chapter 3: first day rule

in which all is ill-defined

cw: unhealthy relationships galore

Teleporting is not comfortable, but it does not last long enough to complain. A pressure builds in the ears, like ascending rapidly in a small elevator shooting beyond the ozone, and right when you think you can no longer stand the sensation of your brain being compressed to the size of a millet seed, it ends. The world snaps back into place, and all you're left with is a smug Gojou Satoru, only one in the world who can Apparate like they do in that Harry Potter series and aren't you lucky to witness it.

Fushiguro Megumi tries to avoid side-along teleportation (and Gojou Satoru, for that matter) as much as possible. Satoru has done it to him a handful of times, typically only when it's Curse-related. For a guy who never needs to suffer the burden of traffic, Satoru spends a decent amount of time in the car or on public transportation, probably finding it amusing the way celebrities go incognito to "experience normal life." The times Satoru chooses to teleport are erratic, with the primary intent of massively inconveniencing the person he is teleporting to. The adults at Jujutsu High keep a tally of how many dates of theirs Satoru has crashed, with Iori Utahime in the lead and Nanami Kento a close second.

Megumi himself has experienced these bouts of massive inconvenience enough over the course of his life that he now knows when Satoru is about to arrive a split second before he does. (The worst was when Satoru had burst in the middle of a classmate's confession and had vehemently insisted that he alone was worthy of being Megumi's Valentine, reducing the girl to tears). Cursed Energy concentrates in a corner of hospital room 1016, to the right of an IV pole where an empty bag of saline hangs. The monotone of Tsumiki's monitors abruptly swells, Megumi blinks, and Satoru is there, one arm wound around a woman with a green braid and purple sweater that don't match. Her Cursed Energy, though, is recognizable in an instant.

Morimoto Yuna steps out of Satoru's hold. "Thank you."

Satoru tucks his hands in his pockets. "No problem."

Megumi stands up immediately to bow, his mathematics workbook clattering to the ground in the process. He does not want to dwell on why Yuna and Satoru were embracing when Satoru needs "only a single finger's worth of surface area" to teleport someone with him.

"Yuna-san," Megumi greets.

"It's good to see you, Megumi-kun." She bows in return, even though they are far past this kind of formality. Megumi doesn't know how to break the habit; even with her odd green hair, something about Yuna compels him to behave. (Maki had once accidentally cursed in front of Yuna and, with a mere, "Language, Maki-san," had been made to feel as if she'd shat on a shrine to all her dead ancestors—"Not that they wouldn't deserve it, if they're part of that family.")

Yuna looks well, healthy, tanner than Megumi remembers her. Certainly, the hair is a surprise, but he thinks it suits her in an unexpected way, like ivy in a desert. She had texted him several weeks ago about her visit, and even though he is glad to see her, after so many years, Megumi has learned how to guard his expectations.

"You're here so late." Yuna picks up Megumi's workbook and sets it aside. She makes no movement to hug him, much to Megumi's relief; she has never been a particularly physical person (so why had she been hugging Satoru—nope, he will not go down that road). "Did you eat?"

"Yeah, I had dinner."

Yuna spots the empty plastic bowl of instant ramen on the bedstand. "Did you only eat ramen?"

"It's fine." Megumi looks down at the bed, where his stepsister lays comatose, completely unaware of him. He hopes whatever curse afflicting his sister is truly as peaceful as she appears. The crimson runes brand her forehead like a crown. "The auxiliary manager who was supposed to come back for the evening shift didn't show up. I figured something was going on at the School based on your text, and I didn't want her to be alone in case something happened."

Yuna's eyes soften. "I see. We'll get something for you later then. Gojou-kun mentioned pasta, if you are up for more noodles."

Satoru blanches. "Hey, that was supposed to be for me and you."

Yuna ignores him and bows at Tsumiki's sleeping figure. "Tsumiki-kun, it's good to see you. I'm sorry to be so late. I will be redoing your Barriers tonight, if you will give me a moment."

