My name is Rihito Sato

Fushiguro whipped his head around and saw Maki standing beside him.

Her breathing was uneven too. Clearly, she had run all the way here at full speed.

"Maki..."

"Wait." Maki's voice was quiet. Her gaze passed over him and settled on the clearing. "Look at his eyes."

Fushiguro followed her gaze.

Kamo's blood droplets had woven a dark red net in the air.

Nishimiya hovered overhead, the wind pressure at the tip of her broom pressing the dead leaves on the ground into a shallow vortex.

The blade on Mechamaru's right arm had reached maximum speed. Miwa held her sword in both hands, its tip aimed at the spot between Rihito's eyebrows.

And Rihito stood in the center, a small patch of dark red blood seeping through the fabric over his left shoulder. His breathing was rapid, and he was a battered mess.

But Fushiguro recognized those eyes.

During their two months of intensive training, Rihito's eyes had looked like that every time he was pushed to his limits and refused to admit defeat.

"Have you forgotten your training together?" Maki kept her voice very low, but every word brimmed with trust in Rihito.

Fushiguro didn't answer. His gaze shifted to Rihito's feet.

Two clear footprints marked the dead leaves, with no signs of dragging around their edges.

Surrounded by four people, he hadn't lost his balance once.

"Fushiguro, the most important thing between teammates is trust."

Satoru Gojo had told them that on the athletic field when their training first began.

"Yeah," Fushiguro had replied at the time, without really feeling much about it.

But now...

Rihito was in danger from the start. He should have had a chance to escape long ago. Why has he stayed this whole time?

He has his reasons for doing this. Should I trust him?

Knowing and feeling reassured had always been two different things.

Now, Fushiguro's brows were tightly knitted as he wrestled with himself.

He couldn't bear to stand there doing nothing while a teammate faced mortal danger.

But Satoru Gojo's words kept echoing in his ears.

Trust him?

Or... save him?

The forest wind swept broken leaves past his feet.

Kamo's blood droplets pressed a little lower, and Nishimiya's wind blades gave off a faint hum at the tip of her broom.

The others also closed in on Rihito from different directions.

Fushiguro stared toward him, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Every muscle in his body was taut. The hands he had lowered slowly began to rise again.

But this time, Maki didn't stop him.

"Hey! Stop."

Just then, a voice suddenly came from his right.

It was Kugisaki.

Kugisaki appeared beside Fushiguro, still holding her hammer. A slash ran across the cuff of her uniform.

When they had noticed Kamo's group approaching earlier, Kugisaki and Mai had both stopped fighting without a word and headed in opposite directions.

Fushiguro had appeared just then, and Kugisaki had followed when she saw him.

"Rihito's in danger. I'm going to help him!" Fushiguro's hands were already at his chest, about to form the hand sign for the Ten Shadows Technique.

Kugisaki didn't answer immediately.

She looked past Fushiguro's shoulder toward the center of the clearing.

Inside the encirclement, Rihito's body rose and fell slightly. His eyes were fixed on Kamo.

Kugisaki withdrew her gaze.

"Yeah, it's pretty dangerous."

Her tone held a complicated mix of envy, anticipation, and tension.

But not a trace of worry.

Kugisaki's tone held a complicated mix of envy, anticipation, and tension.

But not a trace of worry.

"Tch! Does Rihito's safety not matter to you anymore?" Fushiguro's tone grew sharper.

"He's surrounded by four people! Any second, he could..."

"Do you remember the last test?" Kugisaki suddenly interrupted him.

The test?

Fushiguro froze. The tense scene before him suddenly blurred, and memories began flashing through his mind like scenes from a movie.

"Fushiguro, Kugisaki, are you willing to trust me?"

Rihito braced himself and struggled to his feet. Most of his uniform had been torn apart, and his right sleeve was almost soaked through with blood.

His knees kept trembling, but his back remained straight.

In the pit ahead, a dense swarm of cursed spirits crawled out of the shadows, their jointed limbs scraping against the stone walls with piercing screeches.

Fushiguro leaned against the base of the wall, pressing his palm to the ground to push himself up, but his fingers merely clawed uselessly through a layer of dust.

