Sayuri and Shoko sat on a stone wall overlooking Tokyo Jujutsu High, their legs swinging freely as the last rays of a setting sun painted the sky in warm oranges and soft pinks. A gentle breeze stirred the air, rustling the trees and muffling the distant sounds of students training. Shoko flicked her lighter, the small flame casting a brief glow against her face as she lit a cigarette. Inhaling deeply, she exhaled with a lazy grin and offered the cigarette to Sayuri.
Sayuri hesitated, her eyes flickering between the cigarette and Shoko's calm demeanor. Wanting to seem as unfazed as the girl beside her, she gingerly took the cigarette and brought it to her lips. But as smoke filled her lungs, it felt like she'd swallowed fire. Sayuri coughed violently, her body rejecting the sharp sensation. Tears welled in her eyes, and she hastily handed the cigarette back, shaking her head in defeat.
Shoko chuckled, taking another drag and exhaling smoothly. "First time?"
Sayuri rubbed at stinging eyes with the back of her hand, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "What gave it away?" she rasped, still recovering from the assault on her lungs.
Shoko smirked, her eyes twinkling. "It's not for everyone." She leaned back on her palms, her gaze drifting lazily to the vibrant horizon. They sat silently, the cool air between them peaceful until Shoko broke the stillness with a question that caught Sayuri off guard.
"Did you have a boyfriend at your old school?"
Sayuri nearly choked again—this time on nothing but air. She shook her head quickly, flustered by the sudden turn of their conversation. "I—I've never had a boyfriend," she stammered. Her fingers toyed with the edge of her sleeve. "I didn't have many friends either. Most people thought I was... strange."
Her admission hung in the air, heavy with the weight of old wounds. The vulnerability in her voice made her feel exposed, and her newfound confidence began to crumble. She stared ahead, her thoughts drifting to a time she had spent on the outskirts of other people's lives. Lonesome and resentment had become her friends.
Shoko's expression softened. "I'm sorry."
Sayuri shrugged, exhaling softly. "You get used to it after a while. At least I had my mom."
Shoko's eyes flickered with recognition, knowing all too well what those words carried. Sayuri didn't have her mother anymore. She took a long drag, watching the smoke swirl into the sky before speaking again. "People can be awful," she said, her voice both steady and slow. "They're afraid of anything they don't understand. But here… the one thing we all seem to share is knowing what it's like to feel different."
In a way, sorcerers were all outcasts—wielding powers that made them feared and misunderstood. And yet, they were expected to protect a world that often rejected them. It was a bitter truth but a shared one nonetheless.
Continued silence weighed heavily on the second-year. While she wasn't the most talkative, Sayuri seemed more withdrawn than usual. Shoko wasn't one to miss subtle shifts in her friends, and she couldn't help but guess this had to do with Suguru's absence. He had left a day prior, leaving Sayuri to wrestle with her thoughts while he and Satoru escorted Tengen's Vessel.
Shoko took a slow drag from her cigarette, exhaling the smoke in a languid stream as she considered breaking the tension. Her gaze flicked to Sayuri, and her tone turned light, almost teasing, to brighten the mood. "You know," Shoko began, flicking ash from her cigarette, "I've noticed how Suguru looks at you." A playful smirk tugged at her lips. "And when you're not around, he mopes. He was never like that before."
Sayuri's heart skipped, a familiar warmth creeping over her cheeks. Talking about Suguru with someone else—even Shoko—felt strange. She wasn't accustomed to sharing her feelings so openly, and realizing that Shoko truly wanted to know was both terrifying and a relief.
"How do you feel about him?" Shoko pressed, her smirk widening as she watched Sayuri's flustered reaction.
Sayuri quickly averted her gaze, fixing her eyes on the trees in the distance. Could she trust Shoko with something this personal? Experience told her that Shoko wasn't exactly known for keeping secrets, but the weight of her emotions had become unbearable. If she didn't say something, Sayuri feared she might burst.
Before she could answer, Shoko nudged her gently, her teasing demeanor softening. "It's okay," she said. "I'm sure you're worried about him, though. Right?"
Sayuri's chest tightened. "I am."
"Well, I've gotten good at reading both of them, you know?" Shoko exhaled slowly, blowing out a thin smoke trail before returning to Sayuri. "Suguru's not the type to confess his feelings outright… but he obviously cares about you."