"I dunno why you do this each time." Satoru slides into the cushioned red seat next to Megumi, Infinity protecting him from the millions of germs stuck to the cheap fake leather. "She can't hear you."

"You do not know that." Yuna sets down her bag and pulls out a medium-sized scroll, which she unrolls to several rows of ofuda, all identical with the word "Hidden" on them written in bright red ink.

"You're re-doing her Barriers tonight?" Megumi frowns. "You usually do them on your last day."

Yuna kneels on the speckled tiled floor and plasters one underneath Tsumiki's bed. "Extenuating circumstances, Megumi-kun."

"What's going on?"

"Don't worry about it for now." Yuna looks up at Tsumiki, as if making sure she isn't being disturbed, before she proceeds with another talisman on the opposite corner of the bed.

Satoru clicks absentmindedly through his phone. "Yuna's staying for a while this time."

"You are?" Megumi says, surprised.

Yuna takes a moment to respond, clearly thinking over her answer as she begins to line beneath the windowsill that carries several bouquets, sent by Tsumiki's school friends who think her coma is the result of some freak accident. The peonies are too strong, clashing with the hospital's antiseptic in a combination that makes Megumi's head pound, but Tsumiki had always liked flowers and Megumi can't bring himself to throw them out.

"Yes," Yuna relents. "Likely through the New Year."

Considering that Yuna's visits are normally two weeks, maximum, Megumi knows something serious is going on. "Why?"

She glances back at him as she proceeds to line the door frame. "You sound displeased."

"No," says Megumi quickly, "I'm not, it's just…"

Yuna's lips quirk. "I'm teasing, Megumi-kun. Extenuating circumstances, like I'd said. You'll find out later. I'd rather not talk about it tonight."

Megumi looks at Satoru for further explanation, but he just shrugs, clearly not in the mood to discuss either. Satoru's moods vacillate when Yuna is around, either oddly thoughtful or outrageously obnoxious, and Megumi never knows which one he is going to get. He finds both unsettling.

"That should be sufficient." Yuna examines the last seal she has adhered to the very bottom of the door frame, where she has peeled back the rubber barrier over where the wall meets the floor. "The ones from earlier this year should still have resonance."

She steps back and pushes up her sleeve to reveal her forearm littered in ink. She pricks her finger with a needle and presses a drop of blood onto "Barrier," which glows green, surrounded by two tattooed, circling koi that are new to Megumi.

"You should use my Cursed Energy," says Satoru abruptly.

"That's not necessary, Gojou-kun."

"Why?" The seat that had squeaked unpleasantly when Megumi had shifted in it is now soundless as Satoru stands and walks directly behind Yuna.

"My own is fine, and my Residuals are less obvious than yours—"

"The seals are stronger with mine," cuts in Satoru. This means Satoru has chosen the obnoxious route today. "This is Tsumiki we're talking about. Don't be proud, Yuna."

Yuna looks unhappy but resigned. Normally, Megumi would call Satoru out on his bullheadedness, but Tsumiki's Barriers are of the highest-grade Yuna can offer, and repairing them often wipes her out of the rest of the day. Despite how difficult and condescending he can be, both of them recognize when Satoru is being kind, and they know better than to argue.

She takes his proffered hand, her perfect black manicure striking against Satoru's palm, like drops of ink on washi.

"If I may, Gojou-kun."

Satoru's Cursed Energy ripples into Yuna's arm and Barrier blares as bright as a traffic light. All around Tsumiki's room, each seal lights up in shining marigold confluence, strongest right over Tsumiki's bed. It fades after several seconds, and then they are back in hospital room 1016 where all Megumi can pay attention to is the reassuring beep of Tsumiki's heart monitor. The pungent peony-antiseptic scent has lessened, replaced by something clear and comforting, and Megumi relaxes for the first time since Yuna had texted him that she was coming back.

