POV: Rumi
The drive home felt shorter than usual.
Maybe because exhaustion weighed on all of us—the kind that settled deep into the bones. Fighting demons and then going straight into a full concert… even being empowered by the Honmoon couldn't completely erase that kind of fatigue.
Across from me, Zoey was asleep, her head resting on Mira's shoulder. Both of them looked worn out, but happy—the kind of happiness that only comes after surviving something together. I watched them quietly, my thoughts drifting elsewhere.
One more song, I thought. Just one more… and the Honmoon will finally turn golden.
No more marks carved into my skin. No more half-truths. No more pretending—especially not with the girls.
"I just hope you can wait a little longer," I thought quietly, the words meant for someone who wasn't there. "Then I'll finally be one hundred per cent with you."
The sight of our house coming into view pulled me out of my thoughts.
Home.
No—not yet. Not really.
I gently woke Mira and Zoey. They groaned, half-asleep and grumpy, but understanding. None of us complained. We were too tired for that.
We parked and stepped into the elevator. The ride to our top-floor apartment would take a while, so the girls leaned against the walls, stealing a few more moments of rest.
Honestly, none of us were particularly concerned about meeting our new bodyguard.
We were exhausted. Too exhausted to care.
That was our mistake.
The moment the elevator doors opened, all three of us froze.
A pressure slammed into us.
Not hostile—but overwhelming.
My breath caught as instinct screamed at me to run.
This aura… it wasn't just strong. It existed on an entirely different level from anything we had ever faced. Compared to this, even the strongest demons we'd fought felt insignificant.
It was like comparing a coughing baby to a nuclear explosion.
We exchanged glances, then moved cautiously into the apartment.
And that's when we saw him.
A tall, broad-shouldered man with pink hair stood casually beside Celine, chatting as if nothing was wrong—as if he wasn't flooding the entire space with that terrifying presence.
As if he had no idea what kind of pressure he was creating.
"Rumi! Mira! Zoey!" Celine greeted us warmly. "It's so good to see you again, girls. We watched the concert—it was amazing!"
"Hi, Celine," I said, forcing a smile. "Thank you. We worked really hard for it."My gaze flicked to the pink-haired man. "But… do you mind introducing our guest?"
"Of course," Celine said brightly. "This is your new bodyguard—Yuji Itadori. He's currently the strongest human alive in the world and will be protecting you for the time being."
Mira raised an eyebrow immediately.
"Strongest?" she repeated. "How much stronger are we talking? And do we really need protection? I think we've been doing pretty well so far."
Yuji scratched the back of his head, looking almost embarrassed.
"I don't want to sound arrogant," he said calmly, "but if we're comparing… the demons you've been fighting would be around Grade 3. Maybe Grade 2."
My stomach tightened.
"The Demon King," he continued, "would only be around Grade 1 or a low Special Grade. And even then, you can only seal him. Not kill him."
I met his eyes.
"Are you implying," I asked carefully, "that you could kill him?"
"He wouldn't be a problem," Yuji replied. "What I'm protecting you from are other Special Grades. They aren't affected by the Honmoon—and they can unleash their full strength here on Earth."
Celine nodded. "If you want a clearer comparison, Yuji defeated the King of Curses with the help of his friends. At his prime, that curse had killed hundreds—if not thousands—of demon kings stronger than Gwi-Ma."
The room fell silent.
Zoey broke it first.
"Thousands?!" she squeaked. "Yeah… remind me not to piss him off."
Stronger than Gwi-Ma…
The fact that someone like that was defeated—not sealed—was outrageous in itself. But the idea that there wasn't just one… that there were thousands?
My chest tightened.
What would happen if we ever had to fight a horde of demons commanded by thousands of demon kings?
The image formed too easily—cities drowning in darkness, the Honmoon strained to its limit, hunters falling one by one. The thought left a cold, heavy feeling in my stomach.
Then another realisation hit me.
"There were no hunters back then," I said slowly. "So how did demons not take over the Earth?"
I couldn't stop myself from asking.
Celine turned toward me, her expression serious as the others fell silent. Mira and Zoey had clearly been forming their own theories, but one by one, they looked back at Celine, waiting for her answer.
"Demons have existed for a very long time," Celine began. "But for most of human history, jujutsu sorcerers were the strongest line of resistance against them."
She paused, choosing her words carefully.
"Later on, one of those jujutsu sorcerers used his innate technique to create a massive barrier against demons. However, he was not immortal. Near the end of his life, he made what they call a binding vow—placing a fragment of his soul into the barrier itself."
A strange chill ran down my spine.
