Miguel stood there, his gaze fixed on Rin's retreating back.
He wanted to say something more, to ask about Jujutsu High, about the future, but as the words reached his lips, his vision suddenly went black, and his body uncontrollably toppled forward, crashing heavily onto the cold floor.
He simply couldn't hold on any longer.
His battle with Gojo Satoru, even with the special grade cursed tool black rope to restrain him, had drained most of his Cursed Energy, and his wounds were deep enough to expose bone.
Afterwards, to wait for news of Geto Suguru and Rin, he refused treatment, enduring the pain to sit up for an entire night.
Coupled with the successive upheavals of Geto Suguru's death and the dissolution of the Star Plasma Cult, the double pressure on his mind and body finally broke this usually strong man.
Before his consciousness plunged into darkness, the last thing he saw was Rin's blurry figure turning and walking towards him.
When he woke up again, it was just dawn. The morning light pierced through a gap in the curtains, casting a slender beam onto the floor.
Miguel found himself lying in his familiar bedroom. The bandages on his body had been changed, a faint warmth emanated from his wounds, and the pain had almost completely vanished.
Such astonishing healing speed could only be attributed to Rin's Reverse Cursed Technique; there was no other possibility.
The entire Star Plasma Cult was empty, so quiet that he could hear his own heartbeat.
Miguel abruptly sat up, a strong sense of panic suddenly rising within him.
Negi and Manami had left without a word, Nanako and Mimiko were already gone, and he feared that Rin would also quietly depart, leaving behind only an empty mansion.
He stumbled out of the bedroom, running through the empty corridor, pushing open every door one by one.
The meeting room, the training ground, Geto Suguru's room, Rin's room... all were empty.
Miguel's heart beat faster and faster until he remembered the rooftop.
The moment he pushed open the rooftop door, his suspended heart finally settled.
Rin was sitting on the edge of the rooftop, his legs dangling, facing the cool morning breeze, tightly clutching an envelope in his hand.
It was the letter Geto Suguru had left for her, addressed "For Rin's Eyes Only."
The morning light fell upon him, outlining his thin silhouette, making him appear particularly solitary.
"Rin."
Miguel called out softly, his voice hoarse from just waking up, with a hint of undetectable relief.
Rin didn't turn around, only slightly tilted his face.
Just as Miguel stepped closer, a pale blue flame suddenly rose in his palm. The flame was small but intensely hot, instantly enveloping the unopened envelope.
The sizzling sound of paper burning was exceptionally clear on the quiet rooftop. Black ashes scattered with the morning breeze, falling onto the rooftop floor, quickly covered by the morning light.
Miguel's steps halted. He watched the flame extinguish in Rin's palm, watched the last bit of ash being blown away by the wind, his heart full of questions, yet he didn't ask.
Rin remained sitting on the edge of the rooftop, motionless, as if the act of burning the envelope just now was merely an unconscious habit.
His gaze was directed towards the horizon, where a red sun was slowly rising, its golden light piercing through the clouds, scattering over the empty Star Plasma Cult mansion, and also over his calm, unruffled face.
Miguel walked over to him and sat down beside him, following his gaze towards the sunrise. Only the sound of their breathing and the wind brushing past their ears remained on the rooftop.
"Why did you burn it?"
After a long pause, Miguel finally spoke softly, his tone devoid of blame, only pure curiosity.
Those were Geto Suguru's final words, the only written memento he left for Rin.
Rin's gaze didn't move, his voice as light as the wind:
"There's nothing worth keeping. What needs to be remembered, I've remembered; what needs to be done, I'm clear about."
His words held deep meaning, but Miguel didn't press him.
He knew that Rin harbored many things in his heart: Geto Suguru's entrustment, the decision to join Jujutsu High, and those unspoken plans.
Just like his act of burning the envelope, some things don't need to be written on paper; they only need to be etched in the heart.
Miguel's gaze fell on Rin's face, and his usually calm heartbeat suddenly skipped a beat.
In the morning light, Rin's profile remained expressionless, his lips even maintaining their previous gentle curve, yet two clear tears slowly slid down his cheeks, dripping onto the rooftop floor, spreading into a small wet mark.
Those tears were like a silent tide, hidden beneath his calm expression; only the endless sorrow swirling in his eyes betrayed the turmoil within.
Miguel's Adam's apple bobbed, and a sudden pang of bitterness arose in his heart.
How could he not be sad about Geto Suguru's death? The man who always smiled gently and protected everyone behind him was gone forever, just like that.
He raised his hand, wanting to pat Rin's shoulder, but feared breaking this fragile peace. In the end, he only offered a soft comfort:
"Don't be sad, Rin. It's all in the past now. We all knew this day would come sooner or later; it was only a matter of time."
Hearing this, Rin slowly looked up and let out a long sigh.
