking his own corpse. Having seen so many, he could roughly estimate the state of decay.

“He was my closest friend,” Gojo said, resting a hand on the gravestone with a nostalgic smile.

Almost the next second, Suguru’s head emerged from the soil, followed by his entire body floating out. His expression was genuinely astonished.

“Yuki… my coffin is empty.”