"Hey, Hikki?"
Yui Yuigahama looked at Hachiman Hikigaya, who was reaching out toward her with a somewhat shaken expression. Concern flickered across her face. "Are you okay?"
"Huh?" Hachiman blinked, then quickly regained his composure, awkwardly lowering his hand. "I was just thinking... um, maybe it's time to head home? No one's come by with a request anyway."
Yui gave him a skeptical look, her voice tinged with a hint of grievance. "Really? Hikki, you're treating me like an idiot, aren't you?"
If that's all it was, then why did you look so panicked just now?
"...It's the truth."
Under Yui's doubtful yet slightly worried gaze, Hachiman started to sweat profusely. His hands hung by his sides, nervously fidgeting with the fabric of his pants. His toes curled inside his shoes, as if they were trying to dig out a full three-bedroom apartment.
Seeing that he still wouldn't admit what was really going on, Yui pouted and furrowed her brows. "Hmph, fine! Keep your secrets. I won't bother with you anymore!"
With that, she grabbed her bag and stormed out of the Service Club room ahead of him. Meanwhile, Hachiman just stood there at the doorway, frozen like a clueless bird, watching the pink-haired bun-headed girl leave.
After taking a few steps, Yui couldn't resist turning back. Puffing out her cheeks, she called out to him, "Are you coming or what?!"
"Oh, right, I'm on it!"
Snapping out of his daze, Hachiman Hikigaya grabbed his bag and followed Yui Yuigahama out of the Service Club room. But as soon as he stepped through the door, a set of keys came flying toward him. Instinctively, he caught them, his face filled with confusion.
"Take the activity room's keys back to Hiratsuka-sensei's office for me. I'm heading out first!" Yui called back, not even looking over her shoulder as she left.
It seemed like she was genuinely upset this time.
Hachiman scratched his cheek awkwardly. Only after she disappeared down the staircase did he turn and make his way toward the faculty building.
It was only then that it hit him—ordinary people couldn't see curses.
After exorcising the fly-headed curse, Yukino Yukinoshita returned to the room where the victim had been found.
She stood silently, her expression complicated as she gazed at the bloodied corpse on the floor. Her mind was a whirl of emotions.
"What should we do now?" she asked softly.
"What do you mean, 'what should we do'?" Sukuna replied dismissively, barely looking up as he reviewed the newly earned points.
Current Points: 1450
They had earned 550 points from this curse. The last one—a third-grade centipede curse—had been worth 800 points, which made sense since it had been stronger. This one, a fly crossed with a bee, was comparatively weaker.
Though, come to think of it, why was Yukinoshita always running into insect-based curses?
"I mean the victim!" Yukino snapped, irritation creeping into her voice at Sukuna's casual attitude.
"Just burn it," Sukuna suggested nonchalantly.
"Absolutely not!" Yukino immediately rejected the idea.
Her eyes were drawn to something amidst the chaos in the living room. She stepped forward, picked up a shattered glass photo frame, and inspected it carefully.
Although the frame was broken, the photo inside was intact.
The picture was old and yellowed, showing a family: kind-looking parents, a shy young man standing behind his father, and a little girl of about seven or eight tugging at the young man's sleeve with her chubby hands, pouting at him instead of looking at the camera.
The victim appeared to be the young man in the photo.
The background showed golden fields, white-walled and brown-roofed houses, distant mountains, and a clear blue sky—a countryside scene.
It was easy to piece together the story: the young man had left his hometown to make a living in the city, likely saving up to buy this newly built apartment. But before he could embrace the bright future ahead, he fell victim to a curse.
"He had a family…" Yukino's voice was tinged with sorrow as she stared at the photo. "If we burn him, we erase not just his body but the traces of his hard-fought life."
"Doesn't matter to me," Sukuna replied lazily. "So, what's your plan? Report it? How do you plan to explain it as the first person on the scene? You might end up exposing yourself to your family."
"You'd better think carefully."
Yukino faltered, lost in thought. For a long moment, she was silent. Sukuna waited, watching quietly as she wrestled with her decision.
