"Bzz-"
The airport announcements echoed through the cavernous departure lounge, the synthesized female voice cold and mechanical as it repeatedly urged the remaining passengers to board.
Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, cutting bright strips across the floor. Dust drifted slowly through the beams.
Satoru Gojo stood in the middle of the airport, his eyes wide.
He looked down at himself: his black Jujutsu High uniform, collar slightly open, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Tousled white hair fell over his forehead. No bandages covered his eyes, nor a blindfold-just his familiar round sunglasses. He reached up and touched his face. No blood, no wounds. His skin was smooth, as though he had never fought a single battle.
"Huh?" A short, bewildered breath escaped him.
"Hey, Satoru."
A familiar voice came from in front of him, languid and gentle, like a breeze passing through the shade on a summer afternoon.
Satoru Gojo jerked his head up.
Suguru Geto stood a few steps away, wearing the black uniform from their Jujutsu High days. His bangs hung over his forehead, obscuring half of one eye. A faint, unreadable smile rested on his lips. His hands were in his pockets, his posture as relaxed as if he had just walked out of a classroom.
"Long time no see."
Satoru Gojo's mouth fell open, his pupils widening several times over in that instant. His lips moved a few times before he forced a voice out of his throat, carrying a tremor even he could hardly believe.
"Geto... is this real?"
"Seriously." A hint of exasperation entered Suguru Geto's voice. He walked over to a nearby chair, sat down, crossed his legs, and leaned back.
"Why that tone? I'm not exactly in the mood to listen to you complain."
"Pfft-hahaha!"
Satoru Gojo suddenly burst out