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Back inside the protective wards, Maki sat near Yuta, who was calmly polishing the edge of his katana. The air between them held a strange quiet. Not awkward, but heavy with things left unsaid.
"You know they're after you," She said.
Yuta nodded. "I'm aware."
"You're still too soft."
He gave a small smile. "Is that⊠concern I hear?"
Maki scowled. "Don't make me regret agreeing to watch over you."
Yuta paused, then glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "I don't think anyone forced you to stay."
Maki didn't respond right away. Her thoughts driftedâimages of Liam's teasing smile, of the words he whispered to her and Mai, of the promise they both made.
Live. No matter what. Protect what you have.
"I'm just keeping my promise to someone," She muttered.
Yuta blinked. "Liam?"
A faint blush crept up Maki's cheek, though her expression remained unchanged. "Shut up."
Yuta didn't push, but he understood. Liam had become something to many of them. A strange figure who didn't belong in their world but had somehow anchored himself in it. A man surrounded by mystery, flirtation, charm, and undeniable strength.
If he had asked her to fight beside him, she would have. But he asked her to stay. To protect. So here she was.
Outside the school, the final preparations continued. Talismans were scattered across rooftops, binding spells layered in complex formations. Cursed tools were being distributed like military gear.
The sun had fully disappeared now, and the sky had turned a dusky purple. Somewhere far off, thunder rumbled. Or maybe it wasn't thunder.
Back near the city edge, Nanami walked alone, his watch glinting in the moonlight.
"I hate overtime," He muttered as a group of low-level cursed spirits emerged from a sewer grate.
He adjusted his glasses with calm precision, reaching for his blade. "Let's get this over with."
The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons was coming.
------
The city below lay cloaked in a deceptive calm.
Dark clouds loomed over Tokyo, thick with cursed energy, like a gathering of ancient gods awaiting sacrifice.
From his perch atop a towering skyscraper that pierced the clouds, Gojo Satoru stood like a sentinel, untouchable and alone, his silhouette bathed in the dying red of twilight.
The December wind howled at him like a ghost denied warmth, tugging playfully at his snow-white hair and the hem of his long indigo coat.
The chill in the air wasn't from winterâit came from the tension twisting reality itself.
He stood casually, arms folded, one foot perched on the steel railing, gazing into the horizon painted in hues of blood and dusk.
A city on the edge of something terrible. The cursed energy in the air was thick, coiling like serpents, rippling like heat haze.
The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons was moments from starting.
Gojo hummed softly, eyes hidden behind his blindfold, lips curled in anticipation. The tension in the air tasted sweet, like the few seconds before the lightning hits. His lips curved into a grin beneath his blindfold.
"What a beautiful night for chaos," He murmured, voice light but laced with wicked delight.
Bzzt!
His phone buzzed against his coat pocket. He glanced at it, and the grin sharpened like a blade.
Liam Nakamura.
With a flick of his thumb, Gojo answered, bringing the device to his ear with theatrical grace.
"Well, well, if it isn't our little devil calling on Christmas Eve," He sang, voice velvety with mischief. "Miss me already, Liam?"
On the other end, a smooth, deep voice spokeâvelvety as midnight silk, but carrying the quiet authority of a king unbothered by bloodshed.
"Should I interfere and lend a hand, oh Great Sorcerer?" Liam asked lazily, as if inquiring about the weather rather than the impending siege of Tokyo.
Gojo let out a laughâpure, amused, and utterly unshaken.
"If you're offering, I won't say no. With you around, we could wrap this whole parade up before dessert."
A soft chuckle responded. "So, where do you want me to start? Who do I kill first?"
The way Liam asked the questionâso calm, so detachedâit made even Gojo pause for a beat.
Not from fear, but from appreciation.Â
Gojo's grin returned, wide and wolfish. "The cursed spirits are coming in waves, thousands strong. I want you to reduce their numbersâthin the herd. You know how it is⊠not enough soldiers for the war."
There was silence.
Then Liam's tone shiftedâstill smooth, but with the coldness of steel just drawn from its sheath.
"You really want to toss the kid into this mess?" He asked, low, almost accusing. "Don't tell me this whole damn parade is your way of pushing him to awaken. You're still the same bastard as always, Gojo."
Gojo tilted his head back, staring into the crimson sky. High above, a plane blinked across the heavens, blissfully unaware of the nightmare unraveling beneath it.
"You're not wrong," He said simply. No shame. No apology. "He needs to be pushed. He has to awaken. We don't have the luxury of time anymore, Liam. If he can't stand on his own in a world like thisâŠ"
There was a long pause before he finished. "He'll be crushed."
There was venom in Liam's voice now, quiet but unmistakable. "You're gambling with a child's life."
"And yetâŠ" Gojo murmured, his voice softer now, like a lullaby spoken beside a coffin, "It's the only way he'll survive the world that's coming. You know that better than anyone."
Liam leaned back in his spot, surrounded by silence.
The city's distant lights flickered in the glass behind him, distorted by darkness.
"âŠTch. You really know how to piss me off."
Gojo chuckled. "One of my many talents."
Liam rose slowly, as if waking from a dream of violence. His voice lost some of its edge but remained firm, commanding. "Fine. I'll lend a hand. I'll clean up the mess you left behind. But I'll be watching the kid closely. If things go south, I'm dragging him outâwhether you like it or not."
Gojo's smirk softened, becoming something strange⊠almost fond. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
Liam's parting words were a promise wrapped in a threat. "One of these days, I might actually snap your neck. Just for fun."
"Make sure I look good in the obituary," Gojo quipped.
Click!
The call ended.
For a long moment, Gojo simply stood there, phone still in hand, as the wind howled louder, like the city itself was crying out in warning. He slipped the phone into his pocket with a soft chuckle, head bowed.
"Always pretending to be detached," He murmured, almost to himself. "But deep down⊠you care more than anyone."
His smile returned, wider now, lined with danger.
"And that's what makes you dangerous, Liam Nakamura."
He turned back toward the city's edge, where the cursed spirits were already gathering like ink spilled across the night sky, writhing in hunger and hatred. Like a flood of shadows ready to drown the world.
The Night Parade had begun.
--- ⊠⊠⊠---
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