Kyoto's Darkest Day

"Bang—!!!"

As the final column of deep-sea-blue cursed energy shot into the sky from the heart of the forest, not a single startled bird remained on the entire back mountain. Then came an ear-splitting crash—the dull aftermath of something heavy, presumably Todo Aoi at the peak of his life, smashing through at least five ancient pines thick enough to take two people to embrace.

Mizuki Makoto sat on the hillside, having just stuffed the last slice of wagyu dipped in soul sauce into his mouth. He even had the leisure to wash it down with an ice-cold cola and let out a long, satisfied burp.

"Hmm. Looks like Yuta has finished his 'physical exorcism.'"

Mizuki adjusted his glasses and slowly got to his feet, beginning to pack up his folding table and chairs. Just then, a desperate scraping sound came from the bushes at the edge of the forest, followed by several bedraggled figures stumbling out.

Mai led the group. Her once-crisp Kyoto Jujutsu High uniform was now dusty and gray, dead leaves tangled in her short hair, while the Winchester in her hand had become an S-shaped piece of scrap metal. Nishimiya Momo, following close behind, looked even worse. Her twin ponytails, usually sticking straight up, had fallen loose, and her face was as white as a freshly painted wall from sheer fright. The way she clutched her broom made her look like a startled housekeeper.

"Mizuki... Mizuki..." Mai braced herself against a tree, her voice hoarse as though it had been ground over sandpaper. "You called that monster... a 'gentle capybara'?"

"Yeah. As long as you don't trigger his Rika defense mechanism, he really is pretty gentle."

Carrying his hiking pack, Mizuki Makoto walked over with a smile and casually handed her an unopened can of herbal tea. "So? How did Pandora's Box taste? Yuta probably took... seven minutes? The fact that you lasted that long is enough to leave a bold mark in Kyoto Jujutsu High's history."

Mai snatched the herbal tea from him and gulped it down. Then she pointed at the forest behind her, which had now gone completely silent, her eyes full of the lingering terror of a survivor.

"When... when he charged at us, he was muttering something terrifying like, 'Makoto-kun's barbecue isn't finished yet, so hurry up.' That lunatic Todo didn't even get the chance to ask about his XP before the monster called Rika slapped him straight into the river!"

"Oh? That was fast indeed." Mizuki Makoto nodded in deep agreement. "After all, depriving a growing boy of wagyu is an offense against heaven."

At that moment, the atmosphere inside Kyoto Jujutsu High's observation room could only be described as deathly silent.

On the large screen, Okkotsu Yuta stood awkwardly amid a field of ruins, with Rika already shrinking back into his shadow behind him. He carefully picked up the talismans belonging to Kyoto Jujutsu High from the ground. As he did so, he gave the crow camera a shy smile.

"Um... sorry. I accidentally took them all. May I go eat meat with Makoto-kun now?"

"Go! Jo!!!"

Utahime Iori's voice had gone slightly shrill from extreme anger and grievance. She pointed at Okkotsu Yuta on the screen, who had barely broken a sweat, then at Mizuki Makoto, who was already packing up on the hillside and even picking up a few empty cola cans for the sake of environmental protection.

"This is Tokyo Jujutsu High's 'team competition'?! What do you take the Exchange Event for?!"

"Oh, Utahime, isn't the result obvious?"

Gojo Satoru sprawled in his chair. Apparently, not getting to watch Todo beat Mizuki Makoto senseless made him feel a little "upset," but that signature punchable grin remained on his face as he stubbornly said, "This proves that Tokyo Jujutsu High not only values strength, but also values 'teamwork.'"

Yaga Masamichi said nothing, but the cursed corpse in his hand, nearly crushed to pieces, said everything.

The signal flare rose into the sky again.

[Team competition over. Winner: Tokyo Jujutsu High.]

When Okkotsu Yuta came jogging over to me with a huge katana bag on his back, looking a little embarrassed, I was tying up the last garbage bag.

"Makoto-kun, I wasn't late, was I?" Okkotsu's eyes sparkled like those of a Samoyed waiting for praise after running a marathon.

"Your timing was perfect, Yuta." Mizuki patted his shoulder, pulled out a reserved thick-cut steak wrapped tightly in aluminum foil, and handed it to him. "Here, your reward. Eat it while it's hot. Mai and the others tried to steal it just now, but I didn't give them any."

"Thank you, Makoto-kun!"

Thus, under the extremely complicated, nearly shattered gazes of Kyoto Jujutsu High's medical team that had come to receive them, the two members of Tokyo Jujutsu High's "most evil duo"—one chewing beef and the other picking his teeth—swaggered out of the arena.