"That barrier continued to function using cursed energy supplied by jujutsu sorcerers who possessed the same barrier-based innate technique," she continued. "But centuries passed… and eventually, there were no blood-related sorcerers left who carried that technique."
Zoey swallowed quietly.
"With no one left to sustain it," Celine said, "the fragment of that sorcerer's soul merged more deeply with the barrier. Over time, it evolved into something new."
Her gaze settled on me.
"That evolution is what we now know as the Honmoon."
I clenched my fists without realising it.
Something ancient.Something born from sacrifice.Something that had chosen us.
And suddenly, the weight I carried didn't feel metaphorical anymore.
It felt very, very real.
Silence stretched on as the truth settled into us.
Even Mira couldn't keep her perfectly controlled expression, her jaw tightening just enough to betray her. Zoey's usual bubbly warmth faded, leaving behind something far quieter, far heavier. I felt it too—that familiar stone pressing against my chest.
We had always borne this burden side by side. Always accepted it as the price of standing between humanity and destruction.
But now it felt heavier.
Not just because of what we had learned—but because somewhere in the past, someone had chosen to give up everything so we could even have the chance to fight.
We exchanged glances, searching for something to say.
Then Yuji spoke.
He didn't step closer. Didn't raise his voice.
He simply looked at us—his expression caught somewhere between understanding and empathy, like this wasn't a story he'd heard, but a weight he'd carried himself.
"I hope this knowledge doesn't become a burden," he said quietly.
The pressure in the room shifted.
"That person didn't sacrifice himself to chain you to his choice."
His eyes didn't waver.
"He chose that responsibility so you wouldn't have to."
A pause.
"Not to weigh you down… but to give you the strength to reach forward with your own hands."
Something in my chest loosened—just slightly.
Not gone. Never gone.
But lighter.
Yuji wasn't looking at us like weapons. Or saviours.
He was looking at us like people who were still allowed to live.
Mira exhaled slowly, arms crossing as if grounding herself. Zoey wiped at her eyes, pretending it was just exhaustion.
Celine cleared her throat, authority returning just enough to move us forward. "You should all get some rest. Today was… a lot."
No one argued.
As we moved deeper into the apartment, I glanced back once more.
Yuji stood where he was, hands in his pockets, gaze lowered—like someone who had said exactly what he needed to, and nothing more.
I didn't know why, but I felt it clearly.
This wasn't just where our worlds collided.
This was where something inside me began to shift.
POV: Yuji
That information was new to me—all of it, really. Demons. Honmoon. Their history.
But the weight the girls carried?
That, I understood.
Different circumstances. Same pressure.
The feeling that people had suffered—died—because I was still alive. Because I chose to keep moving forward.
The reasons might differ, but the result was the same.
We endure. We keep going. Because someone has to.
"Yuji," Celine said, pulling me back. "The girls know you'll be staying with them. They're exhausted after everything today, so I hope you don't mind—I'll show you to the guest room."
I nodded and followed her through the apartment, answering a few questions as my eyes wandered. The place was impressive—spacious, clean, almost too quiet for people who lived such loud lives.
This would be my home for the foreseeable future.
"Don't worry," I said. "I understand how they feel. We'll get along."
Celine smiled, relieved.
Once inside the room, I didn't bother unpacking. I lay down, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds before exhaustion finally caught up with me.
The day was over.
Everything else could wait until tomorrow.
Eight Hours Later
I woke up early.
The apartment was quiet—the kind of quiet that exists right before the day begins. I decided to make breakfast. Yesterday had been heavy. Food felt like the right way to start fresh.
Eggs.Toast.Bacon.
Simple. Efficient.
As I finished plating, footsteps approached. The girls entered one by one.
"Good morning, Mr. Itadori," Rumi said, curiosity clear in her voice.
"Morning," Mira added flatly.
"I don't care, just give me anything," Zoey said. "I'm starving."
Three people. Three reactions.
At least they looked better than yesterday.
"I figured we didn't really get a chance to talk properly," I said. "So I made something simple. And… you don't need to call me 'Mr.' We're around the same age. Just Yuji is fine."
Rumi smiled. "Then you can call us by our names too."
We sat together around the kitchen island.
No rush. No pressure.
"…Okay," Zoey said after a bite. "This is actually really good. Unfair. You're strong, and you cook?"
"Life isn't balanced," I replied.
She laughed, and the air eased.
Mira observed quietly. Rumi sat across from me, thoughtful, restrained.
"I had to learn how to live again," I said softly. "Not just fight. Actually live."
"…Did you?" Rumi asked.
"I'm still learning," I admitted. "But being around people who keep moving forward… it helps."
Her smile was small. Genuine.
And in that quiet space between us, I felt it.
This wasn't just a coincidence.
This was recognition.