Half an hour later.
Ikebukuro.
Neon reflections shattered into a mess of color on the puddles lining the street, and fine rain wove itself into a thin, half-transparent curtain.
Someone like Gojo Satoru — even holding a completely unremarkable black umbrella, walking through a crowd — looked like a high-wattage spotlight in a dark room.
He had one arm draped over Uchiha Ayato’s shoulder with zero personal space awareness, leaning most of his weight onto him.
The umbrella tilted at an awkward angle over both of them.
“Come on, don’t make that face, Ayato-kun~” “Since you’ve agreed to come to Jujutsu High, I’m not gonna shortchange you, I promise.” Gojo’s voice was bright in the rain, the kind of cheerful that made you want to put a fist through it: “The family restaurant up ahead does this hamburger steak set that’ll knock your soul out of your body — the sauce is unreal.” “Order whatever you want when we get there.
Teacher’s treat.
Order the whole menu if you feel like it!” Uchiha Ayato’s eyelids drooped.
Those usually magnetic dark eyes had gone full dead fish.
Uchiha Ayato: Okay, well.
Got forced into it, I guess.
Such is life.
Though the system notification floating in the corner of his vision at least put a small bandage on his dignity — [Career Mission: Accept Kakashi Hatake’s invitation.
Join Team 7.] [Status: Complete] [Reward: Three-Tomoe Sharingan] Fine.
For that upgrade alone, this deal was just barely worth it.
“Sensei, was your sense of personal space burned off when your Innate Technique awakened, or something?” Ayato complained flatly, making a half-hearted attempt to squirm out from under that arm.
Which Gojo immediately responded to by tightening his grip with even more enthusiasm.
“I don’t need a concept like that — Sensei’s love knows no limits~” Up ahead, the traffic light clicked to green, the countdown blinking through the rain.
“Hm?” Mid-sentence, Gojo went quiet with a sudden sound of curiosity.
Ayato followed his line of sight through the rain.
On the crosswalk, a girl in a cream-colored top and a grey plaid skirt with blue hair was stumbling toward them — while bawling her eyes out, completely oblivious to the world.
She hadn’t bothered with an umbrella.
The cold rain had soaked through her originally neat twin tails and plastered them flat against her cheeks and neck.
The streetlights stretched her unsteady shadow long behind her.
Togawa Sakiko.
The Togawa Sakiko who had just personally run CRYCHIC into the ground with her own hands.
Ayato clocked her in one glance.
This scene — her crying in the rain at this exact spot — was basically an iconic CG illustration from the anime.
Then the system fired off — [Social Mission: Earn Uchiha Sasuke’s friendship.
Reward: Dōjutsu: Amaterasu] Uchiha Ayato: ???
Oh come on, seriously?
Is this right?
She’s Sasuke and I’m…
what does that make me?
The system has truly blessed our second son of the Uchiha.
The friendship mission, though…
If this were Soft Sakiko from before, that mission would’ve been a cakewalk.
But the Togawa Sakiko standing in that rain right now had already killed off the soft version of herself.
This needed a different approach altogether.
Better leave Big Sister Sakiko alone for now.
Man, if only he knew Edo Tensei — he could just bring Sakiko’s old self back from the grave and skip all the headache.
“Do middle schoolers all do the whole tragic-in-the-rain thing these days?” Gojo watched with genuine interest as that small figure disappeared into the depth of the downpour.
“That’s some serious crying.
Not even holding an umbrella.” Uchiha Ayato pulled his gaze back, shoved both hands into his pockets, flat voice: “Who knows?
Middle school girls are their own breed.” “Maybe she figures getting drenched will clear her head a little.” Signing his soul over to BanG Dream!
Ave Mujica — watching it at 10 PM every Thursday that year — was easily one of the top decisions Uchiha Ayato most regretted in his life.
Machi Hiroi, I will probably never forgive you.
“Oh?” Gojo was Gojo — even with Ayato’s voice as flat as it was, he still caught the faintest undercurrent of something behind it.
He raised an eyebrow, glancing back at Ayato’s face.
“Sounds like you know her?” “Or is she one of the candidates in this live-in plan of yours?” “Candidates?” Ayato let out a short scoff.
His gaze landed on the swaying blue figure for barely a second before sliding off.
“You’re overthinking it, sensei.” “A girl who cries like the sky is falling the moment something goes wrong?
Way too heavy as a candidate.” “Besides, for all we know her family just went bankrupt.” “I just happened to catch her band play a live at CiRCLE once, that’s all.” Ayato stopped walking.
He tilted his head slightly, chin dipping, gaze skirting past Gojo’s shoulder and landing on the far side of the crosswalk.
There, in front of a practice room door, stood a girl in a Tsukinomori Girls’ Academy uniform — delicate as a doll, with pale green hair.
She was frozen in place in the rain.
She was clutching an umbrella to her chest.
Her knuckles had gone a sickly, bloodless white from holding it too tight.
Rain ran down through her light green hair and pooled at the hollow of her collarbone, but she didn’t seem to feel the cold at all.
The only thing alive in her were those golden eyes, holding the reflection of Sakiko’s retreating silhouette.
“That one’s more interesting to me.” Uchiha Ayato narrowed his eyes.
A flash of crimson swept through his pupils and was gone.
“She’s holding an umbrella, but she’s just standing there watching her friend get soaked.” “That kind of self-loathing — the kind that knows exactly what it wants to do but physically can’t move — should be pretty visible from where you’re standing, yeah?” Gojo followed Ayato’s gaze and turned to look.
The playful edge in his smile dimmed just a fraction.
He pulled the blindfold down slightly, letting that sliver of sky blue show through, and let his eyes cut through rain and distance to land precisely on the girl.
“Oh…” A long, slow exhale.
“What a dense cloud of negative emotion.
Like she’s got a mountain of corpses and rivers of blood locked up somewhere inside her.” “And that way she’s completely locked down — sealing all the pain and obsession inside herself…” “In the jujutsu world, even in those old-fashioned sorcerer families, a girl like her — a raw gem with the potential to become a truly extraordinary sorcerer — is extremely rare~” “Not bad, Ayato-kun.
Your nose is sharper than I expected.” Gojo watched Wakaba Mutsumi standing there like she’d taken root in the pavement, and let a mischievous curve grow on his lips: “Feel like picking her up while we’re at it?
I bet you’re good at talking lost little puppets back onto their feet.” “Leave her out of it.” Uchiha Ayato sighed.
“Ignorance is its own kind of bliss.” “Being wrapped up in a world of smiles, tears, and girl-group drama is perfectly fine.
No need to step into the real one.” “One person drowning in hell is enough.
That person can be me.” With that, Uchiha Ayato walked on ahead without looking back.
Gojo stared at Mutsumi for a few more seconds, then glanced at Ayato already heading toward the family restaurant, and let out a chain of easy laughs.
“Hey!
Ayato-kun, wait up!” “And remember to order the special jumbo strawberry parfait when we get there — in fact, make it three.
One is not even close to enough for me!” To be continued…