Yuna takes her hand away from Satoru and gives him a small bow.

"Thank you."

"What are you doing that for?" he smirks. "Come on. Let's go get dinner, I'm starving."

"Thanks, Yuna-san," says Megumi. "I'll head home soon."

"Let's get dinner, Megumi-kun."

Megumi glances at Satoru, unconsciously asking for permission, but Satoru just waves him over.

"Come on, Megumi. You're so lucky. I'm faster than the subway."

"Faster than the bullet train," says Yuna in a rare joke. She gestures for Megumi too, and he shuffles over with his bookbag and half-finished math homework. Satoru slings his arms around both over their shoulders, his tremendous height requiring him to stoop awkwardly, but he grins widely and for once, it is sincere.

It almost makes Megumi do the same.

Winter shines on Jujutsu High with a cloudless sky and golden sun of little warmth. The pond has frozen over, glistening with molecules of sunlight so bright it is nearly painful. The old bamboo well is still, and beneath the inch of ice, the koi are silent and asleep.

Yuna wakes up late, when the sun already beams high in the sky. Jet lag had hit her hard in the middle of dinner. Satoru had initially taken them to an upscale Italian restaurant where the descriptor of a "nice date spot" had been a gross understatement. Megumi had taken one look at the prix fixe menu, the white tablecloths, the dim, candlelit atmosphere and had announced he was going to go home, unwilling to be the "third wheel of whatever shit this is." Satoru had tried to convince Megumi that in reality, Yuna was the third wheel to the two of them, but in the end had relented to eating at an udon place two blocks down. It had been even better than Yuna had expected, slurping steaming soups and sitting mostly in silence save for Satoru's nonsensical chatter. Yuna had ordered two beers and had finished most of Satoru's, which was probably too much for her right after an international flight. She remembers feeling exhausted but warm and pleasant, temporarily forgetting about Suguru and Tsumiki and the Higher-Ups and impending chaos. Instead, she remembers only the solid weight of Satoru's body against hers, along with the faint memory of Megumi suggesting that it is time to go home and "Don't be an ass, Gojou, she has her own room, and it's not yours."

Now in the light of day, she blames her behavior on the beers and the flight and a stupid rule that she and Satoru have agreed upon when it comes to the first day they see each other again after a long separation. The night is over now, though, and self-indulgence is a debt Yuna always pays back threefold. She dresses quickly, stops by the cafeteria for a breakfast of a single boiled egg before immediately setting out for Barrier work.

It is one of those days when the air is so crisp it bites, even though the first snow has yet to fall this season. Yuna takes her time with the Barriers around the School, taking down old, weathered washi from years prior and securing new ones in place. It is routine, mundane work that she remembers from even her high school days, but it soothes her even though nostalgia has never cradled her gently. She lingers near the koi pond on the way to the storage rooms, enjoying her old favorite spot. It is as if she had not stabbed herself here with Nightmare's Whim for the first time so many years ago, as if coming back to Tokyo does not cause a part of her to regress into something repulsive, as if Suguru had not appeared outside the walls of this School only hours prior to prove, yet again and again, that nostalgia is a worthless aperitif for the main course of hateful truth.

She squints at the frozen pond. The maples lording over its surface have clung well to their leaves, scattered red brighter than blood. It's too quiet. Los Angeles had been noisy at first, a city of angels loud and unrepentant. Moving there had reminded her of when she'd first come to Tokyo from the countryside—overwhelmed by the constancy of activity and its reminder of life behind it. The campus had been her refuge, insulation from the ignorant, but now she finds it eerie, like soundproofing a room only to realize no one can hear you scream.

"Leaves are falling late this year." Yaga joins her, having come from the storage room with a bag full of nondescript items: cotton, pocket knives, a hammer. "Can't say I'm complaining."

Yuna nods, deciding not to ask him what he is building next. "The leaves don't fall in Los Angeles. It's warm all year round."

"Sounds terrible."

"It's nice."