He raised his hand and wiped away the tears on his cheek with the back of his fingers, his movements very light, as if erasing some trace he didn't want others to see, forcibly suppressing the remaining dampness.
He shook his head, his voice slightly hoarse from crying:
"No, Miguel, I'm not sad because of Geto Suguru's departure."
He paused, his gaze returning to the red sun on the horizon, his tone acquiring a hint of relief:
"On the contrary, I'm happy for him.
He no longer has to bear those heavy responsibilities, no longer has to be entangled by ideals and guilt; he can finally rest well."
Miguel was stunned, then quickly nodded. He understood this feeling; Geto Suguru's death was a release for him, but those who lived on still had to bear the emptiness brought by this farewell.
Yet, confusion still lingered in his mind. If he wasn't sad for Geto Suguru, then where did the sorrow in Rin's eyes come from?
"If that's the case, then you..."
The words reached his lips, then stopped again, fearing that pressing further would touch upon a wound Rin didn't wish to mention.
Rin, however, saw through his confusion first, a bitter smile playing on his lips:
"Miguel, did you ever feel that I was a bit strange on the Shinjuku battlefield?"
Miguel lowered his head and thought for a moment, then nodded honestly:
"You did seem a bit strange.
At that time, we all thought that with so many Cursed Spirits, even if Geto Suguru couldn't defeat Okkotsu, he could at least retreat safely. You didn't need to risk your life to rush over.
I thought you were just too worried about him."
"I was worried about him."
Rin admitted, yet shook his head:
"But that worry wasn't enough to make me risk my life again and again, enduring the impact of Unlimited Void, interrupting and delaying Cursed Techniques to summon crows, and dragging half a life to find him... Even I think it was crazy when I recall these things afterwards."
Miguel's brows furrowed even tighter:
"Then what exactly were you fighting so desperately for?"
Rin lowered his head again, his gaze falling upon the empty Star Plasma Cult mansion below the rooftop.
The morning light shone on the deserted training ground, and the scenes of everyone training and laughing together in the past suddenly vividly appeared before his eyes.
His voice was as soft as a whisper, yet carried a heavy weight:
"On the way back, I kept thinking about this question.
It wasn't until just now, when I helped you back to your room and saw the empty corridor, that I finally understood."
He raised his hand, pointing to the silent mansion below, his gaze falling on Miguel's face, his tone as light as if speaking of an unimportant triviality, yet it made Miguel's heart sink sharply:
"I'm an orphan, Miguel."
"I knew that when I was very young."
Rin's voice gradually lowered, as if recalling a distant past:
"When school ended, other children had their parents pick them up, but I could only walk back to the orphanage by myself.
During parent-teacher conferences, other students were surrounded by their families, but I sat in the corner, looking at an empty chair.
Back then, I wished I could have a home, not necessarily big or rich, just a place where I could feel safe and where I felt like 'I belong here.'"
"I've hidden this wish in my heart for so long that I almost forgot it myself."
His fingertips trembled slightly:
"Coming here, to the Star Plasma Cult, I don't know when, but I gradually started to see this place as home.
Geto Suguru would listen to my strange ideas, Nanako and Mimiko would pull me to share snacks, you and Larue would help me correct my Cursed Technique during training... I didn't pay attention to these things at the time, but now that I think about it, they were all warmth I had never possessed before."
"It wasn't until just now, when I looked at the empty living room, the quiet bedroom, and all the lively scenes of the past were gone, that I suddenly understood.
I desperately sought out Geto Suguru, to ensure he lived, not because I couldn't accept his departure, but because I knew that as soon as he died, this place that gave me a sense of 'home' would directly collapse and disband."
There was a hint of an almost imperceptible choke in Rin's voice, and his eyes welled up again:
"I'm a very selfish person, Miguel.
I couldn't accept that the dream I had cherished for so many years would just shatter like that.
That's why I had to find him."
Miguel stood still, completely stunned.
He opened his mouth, but found himself unable to say anything.
He had never imagined that the always calm, even somewhat aloof Rin, harbored such an obsession with 'home' in his heart.
Those seemingly crazy actions, it turned out, all stemmed from an orphan's longing for warmth, a reluctance to let go of belonging.
The morning light gradually covered the entire rooftop, stretching their shadows longer.
Rin's tears began to fall again; this time, he didn't wipe them away.
Miguel finally reached out and gently patted his shoulder. The action was light, yet carried firm strength. He didn't know what comforting words to say, so he could only use this way to tell Rin that he wasn't alone.
The morning light had completely spread across the rooftop, and the golden rays illuminated the tear stains on Rin's cheeks with exceptional clarity.
He gazed at the empty Star Plasma Cult mansion below, at those once lively scenes.
Nanako and Mimiko's laughter, the shouts of everyone on the training ground, Geto Suguru's gentle admonitions.
Like faded film, they flashed rapidly through his mind, finally freezing into a profound silence.
...
Read more chapters at patreon.com/Zeaser