Night.
Suguru Geto called a Specialist on duty to come pick him up, then turned to look helplessly at his three tagalongs.
“Ah munch.” “Ah munch.” “Ah munch.” The blue-haired beautiful boy and the two little girls walked out of the station, each clutching a sandwich.
They bit into them nearly in unison, then broke into identical expressions of pure bliss.
The timing was so perfect it could’ve been a bit from a comedy film.
“So this is modern food?
I can sense its rationality!” That was Himmel.
He’d try anything once.
“Delishush!” “Mhm mhm.” And that was the Hasaba sisters, who hadn’t eaten a proper meal in a very long time.
None of them had paid for the sandwiches.
Two imprisoned little girls and a hero from another world , when would they have had money?
Every bite at the table had been covered by one Suguru Geto.
Himmel was one thing.
But watching Mimiko and Nanako look so happy they were nearly in tears, Geto felt something loosen in his chest, just slightly, for the first time in months.
Whether by coincidence or design, Himmel chose that exact moment to rest a hand on each girl’s head.
“Alright,” he said warmly.
“Say thank you to uncle.” Mimiko: “…Mm.” Nanako: “Thank you.” The sisters had been hostile toward Geto at first, thanks to the misunderstanding that started everything.
But sharing a cab and being treated to a meal had shifted things.
He clearly wasn’t a bad person.
How could someone who buys you a Lawson tuna mayo sandwich be a bad person?
They thanked him anyway, quiet and shy about it.
“…No need for thanks.
Also — not uncle.
Big brother.” Geto’s eye twitched.
“Ah.
My apologies.” Himmel sucked in a sharp breath.
He wasn’t performing , he was genuinely startled.
Common sense told him Jujutsu High was probably a high school.
He’d just assumed Geto was a teacher.
Understandable, really.
Geto was unusually tall for his age, and the combination of year-round travel, chronic late nights, double shifts, and the constant mental weight of his Cursed Technique had done their damage.
His seventeen-year-old face looked as worn as a thirty-five-year-old programmer’s.
The exhausted corporate drone smell was a finishing touch.
…..
Am I really looking that old?
Geto almost talked himself into buying a mirror from the convenience store.
His phone rang.
He answered.
“Yeah, we’re back.” A pause.
“Yeah.
Just bring them over?” Procedure said he should contact Jujutsu High’s current administrator , Teacher Yaga, his homeroom teacher , to come conduct a formal examination and interview with the Hasaba sisters and figure out next steps.
But , “…Haaah…” Geto glanced back.
The black-haired Mimiko was fading.
She was rubbing her eyes, fighting a yawn, barely keeping herself upright , but still clutching the hem of Himmel’s cloak like a lifeline.
Himmel had been keeping her talking the entire way back, just to keep her from going under.
Mid-call, Geto changed course.
“Forget it, teacher.
I’ll take them to the dorms first, let them sleep.” “Hm?
Is there a problem with that?” “Hey, why are you yelling?” “Don’t be like that.
What do you mean ‘messing with you’?
You know I’ve always respected you more than anyone.” He kept his voice low so Himmel wouldn’t hear, then hung up without waiting for a response and fired off a text.
[Shoko, I picked up two Jujutsu Sorcerer girls on the outside.
They have nowhere to sleep.
Can they stay in your dorm tonight?] It was 11:30 PM.
The message read in ten seconds flat.
The reply was short.
[ok~] Geto pocketed his phone.
“I’ll take you somewhere to sleep first.” Himmel, still chatting with the girls, looked over.
“Can you actually find a place?” In a pinch, Himmel could have built a decent camp shelter from scratch , he had the experience.
But it wasn’t exactly ideal.
“A friend’s dorm.
She never stays there anyway.” “Then I appreciate the trouble.” The Assistant Supervisor pulled up to the station entrance right on cue.
The group climbed in, and the car rolled toward Jujutsu High.
[11:30 PM] The school rose out of the dark ahead of them.
Built into the mountainside, the campus was staggeringly large.