"You only appreciate the beauty of things when you know they won't last," says Yaga wisely.

She hums. "Quite sentimental of you, Yaga-sensei."

"Read it on an inspirational calendar or something," he admits. "You sleep all right?"

Yuna nods. "Yes."

"Satoru didn't bother you?"

"He did not…" Yuna frowns. "We did not sleep together, Yaga-sensei. We do not. Together."

"I wasn't asking," he says breezily. "Don't wanna know."

"Yaga-sensei, it is important that you and everyone else are not under the impression that Gojou Satoru and I have that kind of relationship—"

"Yuna, I think that ship has sailed. Satoru hasn't gotten a request for marriage in years."

"Because he is a child."

"Not anymore."

"The stunt he pulled five years ago was a childish tantrum that I had no part in. I was in Spain." Yuna stares firmly at Yaga, who just smirks at her. "Nothing has changed. I am an Object on Gojou inventory. Gojou-kun is an eligible bachelor who is welcome to entertain as many marriage prospects as he sees fit."

Yaga shrugs, clearly unconvinced. "So, none then."

"Yaga-sensei—"

"I know, Yuna," he says, voice serious. "There's always rumors floating around. I just happen to prefer this one over the others."

Yuna falls silent. I see Suguru more than you do. The shock wears off.

She does not know how much Yaga is aware of, only that he does not know that Yuna sometimes prefers this rumor over the others, too.

Yaga clears his throat. "You about done with your routine stuff? I can send Maki and the new kid your way."

"Ah." She glances at the pond again. "Yes, please have them meet me at the front gate."

"Sure." Yaga pulls out his phone. Seconds later, there is the telltale "whoosh" sound of a sent text message. "I'll walk with you."

They head over together, Yaga's body providing Yuna some shade from the sun. Unlike the others, Yaga has never visited her overseas, and unlike the others, has never resented her for leaving. If anything, Yuna thinks he prefers it; he is the only one interested in her travels and calls her the globetrotter even though Satoru insists he has been to just as many countries, maybe even more, and with less environmental impact too.

"Glad to have you back for a longer time. Did you tell Tsukumo we need her to come back, too?" asks Yaga.

Yuna fixes him with a look. "No. I believe we both know what she will say."

"Shit, this is a legitimate threat that may wipe out two major cities in Japan, and you think that bum still won't return?"

"You know as well as I do that she does not wholeheartedly disagree with Getou-kun's approach," says Yuna sagely. "It is a subject we tend to avoid."

"It's madness!"

Her scrolls clunk against each other. "According to Yuki-san, it is all subjective."

"How is genocide being bad subjective?"

They stroll past the cafeteria, where the scent of steamed rice wafts out the kitchens and reminds Yuna of how small her breakfast had been. "She thinks her choice is just as reasonable as Gojou-kun deciding to take Okkotsu-kun under his wing. Why is Getou-kun a nuclear bomb when Okkotsu-kun is not?"

"Because Suguru is a bomb that has declared his intention to detonate in a month!"

Yuna shakes her head. "You are trying to convince the wrong person, Yaga-sensei. I am here, am I not? And I find Okkotsu-kun pleasant, based on our limited interaction from yesterday. I am merely trying to explain why convincing Yuki-san to return is pointless."

"Has she even accomplished anything in the last ten years, sitting on that high horse of hers?"

Yuna bares a thin smile. "Yes and no."

She does not elaborate further. They reach the front gate, where Maki stands as if she has been assigned sentry duty, with her back as straight as her spear. Her Special-Grade classmate hovers behind her awkwardly, picking as his nails; Yuna can see his frenetic anxiety taking shape in the form of jagged peaks of Cursed Energy from meters away. She does indeed find Yuuta pleasant, if not slightly amusing, and wonders what she would have done if he had been in her class so many years ago. She would have liked him, maybe even more than she'd liked Suguru. Satoru would have bullied him to tears, and Suguru might have joined in on the fun, only to take pity on Yuuta and teach him in the end.

