The city was alive, pulsing like a living beast under the golden afternoon sun. The streets hummed with overlapping conversations, the occasional honk of impatient drivers, and the rhythmic clicking of footsteps against the pavement. A medley of scents drifted through the warm air—rich espresso from a corner café, the buttery sweetness of freshly baked pastries, and the faint tang of asphalt heating under the sunlight.
Amidst the ebb and flow of urban chaos, four teenagers moved together, weaving seamlessly into the crowd.
Himari led the charge, her eyes practically sparkling, like a kid let loose in a candy store. Every glass display seemed to whisper her name, and every boutique promising cute accessories or high-end fashion became an inevitable stop.
Behind her, Tetsuya trudged along, wearing the unmistakable expression of a man dragged into something he never signed up for. "That's three clothing stores already," he groaned, shoulders slumped in resignation.
"And we have three more to go," Himari chimed, smiling as if his suffering was nothing more than background noise.
Ryou, arms crossed, lazily scanned the passersby. He had seen this coming the moment they stepped out. "Should've just stayed behind," he muttered.
And then there was Reika, trailing behind them, a silent shadow that neither objected nor seemed particularly interested in their impromptu excursion. Her presence was more of an afterthought—unobtrusive, unnoticed, yet inescapable.
───⭑⭒⚊奈落の顎⚊⭒⭑───
Hours earlier, in the academy's wide-open training grounds, Yuuji stood before them, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze swept over his students, weighing their progress after hours of practice. Then, without warning, he dropped a bombshell.
"You're getting a day off," he announced, voice calm but firm.
For a moment, silence—
"ARE YOU SERIOUS!?" Himari practically exploded, her excitement an uncontrollable force.
Tetsuya blinked, as if his brain refused to process the words. "Wait. Like… no training?"
"Yep. Take the day, do whatever you want," Yuuji confirmed. Then, with a sly grin, he added, "But don't get too comfortable. The day after tomorrow, I'm pushing your training up a notch."
Ryou exhaled sharply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "So it's not generosity. It's a trap."
"Call it whatever you want." Yuuji shrugged. "Just make sure you actually rest. Go to the city, do something normal for once—just don't cause any trouble."
That was all Himari needed to hear. While the others were still digesting the unexpected freedom, her mind was already racing with plans.
"We're going downtown!"
───⭑⭒⚊奈落の顎⚊⭒⭑───
"Regretting your life choices?" he muttered.
"The answer is yes," Tetsuya deadpanned.
Himari, already lost in a whirlwind of fabric, ignored them entirely. She held up a sleek black jacket, scrutinizing it under the bright store lights. "You guys should try something on! Tetsuya, you'd look good in something more mature—maybe a nice button-up? And Ryou, dark colors suit you."
"You're really enjoying this, huh?"
"Obviously!" Himari placed a hand on her hip, radiating smug satisfaction. "When else do we get a chance to just—be normal? If you refuse to try on clothes, at least humor me and come to a café after this."
And so, after what felt like an eternity—at least to Ryou and Tetsuya, they finally left the store. Himari emerged victorious, albeit without spending a single yen—her triumph was measured in the suffering of her companions.
The streets were still alive with movement, the steady murmur of voices and laughter blending into the city's natural symphony. Somewhere in the distance, a street performer played a melancholic tune on his guitar.
The café they found was tucked away from the main road, its interior bathed in the soft glow of warm-toned pendant lights. The scent of espresso and vanilla filled the air, weaving seamlessly with the distant clatter of cups and quiet chatter. Students hunched over textbooks, workers scrolled through their phones, and in the farthest booth, a couple whispered conspiracies over half-finished lattes.
The four of them claimed a table by the window, where sunlight spilled across the wooden surface, creating abstract patterns between the shadows of their arms. A digital menu hovered over the table, waiting for their choices.
Tetsuya scanned it eagerly. "Alright, what's everyone having?"
Himari leaned back, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Matcha latte and a strawberry shortcake. It needs to be sweet but not overpowering, soft enough to melt in my mouth, and—of course—aesthetic enough for a picture."
"Are you ordering food or describing the meaning of life?" Ryou drawled.
"Black coffee. No sugar," Ryou added, unfazed by Himari's exaggerated expression of disgust.
"You're an old man trapped in a teenager's body," she muttered, typing in the order.
Tetsuya, still scrolling, eventually settled on his choice with a satisfied nod. "Hot chocolate and a croissant."
"Called it," Ryou said, unimpressed.
Reika remained silent, her crimson gaze gliding over the menu without a hint of preference.
"I'll order for you," Tetsuya decided without hesitation, selecting earl grey tea and a macaron on her behalf. If she minded, she didn't show it—she simply met his gaze for a brief second before giving a slight nod.
Once their orders arrived, the conversation naturally drifted.
"We don't get to do this often," Himari mused, cutting into her cake with deliberate precision. "Usually, we're too busy dealing with—"
"Monsters," Ryou finished.
"Exactly."
Tetsuya paused mid-bite, thoughtful. "Hey… have you guys ever wondered what the old Jujutsu Academy was like? I mean, we're new, but there had to be legends before us, right?"
Himari's eyes lit up, a wicked little smirk playing on her lips. "Oh, plenty. Haven't you heard the stories?"
Tetsuya shook his head. "Just bits and pieces."
Himari leaned forward, fingers tapping rhythmically against the table. "Alright. Listen closely. There's one story that stands above the rest. One that shook the entire world of Jujutsu to its core."
The atmosphere shifted. Even with the background noise of the café, their table felt… separate. Time seemed to slow, the air thickening with anticipation.
"The battle between the King of Curses and the boy who was never meant to live."
Yuuji-sensei and Sukuna.
Ryou exhaled the names quietly, as if saying them too loudly might summon ghosts.
"Yup." Himari stirred her drink, her voice dropping just slightly. "It wasn't just a fight between a sorcerer and a curse. It was a war between two predators who refused to die."
"Sukuna," she continued, "the King of Curses who remained undefeated for centuries… and Yuuji, the boy who had no right to stand against him, yet refused to fall."
Tetsuya swallowed hard. "So… how did it end?"
Ryou shot him a look. "Are you serious? If Sukuna had won, we wouldn't be here right now."
"Oh. Right."
"But no one knows the full details," Himari admitted. "The Jujutsu Academy keeps a lot of things under wraps."
She turned to Reika then, as if drawn to the quiet presence beside her. "You know anything, Reika?"
Those dark red eyes lifted, unreadable. For a moment, something flickered beneath their depths—something old, something unfathomable.
Reika spoke softly.
"Places where great battles were fought… they remember."
The words lingered, settling into the silence like dust on forgotten ruins.
And then, before anyone could react, a voice from the next table drifted into their awareness.
"—Did you hear about that village?"
Himari's head snapped up. "Huh?"
"Yeah. Burned to the ground. Not a single survivor." Tetsuya and Ryou exchanged glances. "The weird part? The fire didn't spread to the surrounding forest."
"—Some people say it wasn't a normal fire."
"A curse?"
"Maybe."
Their conversation continued, but for the four Jujutsu students, the air had already shifted. Something dark had stirred.