Bright sunshine. Last night's rain must have scrubbed the sky clean—it shimmered and sparkled like a sheet of crystal.
Kira ate breakfast at the restaurant downstairs. Salmon sandwich, topped with a generous layer of fresh roe. One bite and the briny pop of the roe mingled with the buttery smoothness of the salmon, bursting across his tongue.
He savored every mouthful, then ordered a slice of sausage to go with his rich black coffee, sipping at a leisurely pace.
Vacation was bliss. Everything seemed to slow down, every small pleasure vivid and sharp.
Ring ring ring. His phone.
Who is it...
Kira pulled out his phone and raised it to his ear.
"My best friend!"
That narrowed it down.
Interrupting my vacation?
Interrupting his vacation = disrupted peace of mind = nail growth = murder.
Todo, you are committing a crime.
"What is it?"
"Takada-san's handshake event!"
...Kira's eyebrow twitched.
First thing in the morning? That sort of thing? Hardly appropriate... Obscene in broad daylight.
He judged silently, bringing the phone closer to his lips.
"Time. Location."
"Two this afternoon. Tokyo Building."
"What are you doing in Tokyo?"
"Huh?" Todo sounded genuinely baffled. "You don't know? The Goodwill Event between our schools is in a month."
"You're a teacher at that school—how do you not know this?"
"Ahem. Of course I know. I care deeply about my students."
So declared Nanami Kira, the man whose sole professional aspiration was clocking out on time.
"I was originally coming to give your students a friendly little 'greeting.'"
Kira knew exactly what that "greeting" meant.
An intimidation visit.
Todo's voice turned hesitant. A noticeable pause:
"But since they're your students, we've been thinking—maybe we should go easy this ti—"
"No need."
Kira cut him off, his tone growing even more righteous:
"As the saying goes, an uncut gem cannot shine. I'd appreciate it if you gave my students a proper workout. Especially Megumi Fushiguro—he's very talented."
Silence on the other end. Then Todo's voice, tinged with admiration:
"I had no idea you cared so much about your students. Don't worry, I won't let you down."
Fushiguro, that's what you get for spreading gossip about me...
Kira hung up and signaled the waiter for the check.
He stepped outside into blinding sunlight, squinting, and checked his watch. Almost time.
"Ohayo~"
A tall man clapped him on the shoulder, leaning into his field of vision with an easy grin.
"So, how's the teaching life?"
"Not bad."
"Ahh, but I bet my students have been dying without me. What can I say—I'm just the better teacher."
Gojo radiated confidence. Clearly, he hadn't yet realized where he ranked in his students' hearts.
"How was the coffee I gave you?"
"...Not bad."
Gojo had been about to say it was as undrinkable as ever, but the thought of Kira's withering lecture on his lack of taste made him double down.
"Could you taste the fragrance of nature? That lingering aroma that stays with you?"
In a manner of speaking, yes.
"...Yeah."
"I've got an advanced version at home. Want me to save you a bag?"
He was referring to the all-natural, pollution-free, homegrown fertilizer he'd fed Stray Cat that morning.
"...No thanks."
Gojo waved him off, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"What a shame." Kira said the words, but his gaze had already settled on Gojo, calm and measured:
"So. My proposal from last night?"
His expression was serene, but his lips curved just slightly upward:
"Teaching the higher-ups a lesson."
"I think it's brilliant."
Gojo's lips curled to match. He leaned in close, a conspiratorial grin spreading across his face:
"Let's plan this out properly, heh heh..."
Summer stretched long and warm. Sunlight fell evenly across every inch of the mountain road, and following it uphill revealed an elegant old estate.
Green leaves half-concealed the grounds, and the lake encircling the estate shimmered gold.
Kasumi Miwa stood guard at the gate, her expression taut, her eyes serious.
Stay focused. The principals' meeting between Kyoto and Tokyo was about to begin. She could not embarrass her school.
Welcome. Please come in. Watch the step. Please have a seat. May I offer you tea... She rehearsed the sequence. Right—sit first, then tea. Don't mix them up. You've got this, Miwa. You can do this!
The honor of the entire school rested on her shoulders. She would not let her classmates down!
She absolutely—oh my God, he's gorgeous.
Am... am I dreaming?
Kira and Gojo climbed the steps and entered the courtyard. Gojo strode in with his usual breezy nonchalance, while Kira walked with measured, deliberate steps.
Miwa, standing at the gate, began to tremble. Her expression went completely blank.
The honor of the entire school was instantly forgotten.
Gakuganji's face was grim as Kira and Gojo slid open the door and entered. He raised an eyebrow slightly.
Thanks to treatment, his arms—blown off in the earlier incident—had mostly healed, though his body remained weak. He sat on the tatami with visible effort, and the sight of these two walking in without a shred of decorum made him feel even sicker.
"Where's Yaga? Why isn't he here?"
He sighed.
"Because I gave him the wrong meeting time."
Gojo plopped down without ceremony, crossing his legs:
"Let's have a chat."
Gakuganji exhaled again, turning a weary gaze toward Kira:
"Gojo, I expect this from him. But you too?"
"You wound me."
Kira sat down as well—without crossing his legs, at least.
"By the way, thank you for your hospitality the other day."
"What do you mean?"
"Old man, drop the act. You've been trying to get rid of Yuji Itadori."
Gojo's contempt was unconcealed:
"For the sake of your petty ambitions and your precious status quo, you'll crush anything you consider unstable."
"Pathetic." He scoffed.
"Gojo-sensei, watch your attitude. I will report every word of this to your school," Miwa declared sternly.
"Miwa, I'm sorry—Gojo's just like that."
Kira offered apologetically.
Miwa frowned.
Internally, she screamed: He's real! He's actually real!
"Principal Gakuganji."
Kira's expression hardened. "Hasegawa Kaede. Do you remember that name?"
At the sound of it, Gakuganji sat bolt upright.
Of course he knew. Special Grade Curse User.
The architect of the Kyoto Cursed Plague. The one who stole the Special Grade Cursed Tool known as the Arrow. They'd searched for her with everything they had for weeks—and found nothing.
Kira continued, his face severe:
"Last night's Special Grade? She raised it."
Total bullshit!