Ironic, now, how the roles have reversed.

"Good afternoon, Morimoto-san!" Yuuta bows deeply. "Yaga-sensei!"

Maki reluctantly nods her head. "Hi."

"Thank you for meeting me out here in the cold," says Yuna, bowing her head back. "I hope I haven't taken you away from your classes."

"It's just Gojou," says Maki, reducing the Strongest Sorcerer in the world to an irritant. Yuna likes that about Maki, her self-assuredness even if it is some part bravado, enough to see the once-in-a-millennia Gojou heir as human. Maybe some credit should be given to Satoru, too, to be able to interact with his students as such.

"He's still helpful," says Yuuta. Maki shoots him a glare, and he withers on the spot. "At least, I think so…sometimes…"

Yaga snorts. "Good kid."

Yuna smiles. "Maki-san, can we start with you? Okkotsu-kun might take me some more time, and I don't want you to wait out here in the cold."

"I'm fine," she shrugs. "I don't really get cold."

Toji didn't get cold either, always complaining that the apartment was a fucking furnace, but he was too cheap to turn on the air conditioning.

Yuna blinks away the memory. It has been a decade, and Yuna does not think he should cross her mind as frequently as he does. It would perhaps help if Megumi did not look more and more like his father with every passing day, or if Maki and her complete lack of Cursed Energy did not remind Yuna constantly of terms like Heavenly Restriction and the shitheads of the Zen'in clan.

She reveals none of these thoughts, instead simply drawing a shallow cut along the crease of her palm and extending it out for Maki, who gives her hand to Yuna grudgingly as always. Yuna knows it is not fair, singling Maki out each time as the anomaly she is so acutely aware she is, but two Heavenly Restrictions existing in one generation means memory of its danger lives long enough to learn from—even if the Zen'in clan itself has apparently learned nothing at all.

Yuna had learned her lesson well. She considers it the lesson Toji had taught her best, even though, just like everything else when it comes to her and Toji, it matters little in the end.

August 2016. Los Angeles.

"Now we each have a pick the Higher-Ups hate," Satoru rifles through her mail pile without her permission. "Yaga gets his panda, Shouko gets Toge, you get Maki, I get Okkotsu Yuuta. I bet mine will win."

"We are not betting," Yuna says sharply as she flips a pancake. American breakfast had been Satoru's request after his "very long, very uncomfortable flight all the way to Los Angeles and how rude is it that you don't have anything for me to eat!" Never mind that Yuna had received no notice of Satoru's visit besides her young landlady's very jaded report in time—she will need to buy Josie-san some fruit as an apology for Satoru's boorishness.

Her apartment is in the center of Koreatown, small and cramped but with updated appliances and a fresh coat of paint that makes the studio seem bigger than it is. Her twin bed is pushed near the window, separated from the rest of the living space by a long, mostly empty bookshelf. Satoru gives himself a tour of the space in five long strides while Yuna digs into her cabinets for pancake batter.

While she mixes it, Satoru casually announces that he has found a brand-new high school student who is conveniently harboring a Special Grade Curse, and what does Yuna think about having him join the first-year-class at Jujutsu High with her precious Zen'in Maki?

"These are kids, not horses," she says. "Please be more serious, Gojou-kun."

"You're right, they're kids!" agrees Satoru. "Okkotsu Yuuta-kun is just a kid. You're gonna execute a cute little kid?"

"I did not say that, but he is a 'cute little kid' with a very powerful Special Grade Curse that he cannot control. Maybe you should not be so cavalier as to have him just join the first-year class without prior training. What if he ends up hurting them?"

The pancake sears golden brown and she wiggles it out of the frying pan onto a plain ceramic plate. Her studio apartment smells too sweet. Satoru drops her mail back in the cheap wicker basket on the kitchen counter, takes the plate, and sniffs it.

"Chocolate chips?" he asks.