Finally, after what felt like ten minutes, Yukino gazed down at the yellowed photo in her hands and murmured, "At the very least, his family deserves to know."
"Looks like you've made up your mind," Sukuna remarked.
Once her decision was made, everything else fell into place.
Sukuna dispelled the domain, and Yukino, after confirming the apartment's location, dialed the police.
She introduced herself, explained the situation calmly, and provided all the grim details about the crime scene. Her composed tone startled the operator—this was clearly a major case, serious enough to demand immediate attention. And when they realized the caller was the daughter of a Chiba prefectural councilor, the urgency heightened.
Before long, the sound of police sirens echoed below the apartment building.
Yukino stood quietly outside the room, waiting.
Soon, several officers arrived on the scene. The lead officer, a middle-aged man with a police inspector badge, greeted Yukino before leading his team into the apartment.
Barely ten seconds later, they staggered out, their faces pale. One younger officer clutched the wall as he began vomiting, the contents of his lunch spilling onto the ground.
Once the initial shock passed, the inspector approached Yukino with a grave expression. "Thank you for your report, Miss Yukinoshita. You should head home and rest—you've seen something no one should ever have to see."
Yukino shook her head, her face calm. "I'm fine."
"...Well, tomorrow, once we have some preliminary results, we'll need you to come to the station for a statement." The officer felt a pang of embarrassment at how composed Yukino was compared to himself.
Was his mental resilience worse than a high school girl's?
Yukino nodded lightly. "Of course."
With that, she left the scene.
At home, things seemed normal. Her sister, Haruno, didn't appear to notice anything amiss, though she did sense that Yukino seemed slightly more subdued than usual.
The next day, Yukino took a leave of absence from school and headed to the police station alone.
However, instead of the inspector she'd met the previous day, she was greeted by a sharply dressed man in a suit.
"Hello, Miss Yukinoshita. I'm a supervisor from Jujutsu High."
"Who are you?"
Yukinoshita Yukino's gaze swept over the man in front of her, her tone betraying a trace of suspicion.
The man stood there in a meticulously pressed suit, his tie perfectly knotted, and his leather shoes polished to a reflective gleam—an image of corporate precision. Yet his sunken cheeks and dark circles under his glasses painted him as a classic overworked salaryman.
"Apologies for the sudden intrusion. My name is Ieiri Kiyotaka. I'm an assistant supervisor from the Tokyo Jujutsu High School. My primary role is to provide support and handle post-incident cleanup operations," he introduced himself with a respectful bow.
"Tokyo Jujutsu High School…?" Yukino echoed, narrowing her eyes. The name sounded more like an elaborate fabrication than a legitimate institution. Still, her concern lay more with his purpose for being here.
"To the general public, we present ourselves as a religious school. In reality, the staff and students are all affiliated with the Jujutsu Society," Ieiri explained calmly, adjusting his glasses. "And you, Miss Yukinoshita, are no exception."
Is he someone you know? Yukino asked silently.
Of course not. He's with the Jujutsu Sorcerers. Likely here because of that incident you reported to the police, Sukuna's voice echoed dryly. Just hear him out and figure out what he wants.
Understood.
"So, why are you here?" Yukino asked bluntly.
"There are two primary reasons," Ieiri began, his voice measured. "First, we need to manage the aftermath of the curse attack—this includes altering death records, notifying the families of the deceased, and providing compensation. The Jujutsu Society maintains strict secrecy, and these measures are part of that effort to avoid alarming the public."
"And the second reason?"
"The second involves you, Miss Yukinoshita, and others like you," Ieiri said, his tone turning more serious. "Recently, there has been a spike in awakened sorcerers across Japan. Ordinary people are suddenly discovering their innate ability to manipulate cursed energy. We're still investigating the cause of this phenomenon."
"Most remain unaware of their abilities, but some have realized their powers and are using them for selfish purposes. We've already detained several such rogue sorcerers."
"But people like you, who not only awaken their abilities but also choose to exorcise curses, are exactly the kind of individuals we hope to recruit."