Japanese-style wooden buildings climbed the slopes in clusters, their upturned eaves cutting clean lines against the night sky.
Geto walked the drowsy Hasaba sisters to the dormitory.
The moment they stepped inside and got a proper look at the room , a real city apartment, with actual furniture , they perked right back up.
Curious, careful, trying not to show it too much.
Still.
After however long they’d spent in that place, a bath wasn’t optional.
The problem was the trauma.
Both girls wanted Himmel to come with them into the bathroom , which Himmel, of course, wouldn’t allow.
Geto agreed on that point immediately.
So Himmel stood with his back against the bathroom door instead, answering every anxious “Are you still there?!” from inside.
Geto, not quite willing to leave Himmel alone with the two of them, posted up in the doorway with his arms folded and waited.
By the time the hair-drying was done, both men looked like they’d run a marathon.
“Whew…” Geto stared at the two sisters curled up together, already half-asleep, and wore the expression of a new parent who had just survived their first night.
“You worked hard,” Himmel said from beside him, smiling.
“I barely did anything.
You’re the one who’s surprisingly good at blow-drying hair.” “…I have a little experience.” He thought of his party’s mage.
The hero’s expression went soft with something old and warm.
Watching him, Geto thought: He looks like a little old man catching some sun.
……..
…
That night.
The girls refused to let go of Himmel, so he stayed in the room.
Not in the bed , he settled cross-legged on the floor beside it, arms raised with one hand holding each girl’s, patient and still as a statue.
When their breathing smoothed out and steadied, he finally let himself exhale.
He closed his eyes.
He went over the day.
Dying.
Being summoned by the goddess.
He’d meant to reincarnate , to rest, and find his companions again in another life.
But then he’d heard the crying, from somewhere far across the worlds, and he hadn’t been able to walk past it.
I really am…
Sorry, Heiter.
When you reincarnate, I’ll bring you a drink.
After you come of age.
Then the fight with Suguru Geto.
On the subject of fighting , As a Heroic Spirit, Himmel was something of an odd case.
The Water Goddess had explained it simply: he’d become a Heroic Spirit in the last possible moment before death, which meant technically he hadn’t died, which meant he couldn’t become incorporeal like most Spirits.
And because he was a Heroic Spirit of the Goddess rather than of Human History, he still had room to grow.
His current physical abilities matched his peak.
On top of that, he’d come with several skills he still didn’t fully understand.
He’d get to them eventually.
He thought about Geto.
That young man was genuinely formidable.
Honestly, without the skills, dealing with him wouldn’t have been easy.
But the hero had never been the strongest.
Neither had his party.
They were a group of flawed, mismatched people who somehow fit together just right , and who, by some miracle, had brought down the Demon King.
The memories came in waves.
Himmel smiled faintly and let himself drift.
That night , maybe because his companions had laid him to rest just one day ago , his dreams were full of them.
…
…
Rustle…
Rustle…
Night had seeped into every corner of the forest.
The world was quiet except for the evening wind moving through the leaves.
A campfire burned in a small clearing.
The wood crackled and split, sending sparks spiraling up into a sky that was deep, dark blue.
“Hah — ugh, I can’t drink anymore — like hell I can’t, bring it on!
Hahaha!
I can handle all of it!” “Whooooo ,” The priest Heiter , drunk monk, lover of wine , and the dwarf warrior Eisen had somehow ended up in a heap inside the tent, tangled face-to-face, snoring in perfect harmony.
Himmel was leaning against a tree, sword in his arms.
His eyes opened.
This is…
A hero’s discipline didn’t allow for falling asleep on watch.
And the dream was too clear , too sharp around the edges.
Some mechanism of the Heroic Spirit, probably.
“Awake?” The voice came from ahead of him.
Himmel’s attention snapped to it.
“…Frieren?” “Hm?
Why does it sound like a question?” In the firelight, a white-haired beauty slowly lifted her head and looked at him.
The person the hero had loved first.
The person the hero had never stopped loving.
Her name was Frieren.
➤ Next: Himmel: Actually,
The story is already written.