"I don't have any."

"Whipped cream?"

"None."

"Yuna," he whines.

"There's syrup in the fridge." She drops another dollop of batter onto the pan, where it begins to sizzle and bubble on contact.

"It's a Special Grade Curse he can be taught to control." Satoru scoots behind her to open the refrigerator, but not before his hand brushes her lower back and rests just a hint too long on her hip as he balances himself to study the refrigerator. "I can handle it. Her. Him. And the rest of the class isn't so wimpy. You treat Maki so precious. I had to go out on a limb for her too, y'know."

"You remind me each time I see you," says Yuna thinly.

"I didn't even want another Zen'in, I have Megumi."

"He is a Fushiguro. And you act as if Jujutsu High enrollment is not so abysmal that you can afford to be picky."

"Yuna, we are a premiere institution! The best in the world in the art of curse exorcism, and you made me accept a monkey with no Cursed Energy!"

"Satoru." Yuna glances over at him as he straightens up with a jar of maple syrup in hand, his grin wide.

"You know I'm kidding."

"I don't like it, even as a joke. I hope you don't say that around Maki-san."

"She calls herself a monkey!" Satoru drowns the pancake in syrup, a one-to-one ratio. Yuna plops a second pancake on top of it with a disgruntled squelch.

"Then make her stop."

"I can't make Maki do anything," sniffs Satoru. "Girl is strong as shit and doesn't listen to me."

Yuna hums. "Good."

"Not good, you want my Special Grade students running around not listening to me?"

She scoops in the remainder of her batter into the pan. "Now you know how I felt."

Satoru seems surprised, as if he had not quite made that connection. He rolls his pancakes like they're egg rolls and chews through them like finger food, dripping syrup all over his plate and the rest of the crowded kitchen counter. It's unconventional and gross.

"Gojou-kun, you're making a mess."

He licks his fingers. "Sorry, sensei."

She laughs without thinking, and Satoru grins down at her. When she makes a movement to dump the last pancake on his now empty plate, he shakes his head.

"You eat it."

"I'm not hungry for something sweet right now."

"Yeah?" He leans down and kisses her, catching her off guard. It lasts just a bare second before Satoru leans away, knowing just how long Yuna will tolerate it. Her lips are sticky and saccharine with syrup.

"First day rule," he says before she can argue.

She frowns. "Fine."

He hums and comes behind her while she slides the pancake onto his old plate and puts the frying pan in the sink to soak the burnt rinds. She feels his head rest on top of hers, heavy and uncomfortable, but he does not touch her anywhere else.

"That girl downstairs," each word digs his jaw into the top of her head, "said you wouldn't fuck me."

Yuna pours dish soap into the sink and lets the water run, filling up the pan with suds. It smells like fake roses, and Yuna makes a mental note never to buy this brand again.

"Why in the world would that come up in conversation with Josie-san?"

"She said I have a look." He shifts closer and his arms come on either side of body, caging her against the sink. "She said that you'll only fuck people who have sworn you a binding vow."

Yuna thinks about Yuki. She had been the one to choose the dish soap, the last time she'd visited. "It's a general rule for men."

"So that includes me, right?"

"Satoru."

His head slips off hers and his face suddenly appears in front of hers. He has pushed his blindfold off of one eye, and Yuna stares into cut sapphire glimering like a sacred stone that threatens to spit her reflection back at her.

"Missed you," Satoru says, and she can feel his throat vibrate with the words. "Came here to tell you that."

"I thought you came here to tell me that you found a Special Grade Curse User whom you want to recruit."

"That, too. But didn't really need your opinion for it. Coulda texted you that."

"You could've texted me the other thing, too."

He leans in close and kisses her again, this time long enough that the taste of syrup dissipates into just the taste of Satoru, and Yuna does not know when it so happened that she has learned to recognize it, much less learned to like it. His arms finally inch in and wrap around her waist, and Satoru breaks the kiss so he can press his lips to cheek and her temple and then his breath brushes the shell of her ear.