After his explanation, Ieiri bowed slightly and extended his hand. "Miss Yukinoshita, we would like you to enroll at Tokyo Jujutsu High and train to become a full-fledged Jujutsu Sorcerer."
Faced with his earnest invitation, Yukino hesitated, her thoughts drifting toward Sukuna. As she was about to consult him, two newcomers entered the small room.
"Why did I have to come?"
"Come on, you've got to meet our potential new student! Besides, Megumi, you need to stop being so gloomy. A little sunshine will do you good!"
The voice was playful, charismatic, and distinctly lighthearted. The speaker—a tall man with silvery-white hair, a black blindfold covering his eyes—strolled into the room. Following him was a spiky-haired boy who looked perpetually annoyed.
"Stop making it sound like I'm moldy."
"Haha, at least you're self-aware!"
The white-haired man laughed heartily, slapping the boy on the back. The latter's expression darkened further in response.
"Um…" Ieiri stammered, his demeanor visibly shrinking in the presence of the white-haired man. "Gojo-sensei, Miss Yukinoshita hasn't agreed to join yet."
"What?" Gojo Satoru exclaimed, pulling an exaggerated expression of disbelief. "Ieiri, what are you doing?!"
"My apologies…"
A long sigh escaped Yukino's lips, cutting through their banter. The room fell silent as everyone turned to her. What they saw made their bodies tense instinctively.
Black, intricate markings began spreading across her delicate face. Slowly, a second pair of eyes opened, and an unmistakable, ominous aura filled the air.
"Seriously, could you people stop bickering in front of my student?" Sukuna's deep, disdainful voice rang out.
"Special Grade…" Megumi Fushiguro muttered under his breath, his body instinctively shifting into a defensive stance as he eyed the sudden transformation.
"This cursed energy… I've felt something like it before," Gojo mused, his usual carefree demeanor giving way to a more contemplative expression.
While Fushiguro bristled with tension, Gojo remained calm, though his mind raced behind his blindfold.
An enormous amount of cursed energy, and its nature shifted so suddenly. Is this a technique to suppress cursed energy?
As he observed the markings on Yukino's face and the sinister, otherworldly presence emanating from her, recognition flashed across Gojo's face. "Sukuna. That's you, isn't it?"
"I am Sukuna, yes," the voice replied nonchalantly. "But call me whatever you wish. It hardly matters."
Though the voice belonged to Yukino, the arrogance dripping from every word was unmistakable.
"Sukuna with a new alias, huh? Fine, I'll take that as confirmation," Gojo said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "But I'm curious—how did you go from being a cursed object to this? Is this girl your vessel? Has she been completely possessed? Poor thing."
"Cursed object? I was never one to begin with," Sukuna answered plainly, his disdain evident. He had no interest in deception or playing the role of the "real" Sukuna.
Gojo and Megumi both frowned, puzzled. If Sukuna was never a cursed object, then what about the six Special Grade fingers sealed at Jujutsu High? Could there really be two versions of Sukuna?
Ridiculous.
Judging by the overwhelming cursed energy radiating from Yukino—no, Sukuna—it was clear he wasn't just a fragment. He likely embodied all but the six fingers currently in the school's possession.
"You said this girl is your student?" Gojo asked, intrigued. "Since when does Sukuna have the patience to mentor anyone?"
"None of your business," Sukuna snapped.
Tension rippled through the room as Sukuna's sharp glare met Gojo's calm smirk. Both exuded an overwhelming sense of superiority, their egos clashing like thunderclouds.
"If you're here to clean up, then do it. As for joining your school, that's not happening." Sukuna waved dismissively, turning to leave.
"Wait," Gojo's lazy voice interrupted.
"Oh? Are you trying to stop me?" Sukuna turned slightly, a sinister grin curling his lips.
"Of course. How could we let someone as dangerous as Sukuna wander freely?"
"What, you wanna spar with me?"
"Sounds fun. I've always wanted to test the King of Curses' strength."
The air grew heavy with anticipation as Gojo's relaxed stance took on a subtle edge, and Sukuna's aura flared in response.
A fight? Here? Now? Megumi and Ieiri exchanged nervous glances, bracing for the inevitable chaos.