The cold of December had settled heavy over Tokyo, blanketing the city in a gray hush.
The streets were quieter than usual, though under that stillness, the air hummed with something darker, anticipation, fear, and the faint traces of cursed energy that seemed to snake into every corner.
Both Tokyo and Kyoto Jujutsu Highs had been mobilized.
Sorcerers were scattered across districts, positioned to intercept the inevitable storm Suguru Geto had promised.
Patrols shifted like shadows, barriers were strengthened, and students were grouped under instructors, each ready to face the worst.
Among them all, one man carried a tension that felt almost unnatural, Satoru Gojo.
He stood near some apartments, his tall figure cutting sharp lines against the pale winter sky, the white bandages covering his eyes stark against his loose coat.
But his unease had nothing to do with the curses they were about to face.
Gojo wasn't tense from fear, fear was something he had long forgotten.
No, it was something else, something buried in Geto's words during their last encounter.
'A gift.'
That was what Geto had said.
And Gojo, despite himself, could only think of one name.
Roy.
The boy he had once trained, once thrown into the fire of battle, once laughed and eaten burgers with.
A boy who had disappeared four years ago into Geto's shadow.
Gojo wasn't sure who, or what he'd meet if Geto's "gift" truly was him.
"Gojo."
The voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
Principal Yaga stepped up beside him, his broad frame steady, his expression unreadable.
The older man crossed his arms, watching the younger sorcerers gather their resolve.
"You should focus on the situation at hand,"
Yaga said firmly.
"Not on ghosts from the past."
Gojo let out a long sigh, tilting his head back.
His lips curled into that usual careless smile, though the lines of tension at the edge of his mouth betrayed him.
"Yeah, yeah. I know, Principal,"
He said, laughter lacing his words as if nothing troubled him.
"Don't worry. Everything will end up fine. I mean, when has it not, with me around?"
Yaga didn't answer.
He just gave Gojo a long, steady look before turning back to direct the students.
It was then the first crash shook the city.
A thunderous boom split the silence, from the distance, a wave of curses surged forward, spilling into the city like ink seeping into water.
Sorcerers immediately leapt into action, students bracing themselves as the battlefield unfolded around them.
But before the first groups could even move three steps, more curses materialized, twice, three times as many as before.
Tokyo and Kyoto both shuddered under the weight of the assault.
The war had begun.
---
Far from the chaos, in the heart of a hidden refuge, Suguru Geto stood calmly before his "family."
The room smelled faintly of incense, of old wood and warmth, a sharp contrast to the violence about to engulf the city.
His followers gathered, each carrying their own kind of resolve.
The two young girls he had once saved stood quietly near the back, their eyes no longer those of children but of hardened sorcerers.
The others, seasoned curse users and misfits who had sworn loyalty to Geto, waited for his words.
Geto's voice was smooth, almost fatherly.
"Be careful. All of you. Do not underestimate the sorcerers. And above all stick to the plan."
He gave out final instructions, dividing tasks with precision.
Then, at the very end, his gaze shifted toward the crimson haired figure leaning casually against the wall.
"Roy,"
He said, his tone different, lighter, but edged with expectation.
"Your job is the most straightforward."
The air seemed to thicken around them.
"To fight Satoru Gojo. And stall him."
The others glanced toward Roy, the weight of that order not lost on them.
Gojo Satoru was a name spoken with equal parts awe and dread.
To stall him was something only a monster could attempt.
Roy's lips curved into a faint smile, his scarlet eyes flickering with something unreadable.
His chains rattled softly as he straightened from the wall, his tall frame casting a shadow across the floor.
"So, that's it?"
He asked, voice carrying a dry humor.
"I get the easy job?"
Geto's brow twitched at the remark, though there was amusement in his eyes.
He knew Roy was dangerous, stronger than most could even comprehend, yet even now he didn't believe anyone, not even Roy could defeat Gojo outright.
Roy caught that thought instantly.
His smile deepened, sharp at the edges.
"You don't think I can win."
Geto tilted his head.
"I think your role is clear."
"Mm."
Roy chuckled low, almost to himself.
"Sure. I'll play along. But don't expect things to go the way you think."
Geto's gaze narrowed ever so slightly, playful curiosity flickering behind it.
"Oh? And what exactly does that mean?"
Roy's crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dim light.
He turned, stepping past Geto with a soft clink of his chains.
"Just stay alive long enough to hear the news."
For a heartbeat, silence hung between them, two forces walking a thin line between allies and something more volatile.
Then Geto laughed, smooth and rich, as if nothing in the world could shake him.
"Very well. Surprise me, Roy."
And with that, the pieces of their war began to fall into place.