The Zenin Clan, Zhiyan's courtyard.
Shoko sat beneath the veranda, her gaze resting on the old tree in the courtyard. In the afternoon sunlight, its foliage took on a deep, almost golden green, and whenever a breeze passed through, the leaves rustled softly.
Her brow was slightly furrowed.
Zhiyan had told her everything that had happened.
Ogi Zenin's rebellion, Jujutsu Headquarters' conspiracy, the woman with stitches on her forehead, Toji being controlled, the attack on the Star Plasma Vessel, and Wana and Satoru Gojo nearly dying in the Tombs of the Star Corridor.
Ogi Zenin was dead. The higher-ups at Jujutsu Headquarters were dead. Of those connected to the incident, some had died, some had been arrested, and others had fled.
Zhiyan's methods had been far more ruthless than she had imagined-leaving no loose ends, tearing the threat out by its roots, sparing no one.
But the consequences were impossible to ignore.
"So..."
Shoko's voice broke the courtyard's silence. Her brow was still furrowed, her eyes serious and not quite at ease.
"Is this really going to be all right?"
She tilted her head to look at Zhiyan beside her. He stood with his gaze on the same tree, his profile calm in the sunlight-so calm that she couldn't tell what he was thinking.
Zhiyan raised his hand from his side and gently laid it over the back of hers, folded across her chest.
"There will be consequences, certainly."
"But we'll do our best to keep them to a minimum."
He paused, looking away from the tree toward somewhere farther, broader-the whole of Jujutsu Society.
"After discussing it, we've decided that the old man, the other two clan heads, people like Mr. Shirakawa, and trusted members of the Three Great Families will fill those vacancies."
Shoko's brow eased a little.