Morning light stabbed Rome's eyes like an assassin's knife. He gasped awake, heart hammering against his ribs as fragments of a nightmare crumbled away in his consciousness.
Something wet trickled down his face.
Rome touched his cheek. Tears. Actual fucking tears.
"What the hell?" he whispered, wiping them away furiously with the back of his hand.
The dream was already fading, but the hollow ache in his chest remained, familiar and unwelcome. A ghost of his mother's smile. The gleam of a blade. Blood on the walls. Rome sat up and slapped his own face hard enough to sting.
Get it together. Crying in your sleep? What are you, five?
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, fighting the urge to check if his headband had slipped off during the night. The scar underneath never changed, but he touched it compulsively anyway, a ritual that had followed him since childhood.
BOOM-KAT-BOOM-BOOM-KAT.
Someone was using his door as a makeshift drum kit. Rome stared at the door, wondering if he'd hallucinated the sound.
BOOM-KAT-BOOM-BOOM-KAT.
Nope. Someone was actually beatboxing on his goddamn door at—Rome checked his phone—11:45 in the morning.
"What the fu—"
SMACK!
"OW! Fushiguro, what the hell?" A voice yelped from the hallway.
"Don't be annoying, Itadori," a second voice replied, flat and unimpressed. "Let him wake up."
"But Ijichi said that Gojo said we need to be there by 1, and it's already 11:45!" the first voice argued.
Rome sighed, running a hand through his hair.
Nothing says 'welcome to your new home' like strangers playing percussion on your door before noon.
He pulled himself up, not bothering with a shirt, and yanked the door open with more force than necessary.
A pink-haired guy stood with his fist raised mid-knock, eyes wide with surprise. Behind him loomed a slightly taller boy with dark, spiky hair that looked like he'd stuck his finger in an electrical socket. Both wore the same navy-blue uniform Rome had seen hanging in his room except the pink guy had a red hood attached.
The pink-haired one recovered first, his face splitting into a smile so genuine it was almost painful to look at.
"HEY! I'm Yuji Itadori! I'm into girls like Jennifer Lawrence! Nice to meet you!"
Rome blinked. That was... a lot of information at once.
The dark-haired guy behind him looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. "You're late," he said simply, his eyes giving Rome a critical once-over.
Rome leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "Nobody gave me an itinerary, Sea Urchin."
The dark-haired guy's expression didn't change, but Rome could have sworn he saw a vein pulse in his forehead.
Yuji laughed, extending his hand for a greeting. "That's Megumi Fushiguro. Don't mind him, he's always like that."
There was something refreshingly straightforward about Yuji that Rome couldn't help but appreciate. Rome clasped Yuji's hand and gave him a proper dap.
"Name's Rome Hoshino," he said, returning Yuji's grin with a smaller one of his own.
"So what's your type?" Yuji asked eagerly, mimicking his own introduction.
Rome considered the question, leaning more comfortably against the doorframe. "Hmm... my type. I like sexy women with a bit of spunk and fever at first..."
He paused, his voice dropping slightly. "...but they have to be soft and needy in private. I like being the one they rely on."
His smile returned full force. "Also, gotta have a big ass. Non-negotiable."
Yuji nodded solemnly, as if Rome had just imparted ancient wisdom. "Respectable. Very respectable."
Megumi rolled his eyes so hard Rome was surprised they didn't fall out of his head.
"Anyways, my bad for oversleeping," Rome said, glancing back at his rumpled bed. "Got in late. Give me five."
"We'll wait downstairs," Megumi said, already turning away. "Don't make us late."
"You got it, Sea Urchin," Rome called after him, smirking when Megumi's shoulders tensed.
Back in his room, Rome moved quickly.
He started with cologne, an expensive brand lifted from a store in Shinjuku, dabbing it on his neck and wrists.
His diamond stud earrings, a gift from Hakari, went in next. He slipped the silver chain over his head, the obsidian rings resting cold against his chest.
Before touching the uniform, he paused at the white gauze headband, meeting his own ruby-red eyes in the mirror and carefully wrapping the scar beneath.
