Here to confirm whether Mahito's dead or alive...
Kira didn't believe a word out of her mouth. With Hoshino Ei's Concealment, she was impossible to detect unless she chose to reveal herself.
So the plan had hit a snag and the kid was getting anxious.
He'd said it before: Kira despised being controlled. Despised things going beyond his expectations. Despised surprises that fell outside his plans.
That compulsion was probably what had awakened Done Again in the first place.
Likewise, he despised goodwill forced upon him. Even if it was genuine kindness, he despised it all the same.
Hoshino Ei surely understood this side of him. And she'd done it anyway.
That meant she'd rather be hated than abandon whatever she was trying to accomplish.
What are you even after? Are you stupid?
Kira looked away from her, turning his gaze to the parasol trees lining the street. A breeze stirred the branches; every leaf trembled faintly in the midday sun.
"What do you want?"
"Oh, I heard something happened at the cinema, so I rushed over to help!"
Hoshino Ei rolled up her sleeves, revealing slender arms as smooth as jade, and puffed out her practically nonexistent chest with a look that screamed I'm super tough and I'm here to protect the people.
"Sensei, what actually happened in there?"
Here to fish for intel, then.
She widened those translucent amber eyes, curiosity radiating from every pore.
Kira had finally identified one of Hoshino Ei's rare talents: the girl was devastatingly good at playing innocent. Like a ragdoll cat that had just demolished the entire apartment and was now staring up at you with big, glistening eyes.
"Don't you have things to do?"
Kira wasn't buying it.
"Have you finished the assignments the academy gave you? You're supposed to be in class right now. Stop running around."
Wha—?! The guilty one was accusing her first?
Hoshino Ei gaped, and this time the disbelief was real:
"Sensei, it's your working hours too. What were you doing at a cinema?"
"Don't tell me you were slac—"
"Adult business. Children wouldn't understand."
Kira hadn't anticipated this line of questioning, but that didn't stop him from maintaining the dignified composure of a mature, dependable man. He kept his eyes on the parasol trees swaying in the breeze and said quietly:
"I'm leaving."
Hoshino Ei's real body wasn't here. There was no point engaging with a clone.
Her original plan, clearly, had been to corner him in a desperate situation and then use the Arrow to forcibly awaken a new ability.
Kira wasn't ready to lay all his cards on the table. Not yet.
The Zenin Estate.
The sun had sunk into the embrace of the mountains, leaving only a thin rim of dull gold etched along the ridgeline, flecks of fading light embedded in the rock. The sky was already dark. Cuckoos had stopped calling, small worms clamped in their beaks as they flew back to their nests. Down the mountain, villagers' cooking fires sent wisps of smoke curling upward, mingling with the twilight haze—an image of unhurried tranquility.
Jinichi Zenin finished his evening meal and sat for a while in the courtyard, meeting with several retainers. As usual, he paid his respects to the clan head, then retired to his quarters.
The succession battle was growing fiercer by the day. Ogi Zenin had left on some errand—that man had never been easy to manage.
Naoya Zenin was still at the estate, locked in a bitter rivalry with Jinichi himself.
The Zenin Clan had never been a peaceful family.
They upheld the most fundamental old ways, emphasizing the orthodoxy of jujutsu sorcerers and suppressing all outsiders.
Especially now. As one of the Big Three Families, the Zenin Clan's position was precarious. Because of Satoru Gojo, the Gojo Clan had become the uncontested dominant force. The Zenin could only maintain a semblance of balance by allying with the Kamo Clan.
The next clan head selection, therefore, would be stricter than any before it. More brutal than any before it.
Jinichi mulled this over as he crossed the courtyard, slipped off his wooden clogs, changed into indoor shoes, and stepped through the genkan.
He was a big man—broad-shouldered and thick-limbed—with a massive scar cutting across the corner of one eye. The persona he projected was equally blunt: brash, righteous, impulsive. Anyone meeting him for the first time would instinctively peg him as a straightforward, honest man.
Incapable of anything underhanded. And that perceived decency naturally elevated his standing. All Jinichi had to do was maintain the image.
Suppress non-orthodox sorcerers. That was the old way of the Zenin Clan.
He thought this, and his resolve hardened.
Nanami Kira had recently made a name for himself through the Kyoto incident. Semi-Special Grade. The higher-ups were speaking favorably of him, too. A dangerous signal.
Word was that Kira and Gojo were close—good friends, even. Gojo reportedly gifted him homemade coffee on the regular.
The Gojo Clan was already too powerful. If they gained the allegiance of a Semi-Special Grade sorcerer on top of that, the balance of the Big Three would shatter entirely.
The Zenin Clan had, in fact, attempted to recruit Kira multiple times. In Jinichi's view, this should have been an honor for Kira—he ought to have been weeping with gratitude.
After all, the man was from some backwater like Sendai, and he couldn't even use jujutsu at all. Compared to the Zenin Clan, the gap was like that between a master and a stray dog.
The master throws a bone, and the mutt of low breeding doesn't even wag its tail? Doesn't lick the master's shoes?
Jinichi had reviewed Kira's combat record. He'd defeated the Special Grade Curse User Hasegawa Kaede, but that hardly counted—anyone could see her techniques weren't suited for direct combat, and she hadn't been at full strength. Beat her? Jinichi was confident he could have done the same.
If Kira truly possessed Special Grade-level power, the Zenin Clan would naturally think twice about antagonizing him.
But he didn't. And he'd turned them down.
Nothing overt, of course. But tripping him up behind the scenes? Perfectly acceptable.
Reduce his mission assignments. Leave him idle. Deny him the chance to accumulate merit.
Grind him down. That ought to give him headaches.
Lowborn mongrel from the sticks.
Jinichi thought this as he passed the guards at his door—new faces, must have been recent transfers—and glanced at them absently.
He slid the wooden door open and stepped into his room.
It was dark inside. No lights on. Jinichi reached for the switch.
BOOM—
A soundless explosion rippled outward. Jinichi's eyes flew wide with disbelief and horror as his body disintegrated, piece by piece, into ash.
Outside the door, Kira lowered his hood and pressed his fingertips against the corner of his eye. He peeled away a thin layer—a lifelike skin mask—and pulled it free.
Beside him, Killer Queen lowered its own hood and mimicked the gesture.
He glanced into the room. Confirmed Jinichi was thoroughly dead. Checked his watch:
7:40 PM.
Clock out by eight, he muttered to himself.
He walked toward Jinichi's quarters and out through the genkan. Outside, full darkness had fallen.
His entire form melted into the night.
The next day, multiple senior members of the Zenin Clan were reported missing, and the clan's archive had been raided.