Summer pressed on. Kira glanced at his watch.
Half past two.
He still hadn't eaten lunch.
Irritation. Irritation. Irritation.
Everything that fell outside his plans made him irritable. He hadn't felt this agitated in a long time.
Put yourself in the enemy's shoes. Think the way she thinks...
Hoshino Ei's objective was unclear. She hadn't stolen the Arrow hidden upstairs. If that were truly her goal, she would have taken it before coming to see him—not waltzed into the school and told him to his face.
That would be like a thief calling the homeowner ahead of time: "I'm robbing your place tonight—be a dear and leave the door unlocked."
Thinking back on the last thing she'd said, it was more like a lure. Baiting him into going home. Baiting him into bringing the Arrow.
Why would she do that?
Kira paced, gnawing at his fingernails, the clicking sharp and rhythmic as his mind churned:
Her objective, her objective...
Think about what she actually did—she planted Cursed Spirits along this street.
Besides stalling me, what else do they accomplish...
That's it. Her reason for visiting the school was to provoke me into breaking through the barrier and rushing home to check on the Arrow. Finding it safe, I'd never let it go at that—I'd suspect she was working with the Cursed Spirit that attacked the cinema. I'd head back to the cinema to investigate.
And I'd take this shortcut... everything she did was to lure me onto this street?
Kira pressed his lips together. He wasn't the type to sweat easily, but maybe the sun was too brutal today—his back felt sticky.
He glanced behind him instinctively. The street behind was empty. Every building was decrepit: some were tiled-roof houses plastered with condemned notices, others had courtyards choked with dust, dead leaves, and branches. The paint on their lacquered gates had peeled away in great patches, and the locks were thick with cobwebs.
A quiet, peaceful street.
Kira frowned. Something about this place triggered a deep, instinctive sense of unease. Nanami Kira was a man born under a lucky star—fortune had favored him his entire life. It was precisely this special seventh sense that had saved him time and again.
Whatever Hoshino Ei was planning, all he could do now was press forward.
Those Cursed Spirits were only meant to stall for time.
That was what he told himself. He recalled Sheer Heart Attack, looked up at the enormous blazing steamer overhead, and sighed.
Whatever happened, the first priority was getting out of here.
Two days ago.
"We're going to investigate this guy? Mr. Ijichi?"
Yuji Itadori studied the photograph, curious.
"Yes."
Kiyotaka Ijichi nodded. The middle-aged man wore his perpetual look of weary distress—dark circles and drooping brows advertising his exhaustion.
"Hihi! What about Nanamin?"
"Nanami needs to recuse himself for now—he can't be deployed."
The husky, alluring voice came from the front seat. The woman sitting there was tall and striking—her fitted dress tracing every curve, long legs crossed, the hem draping just above an ankle as pale and smooth as carved jade. Full thighs, slender calves; every movement exuded an effortless femininity.
Her long hair fell past her shoulders, veiling half her face and adding an air of mystery. The one visible eye narrowed to a languid slit as she spoke:
"So I'm filling in for him. Fair warning—my overtime rate is double."
"This is Ms. Mei Mei. A Grade 1 jujutsu sorcerer."
Ijichi introduced her with an obliging smile.
"Huh? Kira-sensei can't come?"
That was Hoshino Ei, sitting in the back seat against the window. Fine strands of hair fell loosely around her face, and her clover earrings caught the summer light.
"What a shame. I still had so many questions for him."
"In any case, he's the only survivor besides Kira."
"And our investigation shows he and the victims were classmates."
Ijichi picked up the thread:
"We have reason to question this young man's identity. Kira has confirmed the boy isn't connected to the incident."
"But given Kira's current situation, his testimony doesn't carry much weight."
Mei Mei summarized:
"So here's the deal. Itadori, Hoshino, Fushiguro—you three investigate Junpei's background. I'll track down the Cursed Spirit's location."
"Understood."
"Understood."
One month ago.
Steam rose from the hot spring, thick vapor drifting between smooth white stones, hazy and ethereal as a dreamscape.
Suguru Geto paused, then continued:
"Besides, our goal is the annihilation of all ordinary humans. That naturally conflicts with his ideals. If human society is destroyed, how can he possibly have his peaceful life?"
"That's the real reason he chose to become a jujutsu sorcerer."
"He's a monster who'll kill anything to preserve his peace."
"I have a different take."
A voice clear and cool as snow.
It sent a sudden chill through the steaming spring—like a summer evening after sunset, when the worst of the heat has broken but hasn't quite let go, when the sky fills with stars and everything is growing quietly.
Your whole body relaxes. In the heat of a summer night, you can almost feel cool.
That was the first impression Hoshino Ei left on people.
"Who the hell are you? Show yourself!"
Magma erupted from the crown of Jogo's head. Steam on either side coiled into billowing clouds as terrifying Cursed Energy radiated from his body.
"Easy, easy."
Geto smiled lazily, still slouched in the pool, and drawled:
"This is our guest of honor for today. Special Grade Curse User—Hasegawa Kaede."
"I've never met this person. My teacher already killed her with his own hands."
A girl emerged from deep within the mist. She swept a glance across the bath, covered her eyes with exaggerated disgust:
"Ugh, could you people please put some clothes on?"
"I feel like my eyes have been violated. Hideous."
"What did you just say?"
The volcano on Jogo's head erupted harder. He glared with his single eye:
"Are you looking for a fight?"
"Ah, this is why men are so tedious."
Hoshino Ei crouched lightly, chin resting on her palm:
"This body is just an avatar. My real self isn't even here. Do whatever you want to it."
"Jogo, let the lady speak."
Mahito imitated Geto's posture, lounging in the pool with his stitch-covered feet propped up.
Hoshino Ei fixed Mahito with a look of absolute contempt and revulsion—the kind of look reserved for garbage:
"How repulsive. Kira-kun despises anything that's been stitched together, anything already used—and you are repulsive beyond measure."
"Hey, hey, hey—"
"Mahito." Geto cut in with a smile, shaking his head. "Let's stay on topic. You said you had a different take."
"I do."
Hoshino Ei gazed at her own reflection in the water. Gentle ripples distorted the image, her expression growing distant:
"If Kira-kun became a jujutsu sorcerer for the sake of a peaceful life, then all we have to do is destroy that peaceful life. Make it so the sorcerers never accept him again."
"I'd rather not provoke a lunatic."
"That won't be a problem."
Hoshino Ei stared straight into her wavering reflection. The smile on her lips bloomed slowly. Behind those wine-red irises swirled something rich and fervent, as if she were drunk on her own emotion:
"I'll give Kira-sensei a new kind of peace."
"A peace where no one disturbs him. An eternal peace... Ah, that would truly be bliss."