On this day, it just happened to be at the Fushiguro residence.
Yorozu was intensely urging Tsumiki within her consciousness.
"Right now! Tsumiki! He's out! Hurry! Take out that thing I secretly bought earlier! Go find him! Propose! Immediately! Right now!"
Yorozu's voice was so excited it felt like it was about to explode inside Tsumiki's mind.
Tsumiki Fushiguro, who was absentmindedly preparing dinner in the kitchen, felt her cheeks flush crimson instantly.
She herself harbored deep affection and admiration for that powerful, gentle, and heavy-past-burdened Toho Hiroshi, and being so bluntly encouraged by Yorozu, her heart was pounding like a deer in a headlight.
"Miss Yorozu... this, this is too sudden... and proposing or something..."
Tsumiki whispered a rebuttal in her consciousness, but her hand unconsciously reached for the small, exquisite velvet box in her pocket—inside were a pair of simple wedding bands purchased with money Yorozu had obtained through unknown channels.
"Sudden? What do you mean sudden! I've been waiting for a thousand years! If we don't hurry, what if that chain-smoking female doctor beats us to it again?! Go!"
Yorozu was practically roaring, even showing signs of forcibly taking over control of the body.
"Bang!" With a dull thud, Toji Fushiguro, who was stir-frying in the kitchen, expressionlessly slammed the wok onto the stove.
His hearing was far superior to that of an ordinary person. Although he couldn't hear the mental conversation, Tsumiki's distracted, blushing appearance, along with the faint, restless Cursed Energy belonging to that troublesome woman "Yorozu" in the air, allowed him to guess most of what was going on.
His face darkened instantly, and the low pressure radiating from him caused even the vegetables in the pan to wilt slightly.
"Hey, brat."
His voice was low, carrying an unquestionable warning, "Keep your head clear. Don't let some antique from a thousand years ago trick you into doing something stupid."
Tsumiki was startled, subconsciously clutching the ring box in her pocket, and stammered, "Da, Dad... I..."
"Don't pay attention to that old fart, hurry up and go!"
Yorozu urged her, then immediately seized control of her body and sprinted toward Jujutsu High.
Behind her, Toji Fushiguro's angry shouting echoed incessantly: "Hey! You old hag, who are you calling an old fart?"
...Meanwhile, over at the Jujutsu High courtyard, the atmosphere had originally been quite harmonious.
Toho Hiroshi was helplessly dealing with Satoru Gojo's wisecracks, while Suguru Geto watched from the side with a smile.
Students like Yuta Okkotsu and Yuji Itadori were also gathered around, talking about the changes over the past year.
Suddenly, Tsumiki Fushiguro came running over, panting, her face flushed with a strange blush and determination, her eyes fixed intently on Toho Hiroshi.
Amidst the surprised gazes of everyone, she took a deep breath, as if using all her strength, and shouted in a voice that trembled slightly but was exceptionally clear:
"Senior Toho! Please marry me!"
"Toho Hiroshi! Marry me!"
Two voices—one shy and clear belonging to Tsumiki, the other overbearing and fiery belonging to Yorozu—emerged simultaneously from the same mouth, forming an extremely bizarre duet.
"Pfft—!" Yuji Itadori spat out a mouthful of water.
Toge Inumaki: "Salmon roe! (Shocked)"
Panda covered his face: "Whoa..."
Yuta Okkotsu and Rika simultaneously wore dazed expressions.
Megumi Fushiguro instantly petrified, feeling as if he had entered the room in the wrong way.
Satoru Gojo was stunned at first, then burst into earth-shattering laughter: "Hahahaha! Toho! You guy! You come out after a year of confinement and get hit with a love calamity immediately! Hahaha!"
Suguru Geto couldn't help but laugh, covering his mouth with his hand, his shoulders shaking slightly.
Toho Hiroshi himself was completely dumbfounded. Looking at Tsumiki Fushiguro, who had grown into a mature woman with fiery yet shy eyes, he didn't know how to react for a moment.