"The first day rule doesn't work over text."

She doesn't remember which one of them came up with the rule—a dumb, little thing, a crutch they created for when they are too honest with each other but do not know how to deal with the consequences. Nothing counts in the first twenty-four hours after they see each other: the kisses or whatever happens after, but even though Yuna wants very badly to lean into Satoru's touch because she has missed him too, the words uttered, the resentment and guilt and anger and hurt don't count either—

The suds rise and threaten to overflow the sink.

"Are we talking about the same Special Grade Curse User, still?"

"Eh?"

She turns off the faucet. "You don't miss me unless you're missing him."

The arms around her stiffen, and Yuna immediately regrets being cruel. He releases her and steps back as far as her kitchen will allow.

"Goddammit, Yuna," he mutters, tugging his blindfold back down.

"Sorry." She catches his wrist just as he moves to leave the kitchen. "I take it back. First day rule, Gojou-kun."

He pauses in place, and Yuna counts the seconds go by through the pulse point she cradles beneath her fingertips.

He relaxes after ten beats. "Fine." He presses his lips to her forehead. "First day rule."

November 5th, 2017

To: Dickhead

[03:44] Fuck you, dude.

[03:45] You're up early. Or maybe up late.
[03:46] Couldn't sleep?

[03:47] You're up too.
[03:47] I thought declaring genocide would put you right to sleep.
[03:48] Your ultimate dream and whatnot.

[03:49] Ha ha. I don't have anything against the School.
[03:50] Not without qualms there.

[03:51] Sure didn't seem like it.
[03:52] Threatening kids and all.

[03:53] They were not seriously under threat.
[03:54] Even without sensei's nice little touch.
[03:54] You were there, after all.
[03:57] Tell her it was nice to see her, by the way.
[03:58] Even though I'd rather her stay in America.

[03:59] You're the only one who prefers her there.

[04:00] She prefers it too, I think.

[04:02] Fuck off.

[04:04] You wish. Maybe in December. One of us will have to.

[04:05] Seriously, you dickhead.
[04:06] You can't be real about this.

[04:07] I guess you'll just have to see.
[04:10] Can you tell sensei
[04:12] I'll ship her luggage back to her.

[04:15] I'm not telling her jackshit from you.

[04:16] What, is being a messenger boy beneath the great Gojou Satoru?
[04:18] Kidding.
[04:19] You can claim credit. Be the hero.
[04:22] It's what you always wanted, right?

Maki is always like this with her, a bit jittery, never rude but certainly never comfortable. Yuna does not know if Maki remembers their first meeting so many years ago in the Zen'in gardens, when they'd both suffered abuse at the hands of Zen'in Naoya. Yuna imagines it is not a memory Maki particularly cherishes, especially with how strong she has become. Yuna has never brought it up, and Maki acts as if the first time they'd ever met was on Jujutsu High Campus, where Maki had chosen to belong. No matter how often Satoru likes to remind Yuna that admitting Maki after she defected from the Zen'in clan was a favor she should never forget, Yuna has never considered it such—she is not the only one who learned a lesson from Toji. Satoru knows better than to ignore Maki's potential.

Yuna has done this Barrier tailoring enough times she considers it familiar, brushing against that vast nothingness inside Maki and modifying her Barrier to allow only Maki's brand of emptiness in. It's different from Toji's in a way Yuna cannot quite pinpoint, simply not as overwhelming and soul-shattering as his; perhaps it has to do with an identical twin of Maki's in Kyoto, who does have Cursed Energy, or perhaps it is simply because Maki left the home of her abusers long before Toji had, with some part of her soul still intact.

The main Barrier shimmers and the blood at Yuna's wrist dries into Cursed Energy that resonates with the talisman's she'd placed earlier in the morning. The moment the Barrier stabilizes, Maki snatches her hand out of Yuna's and shakes it out like she is shaking out a cramp.

