Chapter 45: The End of the Campus Tragedy
The next morning, at Rissaku High School, Junpei Yoshino walked slowly down the corridor with his schoolbag slung over one shoulder.
His steps were heavy.
Even though Yami had told him yesterday that he would come, unease still lingered in his chest like a stone that refused to sink.
After all, this was school.
And for Junpei, school was not a place for learning.
It was hell.
A hell ruled by Sayama, Nishimura, and Honda.
"Hey, isn't that Junpei?"
The mocking voice rang out like a nightmare made real.
Junpei's body stiffened.
He looked up and saw the three faces that had haunted countless sleepless nights.
Sayama was leaning against the windowsill, idly flicking a lighter open and shut. His expression was full of contempt. Nishimura and Honda stepped out from either side, blocking the path ahead.
"What's wrong? You ran pretty fast yesterday."
Sayama straightened and walked over. He grabbed Junpei by the collar, yanking him closer until the reek of cigarettes hit his face.
"I heard you found yourself some backup outside. What was it? Some chuunibyou freak carrying a sword?"
So they knew.
They had already heard about what happened in the alley yesterday.
But of course, in their eyes, that had only been some random thug Junpei had somehow brought in.
"Let go of me," Junpei said through gritted teeth, struggling against Sayama's grip.
"Oh?"
Sayama's eyes turned cold.
"You've got some nerve now."
He pressed the metal roller of the lighter hard against the back of Junpei's hand and dragged it across the skin.
Szzzt.
The spark wheel did not ignite, but the rough metal still tore across his flesh.
Junpei flinched, pain shooting up his arm.
"Looks like yesterday's lesson wasn't enough."
Sayama sneered and shot a glance at the other two.
"Take him to the roof. We'll teach him properly this time."
"Got it."
Nishimura and Honda stepped in at once, each grabbing one of Junpei's arms.
That familiar sense of helplessness surged back into his chest.
Junpei glared at Sayama, rage burning in his eyes.
His right hand slipped quietly into his pocket and closed around the strange cursed object he had picked up yesterday, the medium through which his dormant technique had begun to awaken.
He still could not control it properly.
But he could feel it.
If he wanted to, he could summon something.
Something poisonous.
Something translucent and jellyfish like.
Kill them.
As long as he killed them, everything would end.
Just as Junpei's hatred reached the edge of no return and he was about to activate his technique without hesitation, a crisp series of footsteps echoed from the far end of the corridor.
The sound was not loud.
Yet it carried a strange weight, instantly drowning out every other noise in the hallway.
Everyone turned instinctively.
At the end of the corridor, a boy in a black uniform was walking toward them at an unhurried pace.
He was not wearing the uniform of Rissaku High School.
His clothes belonged to Tokyo Jujutsu High.
The gold buttons on the dark jacket caught the morning light. His black hair framed a calm face. Hanafuda earrings swayed gently at his ears. Slung across his back was a long rectangular guitar case.
Yami.
He had come.
"Who the hell are you?" Sayama barked, releasing Junpei's collar and glaring at the newcomer. "What school are you from?"
Yami did not answer.
He did not even glance at Sayama.
His gaze passed straight through the three delinquents and landed on Junpei.
The moment he saw the scrape on the back of Junpei's hand, and the murderous intent almost spilling out of the boy's eyes, Yami's expression cooled.
"Looks like I made it in time."
His voice was soft, but it cut through the corridor with unsettling clarity.
Only then did he turn toward Sayama and the others.
"So this is what you call school?"
He looked at them calmly.
"Bullying the weak. Crushing someone's dignity just to satisfy your own pathetic vanity."
His eyes hardened.
"Disgusting."
"Huh?" Sayama's face twisted with rage. "Who do you think you are, barging in and preaching to us?"
He took a step forward, ready to swing.
Yami looked at him.
Just once.
Boom.
In Sayama's eyes, the world changed.
The boy standing in front of him was no longer just a transfer looking stranger in a black uniform.
He became something else.
A monster walking out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.
An overwhelming aura, sharp and scorching, swallowed him whole. In that instant, Sayama saw his own body chopped into countless pieces. He saw his flesh burned away. He saw his soul reduced to ash beneath a blazing sun.
That was no illusion born from imagination.
It was the pure oppressive force Yami had accumulated through slaughtering evil spirits again and again.
"Ugh... ah..."
Sayama's mouth opened, but only broken choking sounds came out.
His pupils shrank violently.
His body began to tremble.
And then warmth spread down his legs.
He pissed himself.
Nishimura and Honda did not even last that long.
Their eyes rolled back and they collapsed on the spot.
No blade was drawn.
No punch was thrown.
No threat was spoken.
Just one look.
And the once arrogant trio shattered completely.
The corridor fell silent.
The students who had been secretly watching from a distance were so horrified that none of them dared to breathe.
Then Yami withdrew his gaze.
The murderous pressure vanished as abruptly as it had appeared, as though nothing had happened at all.
He walked to Junpei, pulled a small bandage from his pocket, and carefully pressed it over the scrape on the back of his hand.
"It's alright," he said gently.
Junpei stared at him blankly.
"These kinds of people aren't worth dirtying your hands over."
Junpei looked from Yami to Sayama, who had collapsed in a puddle of his own urine, and something inside him finally broke free.
The darkness that had been piling up in his chest for years dissolved in that instant.
So they were this weak.
So all that fear, all that despair, all that humiliation, had only felt absolute because he had lacked the power to push back.
Justice really could arrive.
It just needed strength.
"Yami kun..."
Junpei's eyes reddened.
He lowered his head, his voice trembling but firm.
"I want to become stronger."
He clenched his fists.
"I want to become someone like you. Someone who can protect what matters."
Yami looked at him for a moment, then smiled, faint but sincere.
He reached out and lightly ruffled Junpei's hair.
"Alright."
"Then come with me."
"To a place where you can truly become stronger."
…
After school, Junpei brought Yami home.
The bullying issue had been resolved, but Junpei still could not stop worrying about his mother.
Mahito's appearance yesterday had left a knot of fear inside him. He wanted Yami to come with him, to look over the house, to make sure everything was safe.
The two of them stopped in front of the apartment door.
Then Yami's steps halted.
Junpei noticed at once.
"What is it?"
Yami's brows drew together. His gaze fixed on the tightly shut door.
"There's a cursed presence inside."
His voice turned cold in an instant.
"And not an ordinary one."
The scent was ancient.
Vile.
Heavy with malice.
It carried the unmistakable aura of Sukuna's finger.
Junpei's face drained of all color.
"Mom!"
He lunged for the door, his hands shaking so hard he almost dropped the keys.
Please.
Please let her be alright.
Please.
Just as the last of the darkness had begun to lift from his life, despair surged back up and tightened its grip around his heart once more.
.....
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