Tokyo Jujutsu High was quieter than usual, but everyone could feel the shift in the air the moment
Suguru Geto stepped onto the grounds with his family.
His presence radiated arrogance, the easy, steady stride of a man utterly confident in his vision.
Around him, his followers carried themselves with conviction, unwavering, loyal.
The students were there to witness it, Maki, her hand tightening unconsciously on the weapon strapped to her back.
Panda standing protectively in front, Toge tilting his head ever so slightly, a warning hum rising in his throat, and Yuta, wide eyed, still too new to the world of curses to grasp the weight of the man standing before them.
At their head stood Gojo.
Blindfolded, smiling faintly, but utterly focused.
His Six Eyes peeled into every detail, cursed energy flow, muscle tension, intention.
The unspoken current between him and Geto was suffocating, an echo of their shared past pressing into the silence.
Geto spoke first, his voice calm and polished.
"Let's not drag this out too long. I came here today only to deliver a message. On Christmas Eve,
Tokyo will burn. I will eradicate every single non sorcerer."
The students stiffened at the declaration.
Yuta's fists clenched, his voice caught in his throat.
Maki narrowed her eyes.
Panda let out a low growl.
Toge muttered a sharp
"Kelp."
But Gojo's smile didn't falter, though his hand flexed once at his side.
"Christmas Eve, huh? You always did like making an entrance, Suguru."
Geto's smirk curved wider.
His eyes, however, never left Gojo.
"I hope you'll look forward to it, Satoru. After all…"
He paused deliberately, a shadow of amusement in his tone,
"…I've prepared a gift just for you."
Gojo's Six Eyes flickered sharply.
His chest tightened, though his expression betrayed nothing.
A gift? The possibilities unfurled instantly, his mind racing.
There was only one possibility that struck him like a blade, Roy.
The boy who vanished four years ago.
The boy he had failed to protect.
The boy who, if Geto's words meant what he thought they did, had been forged into something else entirely.
"…Roy,"
Gojo muttered under his breath, unheard by the students but sharp enough that Geto's smirk deepened.
Gojo took a single step forward, his tone deceptively casual but edged with steel.
"Where is he, Suguru?"
Geto tilted his head, eyes glinting.
"Patience, Satoru. You'll see soon enough."
His coat swayed as he turned, signaling his family to follow.
"On Christmas Eve, all will be clear."
He left without another word, his followers moving with practiced unity.
The silence he left behind weighed heavily on the courtyard.
Gojo's blindfold tilted toward the departing figures, his thoughts locked on Geto's cryptic promise.
His gut, his eyes, his instincts, everything screamed the same truth.
Roy.
He's alive.
But the question that burned deeper was harsher, heavier.
'What has Geto done to him?'
Gojo forced his usual smirk back onto his lips, though it felt hollow.
He finally answered for the students.
"That was Suguru Geto. And he's planning something very, very stupid."
The students traded uneasy glances, their nerves stretched taut.
None of them realized the true storm about to hit.
Gojo, however, felt it like a blade hovering over his throat.
Geto's words weren't empty threats, they were a promise.
And somewhere behind them was Roy, hidden, waiting, transformed into a "gift" meant just for him.