"Hello, everyone."
A single stone sent a thousand ripples.
The hall erupted into noise.
Sorcerers turned toward the entrance, disbelief blooming on every face.
The great doors—redwood, massive, spanning an entire wall, meters tall, like a fortress gate—were pushed slowly open with a soft creak.
Through the widening gap, the first thing they saw was the dim sky beyond. The hall sat at the summit, offering a clear view all the way to the horizon, where storm clouds churned. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
Then came the smell—before they even saw the man. A wave of something foul rolled in. The thing behind him was enormous: a worm-like creature, meters thick, its bloated body trailing all the way to the far end of the courtyard, dripping blood one drop at a time.
At the creature's head was a twisted, agonized human face. And standing beside that grotesque, nauseating corpse—
A man. Calm-faced. Golden hair. Pale blue eyes like a still ocean—windless, waveless, utterly unperturbed.
Thud.
A heavy, muffled sound snapped everyone out of their shock.
Kira had released his grip on the corpse's neck. The massive skull struck the floor.
Cracks spiderwebbed across the boards. Blood splashed in concentric ripples.
"Kira... Nanami Kira?"
Gakuganji asked, hesitant.
"That's me. It's been a while, Principal Gakuganji."
Kira noticed his hand was covered in blood. He frowned, drew a handkerchief from his jacket lining, and wiped carefully. Once his hand was clean, he folded the handkerchief into a precise square and tucked it into his pocket.
He looked up and addressed the room.
"New Year's coming up, so I brought everyone some provisions. All prime cuts."
The enormous corpse lay at his feet, its eyes bulging, viscous yellow fluid oozing from the sockets. The stench of rot.
"May I come in? This is my trial, I believe."
"Execute him."
Jinichi Zenin waved his hand.
Instantly, streaks of dark light burst from among the sorcerers. Cursed Energy boiled. From front, back, left, and right, four sorcerers lunged at Kira like hawks diving for prey.
A rhythmic wave of energy rippled outward from Kira, holding all four at bay.
The notes carried a long, resonant tail, echoing across the threshold, scoring lines into the floorboards, hammering against the four sorcerers in relentless succession and driving them back.
Gakuganji set down his guitar and addressed Jinichi.
"If this is a trial, then we follow trial protocol. Kira is here. He should be seated."
His white brows drew together. "Or does Jinichi-kun consider the rules beneath him? Perhaps the Zenin Clan considers Jujutsu Headquarters beneath it?"
The leader of the conservative faction had spoken. The others naturally fell in line—and besides, executing a semi-special grade sorcerer before the trial had even begun did violate tradition and protocol.
"Come now, Jinichi. Let our guest sit down. Otherwise word gets out and we'll be an embarrassment to the Zenin name."
This came from Naoya Zenin, seated to Jinichi's right.
He sounded like he was speaking on behalf of propriety. In truth, he was fanning the flames.
The three of them had been vying for the position of clan head for a long time.
"Hmph." Jinichi clicked his tongue. The scar on his face looked more prominent than ever. He flicked his sleeve. "Stand down."
"Nanami Kira." Jinichi sat cross-legged on his cushion, his thick left hand resting on his right thigh, wearing a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "We sent people to invite you over. You refused. Now the feast has started, and you show up without a shred of shame."
"What kind of guest behaves like that?"
The subtext was clear—mocking Kira for hiding these past few days. Everyone understood: You ran because you had a guilty conscience.
"That's why I brought a gift to make amends."
Kira shrugged, his tone flat.
"They say Jinichi-kun is a man of great wisdom and valor, with a taste for human flesh—I prepared this especially for you."
"Nanami Kira!"
Jinichi's eyes went wide, veins bulging at his temples. The ugly, twisted scar on his face flushed crimson like a giant centipede crawling across his skin. He'd been pushed to the limit.
"You dare mock me?"
"Answer! Why have you been evading arrest?!"
"Who do you think you are? Just some mongrel from the sticks—a pathetic mongrel who can't even use jujutsu! What kind of sorcerer are you supposed to be?!"
The Zenin Clan prized orthodox jujutsu bloodlines above all else. Even Maki Zenin, who possessed Grade 2 combat ability, had been relentlessly suppressed simply for lacking Cursed Energy.
It was easy to imagine how deeply they despised a sorcerer who couldn't use jujutsu.
"You mongrel of tainted blood!"
"I need to clarify something: I wasn't mocking you—this really is human flesh."
Kira tilted his head. In those calm eyes, one could almost see the cosmos—as steady as the universe itself, and just as cold.
"The reason I didn't come with your people is simple."
His face held no expression at all, blank as a clean sheet of paper.
"No one bends my will. I only visit when I choose to. No one can force me to go to their house."
"Not even Satoru Gojo."
"He always comes to my place in person and drinks the coffee I brew for him."
He blinked, as if mildly surprised.
"And what, exactly, are you?"