Suguru made sure not to confess anything in front of Satoru, but he'd said enough to make her believe he felt something deeper than friendship. Sayuri swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. "When I'm with him, it's like…" Sayuri began, her voice barely above a whisper. "...everything feels clearer, even in chaos. He… understands parts of me I didn't even know existed. It's scary, but... comforting at the same time." She stopped, feeling as though she'd already revealed too much.
"That sounds special." She giggled, though her words were sincere. Shoko nudged the white-haired girl again. "When you see Suguru, you should tell him."
Sayuri scoffed, turning to face Shoko. She managed a small, tentative smile in return. "We'll see." While her uncertainty still lingered, it no longer felt quite as overwhelming.
Shoko's grin returned, mischievous as ever. "And if you need to talk… or want another cigarette to choke on, you know where to find me."
Kento Nanami lounged in his desk chair, lazily flipping through the pages of his book while his classmates chattered away. Every so often, he let out a deep sigh, casting a look of mild disbelief at Sayuri as she bombarded Haibara with questions that tested his patience. He chose not to engage, his silence speaking for itself.
Sayuri, perched precariously on the edge of her seat with one elbow resting on the desk and her head propped up by her hand, smiled politely as Haibara animatedly recounted the latest horror movie he'd seen. His face lit up with each exaggerated jump scare, hands gesturing wildly as he described a plot twist with far more enthusiasm than Sayuri could manage. While she nodded, her mind drifted elsewhere, her polite smile a mask for her wandering thoughts. Haibara's energy was infectious, but she found herself tuning out, her attention slipping farther away from the classroom.
It had been three days since she last saw Suguru. Her mind replayed their final conversation on the training grounds, his parting words lingering between them like an unspoken promise: You mean too much to me to risk your safety. Those words had gnawed at her ever since. She hadn't heard from him, only receiving vague updates from Satoru, whose casual texts did little to ease her unease. Satoru would never admit if they were struggling on the Star Plasma Vessel mission, which only deepened her worry.
Her gaze drifted to the window, the clear blue sky outside a stark contrast to the anxiety building in her chest. Just as she sank further into her thoughts, the door to the classroom swung open.
Yaga-sensei entered, his expression graver than usual, broad shoulders tense with urgency. The air shifted, and Sayuri straightened in her chair. Even Nanami, casually flicking through his book, set it down and turned his attention to their teacher.
"Listen up," Yaga's voice cut through the room with authority, commanding immediate focus. His gaze swept over the group of first-years, now sitting up a little straighter. "I have important news."
Sayuri's heartbeat quickened as she waited for the announcement, her hands tightening around the edges of her desk.
"You three are going to Okinawa," Yaga announced without preamble. "Riko Amanai's caretaker, Misato Kuroi, was kidnapped. She was found alive in Okinawa, but now we need eyes on the Naha Airport while Gojo and Geto are there."
A flicker of surprise lit Sayuri's pale features, but Haibara was the first to react. His eyes sparkled, leaning forward with childlike excitement. "Okinawa? That sounds awesome! I've never been!" He was already imagining warm beaches and blue waters, completely overlooking the seriousness of the mission.
Sayuri rolled her eyes and tossed a crumpled paper ball at his head. "We're not going on holiday, Yu."
Haibara blushed, rubbing the spot where the paper hit. Before he could retort, Nanami spoke up, calm but cautious. "What exactly are we supposed to do in Okinawa, sensei?"
Yaga's sharp gaze shifted to him. "You'll be monitoring the airport. There's a chance the kidnappers are still in the area. Stay vigilant, keep a low profile, and report suspicious activity."
Nanami nodded slowly, his brow furrowed in thought. "And if things escalate?"
"Your primary objective is surveillance," Yaga replied, his tone firm. "You're not to engage unless necessary." Yaga's expression remained grim as he crossed his arms. "It is Master Tengen's wish for Riko to enjoy her final days. Your mission is to support Gojo and Geto in ensuring that nothing happens to her before she's safely within Tengen's barriers."
Nanami leaned forward, skepticism clear in his eyes. "Isn't this a little much for first-years to handle?"
Yaga sighed, tiredness creeping into his gaze. "It is dangerous, yes. But all available sorcerers are already tied up with other missions. We don't have a choice. And Sayuri," he paused, locking eyes with her, "you've handled high-level missions before."
Her heart skipped a beat, and both anxiety and excitement tightened in her chest. Okinawa was a priority mission and another opportunity to prove to Suguru that she could hold her own. It was daunting, but the challenge stirred something inside her.