Kugisaki's hammer had rolled beside her feet. She didn't even have the strength to lift her fingers.

"Rihito, wipe out every last one of those disgusting things!"

Kugisaki waved a fist, then lowered it with a grimace as the motion pulled at her wound.

Fushiguro said nothing. Rihito's back was reflected in his dark eyes.

"Rihito, go for it!" he said softly.

They had passed the test that time.

The training ground's heavy iron doors were pushed open from outside, and sunlight poured in ahead of Satoru Gojo.

With his hands in his pockets, he walked up to the three of them.

His gaze lingered for a moment on Rihito's blood-soaked sleeve before he spoke, skipping his usual roundabout remarks for once.

"Well, nice work." Satoru Gojo tilted his head, his smile a little less flippant than usual.

"Remember this feeling. The most valuable thing between teammates isn't cursed energy or a cursed technique. It's the trust you showed in that moment, without hesitation."

The forest wind swept broken leaves past Fushiguro's feet.

A moment later, he opened his eyes.

Rihito, can I trust you? Fushiguro asked himself.

The answer was yes.

Fushiguro's clenched fists suddenly loosened, and the tension in his body gradually eased.

His gaze settled on Rihito's feet again.

Two clear footprints marked the dead leaves, still without any signs of dragging around their edges.

The four of them had surrounded him for so long, yet he had never lost his balance.

He'll win!

Only two minutes had passed between Kamo's group arriving and Fushiguro deciding not to intervene.

During those two minutes, the four attackers had gradually driven Rihito into a desperate corner.

His breathing was heavy. The wound on his left shoulder had torn open again as he dodged, and warm blood streamed down his arm, dripping onto the dead leaves

at his feet.

Mechamaru's blade grazed his side. Nishimiya's wind blades cut off his retreat. Miwa's sword came down from the front, while Kamo's blood droplets followed him like a shadow.

There was nowhere to dodge.

At that very instant, an image suddenly flashed through Rihito's mind.

It was the training ground two months ago.

The iron doors were shut tight, the lights were dim, and a dense swarm of cursed spirits surged out of the pit like a tide.

He had stood in front of his teammates and wiped out every cursed spirit.

Actually... I'm pretty strong now.

Suddenly, Rihito smiled.

He lifted his eyes, sweeping his gaze across the faces of Kamo, Mechamaru, Miwa, and Nishimiya in turn.

"Allow me to introduce myself..."

His voice wasn't loud, and it was still rough with labored breathing, but every word reached everyone present with perfect clarity.

"My name is Rihito Sato."

Kamo frowned.

Miwa's fingers tightened slightly around her sword.

Mechamaru's metallic eyes locked onto Rihito's face.

They didn't understand why a first-year covered in wounds, cornered by four opponents, would say something like that at a time like this.

"We've wasted enough time," Kamo said with a frown. The blood droplets at his fingertips shuddered violently in the air. "Let's finish him off!"

In the next instant, all four attacked at once.

Mechamaru's Wrist Cannon roared. Nishimiya's wind blades slashed down from above. Miwa's sword closed in from the front, and Kamo's blood droplets wove a net without a single opening.

Four attacks converged from four directions, crushing the space around Rihito inch by inch.

Then-

Everyone's expression changed in an instant.

Nishimiya's wind blades dispersed on their own in midair. Her broom abruptly drifted half a foot backward, and her hovering stance became unsteady.

"Could it be..."

Mechamaru's Wrist Cannon didn't fire. His metallic pupils dilated and contracted wildly as his sensors constantly refreshed the cursed energy readings ahead.

"Impossible."

Kamo's blood droplets hung in midair, no longer trembling. One bead of blood fell out of his control and struck a dead leaf with a soft tap.

"Special Grade?"

Miwa took a step back, crushing a small piece of dead branch beneath her shoe.

"Get back!"

Rihito stood where he was.

His left shoulder was still bleeding, his uniform was in tatters, and he looked utterly battered.

But the dead leaves at his feet were slowly being covered by a layer of bitter frost.

"Domain Expansion-"