"Are you okay?" asks Yuna.

"Yeah, it just feels…" Maki shudders a bit. "It's fine. It happens each time." She pauses. "Like it has to think twice about me."

"Ah." Yuna thinks about her seals but cannot identify a clear culprit. "I didn't realize that was happening. I'll try to fix it."

"It's fine," says Maki brusquely. "It's not a big deal. I'm gonna head in for lunch. Okkotsu, I'll meet you on the training grounds after."

"Okay, see you there, Maki-san!"

The Zen'in daughter stalks off, leaving Yuna with the Special Grade and Yaga. Yuuta's Cursed Energy is massive, even more overbearing than Satoru's, likely because Satoru keeps his so tightly controlled. Yuna studies the silver band on Yuuta's finger, which has a slightly different Cursed Energy signature than the one that clings to Yuuta's body, but it is not as distinct as Yuna would have expected for a separate Curse.

"Okkotsu-kun, yesterday I used your Cursed Energy for the Barriers after Getou-kun arrived," she says. "The Curse bound to you…Rika-chan, I will need to register her Energy separately. It will be a bit difficult. Your signatures are quite entwined. It's almost as if…" Yuna stares harder, "as if Rika-chan's has molded yours. Or the other way around. It is difficult to tell which came first."

"Okay…" says Yuuta slowly, clearly not understanding.

"There's no blood relation between you two?"

"No, of course not!" Yuuta looks scandalized. "We were friends! No relation whatsoever."

"I see." Yuna frowns.

"Something wrong, Yuna?" asks Yaga.

"No." She does not know how to explain it. She is used to Suguru's Cursed Technique, where his Cursed Energy veils his Curses but each Curse still has a distinctive flavor. It makes tracking Suguru's Residuals tedious, as remnants of his Technique are often mottled with naturally occurring Curses, not just the ones he'd tamed. Rika and Yuuta's Cursed Energies, on the other hand, are too similar, as if one had birthed another. It makes her uncomfortable.

"If you don't mind, I'll need your hand, Okkotsu-kun," says Yuna. She cuts herself again and holds it out as blood pools in her palm like a bowl catching rain. "The one with your ring."

"Okay," he says uncertainly. "You won't…need me to release Rika-chan, right?"

"No, please don't. I just need to interact with her Cursed Energy briefly." Yuna's forearms glow in the sunlight, Barrier most strongly, but Blast and Calm light up as well. "Please give me a moment."

Her blood encases Yuuta's ring and gives a gentle, experimental tug. Instantly, Yuna feels a massive surge of Cursed Energy from the ring, cutting through her blood and into the open wound on her hand, lighting the blood under her skin on fire. Yuna jerks her hand back and a Barrier forms around her just as a writhing, corpus erupts from Yuuta's ring. Ivory ribs and black billows of Cursed Energy stretch out like a gaping yawn inhaling sunlight, before blasting straight at Yuna, shattering her Barrier like a sheaf of ice. She is thrown back and crashes into the torii pillar at the edge of the School, her head slamming back. Her vision spins and electricity seizes up and down her spine, paralyzing her.

"No, no, no!" An ethereal shriek emanates from the Curse towering over her. "You won't do that to me too!"

"Rika-chan!" bellows Yuuta, waving his hands frantically in front of her. "Rika-chan, calm down, it's okay! Stop it!"

"No, no, no!" screams Rika, the sound reverberating in Yuna's head as her vision dims. Overhead, the School's alarm blares, and Yuna is weakly conscious of Yaga at her side, yelling her name. "I know what she did to her Rika! I saw what you did to your child!"

Yuna's body contracts and all she can hear is Rika, all she can see is darkness, and maybe red, the color of maples, but darker, painted on candlelit wood. Somewhere in the void, she hears, "Kaa-san," and then she is drowning in waves of blood. She hears Rika scream one more time.

"Murderer."

Her vision lapses.