Finally, he turned to the uniform.
"Time to look the part, I guess," he muttered, pulling on the navy pants. They were too tight around his thighs—built for skinny academics, not fighters. He'd need to modify them later.
The jacket at least had some style, with its high collar and asymmetrical design. Rome left the top buttons undone, showing a hint of the chain around his neck. He gave himself a final once-over in the mirror.
Not bad. Kind of looks like I'm in a K-pop group that specializes in exorcisms.
Satisfied, he headed downstairs to the common area where Yuji and Megumi waited. Yuji was bouncing on his toes, brimming with energy, while Megumi leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, the dictionary definition of "too cool for this."
A third person stood nervously by the door—a wirey man with glasses who kept checking his watch and adjusting his tie.
"Where's Gojo?" Rome asked, looking around for the white-haired menace.
The nervous man jumped slightly at being addressed. "Ah, Gojo-san had an... important meeting. He said he will meet us at the rendezvous point later. I'm Kiyotaka Ijichi, assistant director of Tokyo Jujutsu College."
Ijichi bowed slightly, then straightened his glasses again.
Huh. Seems even the 'Strongest' has obligations. "Alright. Let's go."
Rome braced himself for the mountain of stairs he'd climbed the night before, mentally preparing for the workout. But instead of heading toward the main entrance, Ijichi led them through a side door.
They followed a flat, neatly paved path that curved around the side of the building. It opened up to reveal a private road where a comfortable-looking minibus sat waiting, engine running, air conditioning visibly cooling the interior.
Rome stopped dead in his tracks.
Wait. Wait just a goddamn minute.
He looked at the bus. He looked at the winding private road that clearly went all the way down the mountain.
A memory flashed in his mind: Gojo sprinting up those endless stairs last night, calling over his shoulder, "Cardio is part of the curriculum! Chop chop!"
Rome's eye twitched involuntarily.
"So... there was a driveway. The whole time."
"Obviously," Megumi replied, already moving toward the bus. "How else do we get supplies up here?"
Rome's fingers curled into fists at his sides as he imagined wrapping them around Gojo's throat. "I'm going to kill him. I am actually going to murder the strongest sorcerer alive."
"Shotgun!" Yuji yelled, racing past them toward the front passenger seat.
Ijichi gave Rome an apologetic smile. "Gojo-san does enjoy his... little jokes."
"I'm laughing so hard," Rome said flatly, following the others to the bus.
Inside, the bus was comfortable and modern, with plush seats and working air conditioning. Rome slumped into a seat toward the back, leaning his head against the cool window. Megumi sat across the aisle, pulling out a book and immediately ignoring everyone. Yuji secured his prized shotgun seat and immediately began chatting with Ijichi about breakfast options on campus.
As the bus started down the mountain road, Rome closed his eyes and tried to recenter himself. New school. New people. New life. For four years, at least.
The dream lingered at the edges of his mind, that hollow ache refusing to fade completely. He pushed it down, buried it under layers of anger and determination. Tears were a luxury he couldn't afford, not when he had a killer to find.
"Hey, Rome!" Yuji called from the front, twisting around in his seat. "Ijichi says we're picking up some other first years. Do you think they'll be cool?"
Rome opened one eye. "Define 'cool.'"
"You know, like, good fighters! People we can train with!"
"I don't care if they're cool," Rome replied. "I care if they're strong. No point training with weaklings."
Megumi looked up from his book. "The only weakling I see is the one who overslept on his first day."
"Bold words for a guy with a electric shock haircut," Rome shot back.
Yuji burst out laughing. "He's got you there, Fushiguro!"
Megumi returned to his book without another word, but Rome didn't miss the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. Maybe almost a smile? Probably a grimace.
The bus wound its way down the mountain, leaving the hidden campus behind. Tokyo sprawled below them, a concrete jungle where Rome had spent most of his life fighting to survive. Now he was heading back into it, but with a different purpose.
Rome's fingers found the rings on his chain, rubbing the smooth obsidian surfaces thoughtfully.
Mom, Dad... I'm getting closer. I promise.