Do You Know of the Bloody Night?

Miwa Chisei got up groggily in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. As soon as she climbed out of bed, she stepped on something.

"Ow!"

It wasn't some wild beast, but a human voice.

She frowned and thought for a moment, then remembered that two uninvited guests had packed her thirty-square-meter apartment so full that she didn't even have anywhere to put her feet.

"Miwa, are you blind?!"

Even in the dark, she could hear the boy gritting his teeth.

"Sorry, I have normal human eyes, unlike your 'Six Eyes' with their built-in night vision."

With not a trace of remorse in her apology, Miwa Chisei followed her usual route. This time, she didn't step on any strange limbs. Apparently, Satoru Gojo had contorted himself into some bizarre position to avoid being trampled.

Why even bother, then? I really don't understand. Are these two masochists?

Heaven seemed to have heard its devout believer's prayers. At nine that morning, Suguru Geto's phone rang.

"An emergency assignment? Yes, Satoru is with me."

"Understood. Send me the address."

"He probably put it on silent. I didn't hear his phone ring either."

Miwa Chisei had divided the room in two with a low table. Hearing the news lifted her spirits, and she eagerly crawled out from under her bedding to kneel on top of it, her face full of anticipation.

Suguru Geto couldn't help laughing. "Miss Miwa, do you have to be so eager to kick us out?"

"You're welcome to visit again with a gift, Mr. Geto. But please don't bring this guy."

Miwa Chisei spoke quite seriously. She didn't sound like she was joking at all.

Gojo gave a soft huff, picked up the uniform jacket beside him, and put it on. "As long as you go to Jujutsu High, I won't set foot in this place ever again."

His words dripped with disdain. Miwa Chisei couldn't be bothered to argue. Her crimson eyes gazed listlessly at the pale wooden ceiling as she replied flatly.

"What an ordeal for you. Please hurry up and leave."

In the end, Suguru Geto still helped Miwa Chisei straighten her bedding. Only after helping themselves to two bottles of milk did the pair leave her apartment.

Ugh, they're such bad people.

The girl counted her few remaining cartons of milk and decided to hide them in the cupboard.

It was the weekend, so business on Fortune-Telling Street would be good. At one in the afternoon, Miwa Chisei slung on her backpack. Inside were a tablecloth, paper, and pens-her few tools for telling fortunes.

Vendors had already begun arriving along the street, and they greeted Miwa Chisei when they saw her. After all, she was a young girl running a business alone, so the adults tended to look out for her a little.

But when she passed the familiar stall, that alluring figure was nowhere to be seen. The rich floral fragrance of the scented candles had vanished, too.

A strange feeling stirred in Miwa Chisei's heart. On weekends, Yamato Kaho almost always set up her stall just after noon. Had yesterday's events left her too shaken?

She didn't have a phone, so she couldn't contact Yamato Kaho. When she reached her own little stall at the end of the street, the sign reading "Fortune-telling: 50,000 yen per question" seemed a little crooked.

Miwa Chisei straightened the sign, then calmly settled into her chair. Tucking both hands into the sleeves of her dark kimono, she began to let her mind go blank.

She suppressed her restless cursed energy and fought to keep her hands from forming a seal.

I said 50,000 yen per reading. Peering into someone's fate without their handwriting will shorten my life.

Because of this power, her perception of everything around her would gradually grow dull. All she needed was for someone to write a few words and leave a trace, and she could perform her jujutsu. She didn't actually want to become a numb, indifferent person.

But that turmoil within her came not from the Miwa family's technique, but from Miwa Chisei's own heart.

Her hands were hidden in her sleeves, but she gripped her wrist tightly.

"Hey, Miwa."

A voice suddenly sounded in front of her. Flustered, Miwa Chisei looked at the silver-haired boy crouching before her little table. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, so why could she read his emotions?

Was that resignation, with a hint of pity?

"Come with me."

"But I'm working."

"Stop pretending. You felt it too, didn't you?" Satoru Gojo's voice abruptly rose. "Come with me."

Miwa Chisei stood stiffly. Her movements were so sluggish that she even banged into the wooden table.

The thump sounded painful. Satoru Gojo looked up at the almost expressionless girl and couldn't resist commenting, "Don't you feel pain?"

Miwa Chisei stared blankly at Satoru Gojo. He clearly had little interest in hearing her answer and simply stood up and walked away.

At a loss, Miwa Chisei followed that tall figure. The street ahead grew increasingly familiar. Although she had only been here once, she couldn't be mistaken.

It was the route to Yamato Kaho's home.

An apartment building at the end of the street had already been cordoned off with police tape. Curious neighbors peered over and whispered among themselves, while uniformed police officers seemed to be discussing something with unidentified people in black suits.

The people in black suits weren't surprised to see Satoru Gojo. They merely nodded, seemingly acquainted with him.

But their gazes lingered on Miwa Chisei behind Satoru Gojo, confusion flickering in their eyes.

What's this? Matching hair colors and sunglasses? Are they a couple?

Satoru Gojo stepped over the police tape with one long stride, while Miwa Chisei had to duck under it.

Then she heard a faintly mocking chuckle.

Yamato Kaho's apartment was on the third floor. She lived alone in the one-bedroom unit.

Suguru Geto stood at the door. When he saw the two of them, a hint of disapproval crossed his face.

"Shouldn't we keep Miss Miwa from going inside?"

Satoru Gojo patted his shoulder, his tone casual.

"Don't underestimate the Miwa family's kid."

Miwa Chisei had already caught the faint scent of blood. Her already fair skin seemed to grow even paler. She reached out, gently pushed the two boys aside, and stepped into the apartment.

Blood spatter began at the entryway, and stiffened pieces of limbs lay in the living room. The trail of blood stretched all the way to the bedroom, where the thick, pungent stench of blood grew even stronger.

Miwa Chisei raised a hand to remove her sunglasses and walked stiffly toward the bedroom.

The pale purple bedding must have been in Yamato Kaho's favorite color. It was even printed with cute purple lavender flowers, but that elegant hue had been soaked beyond recognition with blood that had already blackened.

The mangled right half of Yamato Kaho's body lay there, as though a sharp blade had split her down the middle. Her organs spilled across the bedding. It was impossible to imagine what kind of brutal violence had taken place in this room the night before.

The eye in the remaining half of her head was wide open, still holding traces of terror and despair.

How frightened she must have been. How much she must have suffered.

Miwa Chisei felt her heart pounding. She grabbed the fabric over her chest and clenched it fiercely in her fist.

A pair of large hands silently settled on her shoulders, seemingly trying to soothe her spiraling emotions.

"Yamato Kaho. Time of death: three a.m. Traces of cursed residue were left at the scene."

Satoru Gojo's voice was calm, but he, too, let out a quiet sigh at the end.