However, this chaotic situation had only just begun.
Shoko Ieiri, who had been quietly smoking on the side and appearing indifferent, suddenly moved.
She stubbed out her cigarette in her portable ashtray, took a few steps forward, and before anyone could react, grabbed Toho Hiroshi by the wrist.
"Wait, Shoko, you..."
Toho Hiroshi looked at her in astonishment.
Shoko's face was expressionless, but her eyes carried a sense of desperate determination. She hoisted Toho Hiroshi onto her shoulder and turned to run down the mountain, leaving behind only one earth-shattering remark:
"I'm almost thirty! If I wait any longer, the soup will be cold! In terms of who came first, I should be the one to marry him!"
This time, even Satoru Gojo's laughter choked off.
The whole place was dead silent.
Yorozu and Tsumiki were the first to react. Watching Toho Hiroshi being dragged away by Shoko, that obsession spanning a thousand years erupted instantly.
"Don't even think about it!"
Yorozu's voice completely overwhelmed Tsumiki's consciousness. A powerful surge of Cursed Energy erupted from Tsumiki's body, and she (it) flashed, chasing after Shoko and Toho Hiroshi at an astonishing speed!
"Wait! Miss Yorozu! Miss Shoko! Senior toho!" Megumi Fushiguro finally recovered from his petrification, anxiously wanting to stop this farce, and rushed after them.
Satoru Gojo watched the group run off in an instant and laughed even more wildly, tears almost streaming down his face: "Hahahaha! A Shura field! It's a real, live Shura field! Geto! Let's follow them and watch the fun!"
Suguru Geto sighed helplessly, but his feet followed Satoru Gojo's pace quite honestly.
Only the students like Yuta Okkotsu and Yuji Itadori remained, looking at each other in confusion, left in the wind.
Back in the distant Fushiguro kitchen, Toji Fushiguro listened to the faint commotion coming from the distance and his son's anxious shouting, his face already as dark as the bottom of a pot.
He silently dumped the vegetables from the wok into the trash can, then picked up the special grade cursed tool, the Inverted Spear of Heaven, leaning against the wall, his body radiating tangible killing intent.
"Toho Hiroshi... why didn't you just stay locked up until you died!"
...A month later, in Tokyo, a highly anticipated yet slightly peculiar wedding was quietly held.
It was peculiar because there was only one groom, while the brides... were two in one sense, and three in another.
In certain ancient families and specific circles of the Jujutsu World, polygamy was not a taboo, especially when it involved the continuation of powerful bloodlines or special contracts.
The marriage of Toho Hiroshi, Shoko, and Tsumiki Fushiguro, who carried the soul of Yorozu, finally received formal recognition after Satoru Gojo's "friendly coordination" and Toji Fushiguro's reluctant acquiescence, following the joint persuasion of Megumi Fushiguro and Tsumiki.
The wedding did not choose a traditional church or Shinto ceremony, but was held in a quiet Japanese-style garden shrouded by a Barrier.
The ceremony simplified many secular steps, focusing more on confirming their bonds with each other.
Toho Hiroshi wore a well-pressed black montsuki haori hakama, his expression carrying a lingering hint of exhaustion, but more so a calmness as if dust had settled, along with a touch of helplessness and tenderness deep in his eyes.
Beside him stood two brides dressed in shiromuku.
Shoko Ieiri's shiromuku was worn casually yet remained solemn; her face beneath the veil still carried a faint laziness, but her eyes were exceptionally clear and firm.
She was even rarely seen without a cigarette in her hand, though her fingertips occasionally rubbed together unconsciously, showing that her heart was not entirely without ripples.
On the other side was Tsumiki Fushiguro.
The pure white shiromuku complemented her gentle temperament; she slightly lowered her head, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes were filled with longing for the future and a hint of unease.
However, occasionally when she looked up, her eyes would instantly become sharp and fiery—that was Yorozu looking at her groom through her eyes, the gaze containing an obsession and determination spanning a thousand years.
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