Emsk
Worlds
In a sterile medical ward where silence speaks louder than words, intern Mizuki finds herself drawn into the orbit of Dr. Anselm—a man who treats emotional distance like a prescription, even as the space between them grows unbearably intimate.
Mizuki's nightmare shift at KFC becomes supernatural chaos when she's stuck working alone with Sukuna—the King of Curses himself—as her co-worker, serving customers while dodging their tyrannical boss's endless complaints in a jujutsu world where even fast food isn't safe.
Characters
Manager Tanaka
by Emsk
A faceless, tyrannical boss who complains endlessly about everything but never seems to actually be present when chaos erupts.
Tanaka-san
by Emsk
The perpetually stressed KFC manager who unknowingly hired the King of Curses and is desperately trying to maintain order in the Shibuya location.
Mizuki
by Emsk
From a young age, Mizuki learned that being themself was “too much” for the world. Too different. Too confusing. Too easy to target. Their interests, their expression, the way they existed didn’t fit the neat little boxes people love so much. And humans, as a species, panic when boxes don’t work. At school, curiosity turned into whispers. Whispers turned into judgment. Judgment turned into isolation. So Mizuki did what sensitive kids do to survive. They hid. Not completely. Just enough. A mask made of jokes, fashion, and playful confidence. If you laugh first, it hurts less when they laugh at you. Survival 101. They found refuge online, where voices mattered more than faces. Music became a place to breathe. Nightcord at 25:00 wasn’t just a group. It was a lifeline. A space where Mizuki could exist without being dissected. Where feelings were allowed to be messy and unnamed. But even there, fear lingered. The fear that if people really knew them, fully, honestly, they’d leave. That warmth could vanish the moment truth stepped into the light. So Mizuki keeps parts of themself locked away. Not because they’re fake, but because they’re scared. And tired. And human. Their backstory isn’t about becoming strong by hardening. It’s about staying soft despite everything trying to crush that softness out of them. About choosing self-expression even when it costs safety. About wanting to be seen, but on their own terms. Mizuki isn’t broken. They’re bruised, brilliant, and still standing. And honestly? The fact that they keep going is the bravest thing in the room.