As he passed before old Principal Gakuganji, Mizuki Makoto stopped and gave an elegant bow.

"Principal Gakuganji, as for the venue rental fee for that wagyu stall earlier, Gojo-sensei will transfer it directly from his own account to Kyoto Jujutsu High. After all, we at Tokyo Jujutsu High care most about 'rules.'"

The old man's hand plucking the strings suddenly trembled, and with a snap, one of the strings broke.

Meanwhile, beneath a flagpole not far away, Gojo Satoru was making faces at the furiously stomping Utahime and shouting with laughter.

"Utahime! I'm really taking this year's pennant home to use as a doormat! Remember to wash it clean first!"

The next day, when the draw results for the first individual match came out, all of Kyoto Jujutsu High fell into a solemnity resembling that before a funeral.

Okkotsu Yuta VS Miwa Kasumi.

"Gojo! Do you even have a heart?!" Utahime Iori stared at the names on the large screen, so angry that tears nearly came out. Pointing at Gojo Satoru's face, practically glowing with delight, she accused, "You're making that little monster fight Miwa? This isn't just a lack of sportsmanship anymore—you're committing a crime!"

"Oh, Utahime, don't get so worked up." Gojo Satoru adjusted his sunglasses and cheerfully popped a gummy candy into his mouth. "Yuta is very gentle."

In truth, everyone at Kyoto Jujutsu High had already lit a candle for Miwa Kasumi in their hearts. After all, they had personally witnessed Okkotsu Yuta knock Kamo Noritoshi unconscious with a single punch during the team competition, even after Kamo activated Crimson Scale Surge.

Yet the match on the field took a turn no one had expected.

Okkotsu Yuta did not summon Rika, nor did he display that bone-chilling pressure. With his katana bag on his back, he walked onto the field and gave Miwa Kasumi a deep ninety-degree bow, his tone so sincere it nearly made people cry.

"Um... Miwa-san, if you don't mind, could we only exchange swordsmanship? Um, Rika isn't in a very good mood today—and as for why she was in a bad mood, Todo, do you have a pig for a head?—so I don't want to fight too intensely here."

Miwa Kasumi froze, the katana in her hand trembling slightly. She had already prepared herself mentally for a trip straight from the arena to the operating room, only for her opponent to offer her an exceptionally graceful way out.

"No problem, Okkotsu-kun!" Miwa Kasumi nodded hurriedly, gratitude at escaping death blazing in her eyes. "Um, just so you know, I'll be using New Shadow Style's Simple Domain: Sword Draw. Please teach me!"

And so, beneath everyone's dumbfounded gazes, the first individual match became a highly entertaining contest of swordsmanship. Their blades crossed, sparks flew, and both sides tacitly kept their cursed energy limited to defense alone.

Miwa Kasumi fought the most confident match of her career, while Okkotsu Yuta acted like a gentle sparring partner. In the final exchange, he feinted and lightly pressed the back of his blade against Miwa's throat.

"I lost! Thank you for the lesson!" Miwa Kasumi cried brightly, her face even flushed with the rosy glow of something called "successfully meeting an idol."

"This child... he's nothing like that bastard Gojo! What a good child!"

In the observation room, Utahime Iori held her face in both hands, tears of emotion practically shimmering in her eyes. Watching Okkotsu Yuta gracefully pick up Miwa Kasumi's scabbard on the screen, even thoughtfully handing her a handkerchief to wipe away sweat, she felt that he was one of only two oases in the moral desert known as Tokyo Jujutsu High.

"This courtesy, this sense of propriety, this respect for his opponent... Gojo Satoru, look carefully! This is how a human being should act!" Utahime roared, turning toward Gojo Satoru, who was sprawled in his chair picking at his nails.

"Oh, Yuta really is a good kid. A good kid from our Gojo Clan." Gojo Satoru whistled, his tone light. "And Utahime, did you forget that the Rika behind this 'good kid' nearly tore off your Kamo's arm yesterday like it was a chew toy?"

"Shut up! That was... that was because Kamo lacked skill!" Utahime decisively declared that Kamo Noritoshi lacked skill.

However, when the screen switched to the second match and showed Mizuki Makoto, who was rubbing his lower back and grinning wickedly at the camera—Mei Mei's crow—while making a money-counting gesture, Utahime's blood pressure shot through the roof again.

"As for this Mizuki Makoto... birds of a feather flock together. That disgusting 'Gojo stench' on him could kill me through the screen!"

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