Since the investigation began, it had rained incessantly in Kyoto. A thin, relentless drizzle soaked every eave and corner. The sun had vanished, replaced by a sky that—even without thunderheads—remained a dull, claustrophobic grey, as if the world were viewed through a layer of grimy gauze.
Below the mountain, the rice paddies were drowning. Dead wheat rotted in stagnant puddles, their stalks snapped and submerged. The once-vast sea of gold was now a landscape of blackened pits, looking like the ugly, pitted scars on a diseased face.
Perhaps the rain was watering the people's emotions as well, allowing damp fungi to flourish in the dark corners of their minds.
The search for the origin of the curse continued.
Day One: No results. Two blocks cleared. The quarantine line was pushed back two kilometers. The sorcerers worked themselves to the bone; Kira Nanami clocked out at 8:00 PM and went home. No one had the authority to stop him.
Day Two: Still nothing. Kira went home at 8:00 PM.
Day Three: Three violent Jujutsu terror attacks struck the city. One was intercepted; the enemy retreated, leaving behind two Grade 2 corpses, but three Kyoto students were killed. The other two attacks were instantaneous; by the time reinforcements arrived, the perpetrators were gone. The government officially blamed gas leaks. Kira went home on time.
Day Four: A wave of serial murders and bombings swept through Kyoto. Investigations revealed they were committed by ordinary citizens, not sorcerers. The suicide rate hit a record high; nearly a hundred people leapt from rooftops in a single day. Cases appeared in the previously "safe" Ukyo Ward, signaling the curse's total expansion. Kira went home at 8:00 PM.
Day Five: An account named "Taiko" (Fetal Light) posted a video on LINE: the decapitation of a Kyoto police officer in a dark room. It caused a social firestorm before being scrubbed, but copies proliferated across the Dark Web. A riot of thousands broke out in the streets, clashing with police who eventually opened fire. Seven murders. A hundred and fifty suicides. Kira Nanami clocked out precisely at 8:00 PM.
...
Day Eight: Jujutsu experts, analyzing the lingering traces of Sukuna's Cursed Energy, reached a conclusion: the curse was a viral strain fueled by the Finger and the caster's own energy. Calculations suggested it would last ten days before the caster's reserves ran dry. If Kira's theory held, and a Cursed Spirit had been absorbing a city's worth of terror for ten days and nights... it would be a second Sukuna.
Two Grade 2 sorcerers committed suicide that day. The school realized the curse was rotting their own minds, but it was too late. Despair had set in. A group of sorcerers confronted Kira, screaming at him for his perceived apathy. Kira's only response was, "I'm just an employee," before walking away at 8:00 PM.
Day Nine: No results.
Today.
Kira Nanami opened his eyes.
He turned his head to look at the gloom outside. The rain hadn't stopped; it had been a soft, persistent pitter-patter all through the night. The air was so humid that a thin layer of moss had begun to sprout on the walls of his apartment.
"It's time," he whispered to the dim ceiling.
"It's time. You can't hold it in anymore. Today, we settle this."
Kira didn't specify who he was talking to.
He sat up and put on a brand-new shirt. Because of the constant rain, his laundry refused to dry, so he had simply bought a new one. The fresh fabric gave him a sense of renewal, as if shedding his old clothes was a final farewell to the past week.
The sorcerers of the investigation team were frantic, like people who couldn't find clean underwear on New Year's morning. Kira, by contrast, was serene.
How to describe it? He felt like someone who wakes up on New Year's and decides to go commando—a terrifying, liberated lightness.
Regardless of the outcome, everything would be decided today.
6:50 AM.
He finished his morning routine, tied his bowtie, and tucked a clean handkerchief into his pocket. He took a brush and scrubbed the layer of fungal growth off his wall. Then, he answered the phone on the table.
"Kira-kun, we found it. Red-Light District, Second Street," Miwa Kasumi's voice shook on the other end.
"Mhm."
He gave a casual response, set down the brush, and washed his hands thoroughly. He wiped them dry.
In the mirror, his face was unnervingly calm.
For the first time in a long time, Kira left his apartment early. Usually, he walked out at 7:00 AM sharp. Before leaving, he shut off the water, gas, and electricity. He left the rent money on the table. He pulled the door shut and made sure to lock it.
Click.
As the lock engaged, Kira took one last look at the hallway and turned toward the stairs. He looked less like a man heading into a warzone and more like a man leaving for a vacation.
The people he saw on the street looked "normal." They were chatting and laughing. But Kira saw the hollow void behind their smiles—the rictus of a clown in a cheap costume. He knew from his psychology studies: when a person decides to end it all, they often appear more "normal" than anyone else.
A black modified sedan was waiting at the curb. The window rolled down to reveal Todo.
They were to regroup at the school before heading to the target.
Unlike the previous days, the school was emptying its armory. Aside from Principal Gakuganji, who stayed to guard the grounds, every combatant was mobilized. Senior sorcerers had been called in from Tokyo.
Unfortunately, Okkotsu was overseas, and Satoru Gojo was—as usual—off the grid. No Special Grades were coming.
The force consisted of ten Grade 1s, twenty Grade 2s, and over fifty Grade 3s.
The air was thick with the smell of blade oil and rain. Men and women checked their cursed tools in silence, staring ahead with grim eyes. Half of the Jujutsu world's power was gathered here—a thunderous wrath ready to break the ten days of stagnation.
Like a forest fire that leaves only ash, like a flood that scours the earth, the lightning hidden in the clouds was about to strike.
Kira watched the headlights cutting through the rainy night as the convoy departed the school. Dozens of engines roared, making the earth tremble. They moved like a river flowing toward the sea, like dozens of blades piercing the dark.
"Todo," Kira called out to the driver.
"What is it?"
"I have a secret mission for you."
This was the lynchpin of Kira's plan.