Haibara was practically vibrating with excitement. He nudged Nanami, his grin wide. "Isn't this awesome? Now I can show off in front of Geto!"
Nanami rolled his eyes. "Just focus on surviving," he muttered, though a faint spark of amusement flickered in his expression.
Haibara flashed a mischievous grin. "I'll survive if Sayuri packs a bikini…"
Heat rushed to her cheeks. "Yu!" she shouted. She grabbed Nanami's book this time and hurled it at Haibara's head.
The dark-haired boy yelped, narrowly dodging the book. It landed with a thud on the floor, its pages bent at strange angles. "It was just a joke!" he defended.
"Enough!" Yaga's voice boomed through the room, silencing the playful banter. "Your flight leaves in two hours. Go pack."
The room fell quiet as the weight of the mission settled over them again. Sayuri's thoughts raced as they filed out of the classroom, already mentally preparing for the task ahead. Nanami walked beside her, his presence steady and calming. He nudged her gently, offering a small, reassuring smile.
Sayuri had never been on a plane before, and it showed in the way she fumbled nervously with her seatbelt, tightening it over and over until it painfully pressed into her hips. Each tug was a desperate attempt to steady her nerves. And as the plane rumbled down the runway, her breath grew shallow, her chest tightening with apprehension. The instant the wheels lifted off the ground, she squeezed her eyes shut.
Instinctively, her hand shot out, gripping Haibara's forearm in a vice-like hold. Her knuckles turned white from the pressure, but Haibara didn't seem bothered. He glanced down at her hand with mild surprise before peering out the window, watching the plane climb higher into the sky. Sayuri clung to him, every muscle in her body rigid until the plane leveled off.
As the engines softened and the cabin grew quieter, her hand slipped from Haibara's arm. She shot him an apologetic look. "Sorry about that," Sayuri mumbled, embarrassment coloring her voice.
Haibara flashed a kind smile, always easygoing. "No worries, Sayuri," he said with a chuckle, rubbing his arm lightly. "My first flight was a disaster, too. My parents took me to London when I was five. They said I cried the whole way."
Sayuri managed a small laugh, grateful for his casual reassurance. She relaxed as the plane cruised smoothly, and when the flight attendant passed by with snacks, she took a can of soda and a small bag of pretzels. Sipping the cold, fizzy drink brought a sense of calm, and she found herself gazing out the window at the sea of clouds, their endless softness oddly soothing.
Nanami, seated beside her, appeared utterly unbothered. He was watching a movie, casually sipping water between scenes.
Soon enough, the hum of the plane and the tranquil view outside began to lull Sayuri into a drowsy state. Exhaustion from worry caught up with her, and before she knew it, she drifted off. And when she awoke, it was to the gentle rise and fall of Nanami's breathing beneath her cheek. Startled, she straightened up quickly, her face flushing as she realized she had been leaning on him. "Sorry," she whispered, mortified, tucking a strand of white hair behind her ear to hide her embarrassment.
Nanami glanced down at her with calm indifference, though a faint tinge of pink colored his cheeks. "It's fine," he said.
Still, the subtle awkwardness between them lingered in the air. Haibara, seated by the aisle, had noticed. He grinned, amusement dancing in his eyes. "We're landing in fifteen minutes," he said, returning to his manga.
Sayuri's blush deepened as she adjusted in her seat. The reality of the mission began to settle in as the announcement of their landing came over the intercom. Naha Airport was in sight, and her earlier nerves about flying seemed trivial compared to what they might encounter.
The only thing that settled her nerves was the call she received as the three of them stood at baggage claim. Sayuri fumbled in her purse as the phone vibrated, fingers brushing past random items until she finally pulled it out. She flipped it open, pressing it to her left ear as she stepped away from Haibara's side. Idle steps took her to the far wall, where the large airport windows framed an expansive view of the coastline. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting warm, golden hues over the water. It should have been breathtaking, but all of it dulled in comparison to the sound of the voice on the other line.
"You don't listen very well."
Her heart fluttered at the familiar, low timbre. Sayuri glanced over her shoulder, watching as Haibara stumbled, nearly losing his balance while pulling his bag from the carousel. Her lips twitched with amusement before her attention returned to the conversation. "It wasn't my choice," she defended, voice barely above a whisper. "This was Yaga's call."
