The baseball Yoru sent flying eventually vanished into the horizon, leaving not even a shadow behind.
There was no doubt about it.
This Sister-School Goodwill Event, which should have been thick with tension, ended in a total victory for the Tokyo School.
It wasn't just the first day's group battle.
Even the second day's baseball game had turned into a one-sided blowout thanks to Yoru's absurd home run.
The Kyoto School lost miserably.
Strangely, however, they didn't show as much resentment as usual this time.
Perhaps it was because...
When facing a mountain that simply cannot be scaled, a profound sense of helplessness tends to outweigh any feelings of jealousy or bitterness.
The sun began to set.
Golden rays spilled across the Jujutsu High athletic field, painting everything in a warm, orange-red glow.
The Kyoto students were packing their bags, preparing for the journey home.
"Um..."
Just as Yoru was about to turn and leave, a timid voice called out from behind him.
Yoru stopped and looked back.
There stood Kasumi Miwa, her face flushed as she tightly clutched her sword.
Her bangs drifted slightly in the evening breeze. Her eyes darted away, yet they held a strange hint of anticipation.
"What is it?"
Yoru asked gently.
His voice was soft, like a spring breeze that naturally set one at ease.
Though he was a Shura on the battlefield who struck terror into the hearts of Cursed Spirits...
...in his daily life, the soul known as Yoriichi Tsugikuni always imbued him with an almost divine gentleness.
"Um... could I... could I please get your autograph!"
Miwa bowed deeply, offering her sword to Yoru with both hands.
Her face, still retaining a bit of baby fat, was now as red as a ripe apple.
"I know this is sudden! But... but I really admire you!"
"That swordsmanship... that presence..."
"It's like you're a master swordsman straight out of a manga!"
Miwa grew more excited as she spoke, her voice rising until she drew looks from everyone around them.
Yoru was taken aback for a moment.
An autograph?
Looking at the clumsy yet incredibly sincere girl before him, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
In a world so full of curses and death...
...such purity was truly rare.
"I can do that."
Yoru took the sword from Miwa's hands.
It was a decent New Shadow Style standard-issue tachi.
He paused to think. Instead of using a pen, he traced his finger lightly across the scabbard.
His fingertip didn't even touch the wood, but a warm energy surged through it.
Sun Breathing.
He sealed a faint trace of Sun Breathing's power within the characters.
While it couldn't be used to slay enemies, it could at least dispel cold and fear for her in a moment of crisis.
"Here."
Yoru handed the sword back to Miwa.
Two bold, powerful characters were carved into the scabbard: Yoru.
The strokes shimmered with a faint golden-red light, as if they were still warm to the touch.
"Th—Thank you!"
Miwa clutched the sword as if it were a priceless treasure, nearly jumping for joy.
"What an idiot."
Just then, a cold voice spoke up.
Mai Zenin walked over with her arms crossed, looking thoroughly annoyed.
She glanced at the grinning Miwa, sighed in exasperation, and then turned her gaze toward Yoru.
Her expression was complicated.
There was resentment and jealousy, but more than that, there was a sense of recognition she refused to admit even to herself.
As the failure of the Zenin family, she knew better than anyone what it meant to lack cursed energy in this world.
It was the reason for being abandoned by one's family.
It was proof that one was considered trash.
Yet the boy before her had used his blade to deliver a resounding slap to the face of everyone who looked down on those without cursed energy.
Herself included.
"Hey."
Mai looked away, intentionally avoiding Yoru's eyes.
"We lost this time, but next time... I definitely won't let it be such a pathetic defeat."
Without waiting for Yoru to respond, she grabbed the starstruck Miwa and turned to leave.
Only her slightly reddened ears betrayed the inner turmoil she felt.
'Mai...'
Yoru watched the two depart, lost in thought.
In this twisted jujutsu world, everyone struggled to survive in their own way.
Even someone as seemingly abrasive as Mai hid a pain that went unnoticed by most.
"Yoru!"
Yuji Itadori's loud voice shattered the silence.
"Hurry up! Gojo-sensei said he's taking us out for conveyor belt sushi! If we're late, there won't be any seats left!"
"Coming."
Yoru retracted his gaze and turned toward his friends.
The setting sun stretched his shadow long across the ground.
The boy's back was as straight as a pine, as if no matter what storm lay ahead, it could never bend his resolve.
In this moment...
Everything was peaceful.
There were no roars from Special Grade Cursed Spirits, no underhanded schemes—only the carefree laughter of the youths echoing through the empty campus.
Yet peaceful days were always heartbreakingly brief.
Just as everyone was excitedly discussing how many plates of tuna they were going to eat...
Megumi Fushiguro, who was walking at the front, suddenly stopped. His phone was ringing.
It was an unknown number.
Megumi frowned and answered the call.
"Hello, is this Megumi Fushiguro?"
An anxious voice came from the other end.
"I'm... Tsumiki's primary doctor."
Tsumiki.
Those letters hit like a bolt from the blue, causing Megumi's pupils to constrict instantly.
The surrounding air seemed to freeze in that instant.
The previously lighthearted atmosphere vanished without a trace.
Yoru keenly sensed the shift in Megumi's aura—a despair as cold as dead ashes.
"What is it, Fushiguro?"
Yuji also noticed something was wrong and let his smile fade.
Megumi didn't speak.
He gripped his phone so hard his knuckles turned white.
The voice on the other end continued. Though faint, everyone present was a jujutsu sorcerer with hearing far beyond that of ordinary people.
"Tsumiki's condition has suddenly taken a turn for the worse..."
"Also, we found a strange photograph among her belongings."
"The background of the photo is a bridge in Saitama Prefecture..."
"It's called... Yasohachi Bridge."
Yasohachi Bridge.
The name acted like a cursed switch, instantly awakening a long-dormant, terrifying memory.
Megumi slowly lowered his phone.
His face was ghastly pale, and a panic he had never shown before flickered in his eyes.
"Sorry."
His voice was hoarse, carrying a slight tremor.
"The sushi... I don't think I can make it."
Yoru watched him quietly.
The cursed energy within Megumi was fluctuating wildly—a chaotic swirl of fear, anger, and profound self-reproach.
'His sister.'
She was Megumi's only weakness in this world, the last piece of pure land he desperately wanted to protect.
And now.
That pure land seemed to be getting swallowed, bit by bit, by an invisible darkness.
"It's okay."
Yoru stepped forward and gently patted Megumi's shoulder.
The warmth from Yoru's palm helped still Megumi's trembling body slightly.
"Let's go check it out first."
Yoru's voice remained calm, yet it carried a reassuring strength.
"No matter what happens."
"We're here with you."