Suguru sighed, the sound heavy with unspoken worry. Silence settled between them like a thick fog, stretching out until Sayuri could feel her pulse in her throat. She wanted to say something about that night, but the distance made her hesitate.
"You need to trust that I'll be okay," she finally said, gripping the phone tightly. "This is what we do, Suguru. We're jujutsu sorcerers."
The pause that followed was longer this time, and when he spoke again, his words came reluctantly. "That doesn't make it easier." His voice fell away momentarily before adding, "I have to go, Sayuri."
Her heart sank a little. After her recent conversation with Shoko, she anticipated his reluctance. Neither seemed capable of expressing their feelings; both preferred tiptoeing around the truth between them. "I'll see you back at school soon."
Suguru didn't respond immediately, but she could hear the faint sound of his breath as if he was lingering on the line just a moment longer. Sayuri could picture him on the other end, brow furrowed, lips pressed into that familiar, thoughtful line he wore when he wanted to speak but couldn't find the right words. "Don't forget what I taught you," he added softly.
The call ended, leaving Sayuri standing there, staring at a sunset that felt like a backdrop to a moment she wished had lasted longer.
The mission itself had been disappointingly dull—their time monitoring the Naha Airport passing with little more than a few uneventful shifts, tedious observations, and the lingering sense that something more significant should have happened. Sayuri remained on edge the entire time, expecting a confrontation that never came. Haibara's ever-cheerful demeanor kept things light while Nanami, as usual, dutifully carried out his tasks. Despite the outward calm, Sayuri couldn't shake the unease in her chest. She found no relief even when Yaga finally called for their return to Tokyo.
The flight back was quiet. Sayuri braved the window seat, watching her reflection merge with the cloud-dappled sky. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of the armrest as her thoughts drifted. The connection she shared with Suguru had become a constant undercurrent in her mind—a quiet hum she had grown used to. But something felt off. Something about that connection gnawed at her without explanation. It left her restless, and by the time the plane touched down in Tokyo, a stillness in the air pressed in on her like a vice.
Nothing could have prepared her for the devastation that awaited them at Tokyo Jujutsu High.
Beyond the torii gates, the school grounds had been reduced to ruins. Buildings lay in heaps of wood, shattered concrete, and broken glass—familiar pathways crushed beneath the weight of destruction. Sayuri's breath caught in her throat as she stared, open-mouthed. Her pulse roared in her ears, her mind trying to process the scene before them. And while the devastation was shocking, it was not what terrified her most.
Her connection with Suguru flared violently in her chest.
Her body moved before her mind could catch up. Panic surged through her veins, her legs carrying her faster than she had ever run.
"Sayuri, wait!" Nanami's voice cut through the chaos, but it barely registered.
Haibara had tried to lunge for her, to stop her, but she had sprinted ahead. "Sayuri!" His desperate, pleading voice joined in. But she couldn't stop. Every instinct screamed at her to run—to find Suguru.
Her foot caught on a broken slab of concrete, and she crashed to the ground, her palms scraping against jagged rocks. The pain barely registered as she pushed herself up, stumbling forward again. Breath hitched as she reached the courtyard's center, where the destruction was at its worst. And there, amid the chaos of broken stone and twisted metal, a figure lay motionless.
Satoru.
Sayuri's heart clenched. His familiar form lay crumpled on the ground, surrounded by rubble. White hair, stained with blood, stuck to his pale skin. His eyes, half-open and dull, stared blankly at the sky. Blood pooled beneath him, dark and unnerving, seeping into the cracks in the broken concrete. Savage punctures marked his body—his neck, his chest, his legs—all of it brutal and vicious. The jagged marks of a blade painted a horrifying picture of his final moments.
Sayuri's legs gave out, and she collapsed beside her cousin. Her hands hovered over his blood-soaked form, trembling. She couldn't comprehend what she was seeing—her breath coming in shallow gasps as she reached out. Tears blurred her vision, but she couldn't bring herself to wipe them away.
Something small landed on the hand that found the front of his uniform—another swarming her face. Fly heads. They buzzed and crawled across her skin, drawn to the scent of blood. They landed on Satoru, too, their grotesque bodies crawling over his lifeless form.
But Sayuri didn't move from him. She couldn't.
In the distance, she could faintly hear Nanami and Haibara calling out to her, their voices laced with panic. They seemed miles away. Her heart pounded as she fought to breathe through the thick cloud of dread closing in around her.
Where was Suguru?