Beginnings were easy; the middle was hard; the ending was harder still. Writing a novel had always been this way.
Asou Akiya focused on his training.
Meanwhile, the other three vanished from the group chat for more than a week, as if they had collectively gone into hiding.
On January 20, 2006—In the depths of winter, Kyoto welcomed its first snowfall of the year.
At the local dojo, Asou Akiya heard his senpai shouting excitedly that it was snowing. Unhurried, he stepped out of the hall. The cold wind brushed against his face, yet his body was still radiating heat from training. He leapt up to a higher vantage point and beheld the very sight Gojo Satoru saw every year—the ancient city of Kyoto, wrapped in silver and white.
By habit, he raised his phone to take a commemorative photo. Just as he did, it vibrated with a new message. Tapping the screen, a photo immediately filled his view.
Gojo Satoru had posted a snowy selfie in the[Tokyo Jujutsu High Same-Year Quartet] group chat.
[Gojo Satoru: Kyoto's snowing!]
Whatever replies Getou Suguru and Ieiri Shoko sent, Akiya had no attention to spare for them. He held his breath, his thoughts stolen away by the image on the screen.
In the photo, the white-haired youth sat in the courtyard of his family home, taking a selfie. For reasons unknown, he was dressed in a pale blue tonbo yukata patterned with dragonflies.
The grown-up Gojo Satoru was markedly different from the child he once had been.
The divinity that had once clung to him had softened; there was now a joy meant to be shared upon his face. He was no longer the white-haired divine child who advanced with his eyes closed, detached from the world.
He lifted a hand to catch a snowflake drifting down from the sky.
The crystal-clear flake hovered upon his palm, exquisitely translucent—infinitely near, infinitely distant—dragging a theory that belonged to the realm of the fantastical into tangible reality, realizing the spatial effect in which "this distance can be reduced without end, infinitely approaching zero."
The snowflakes fell ceaselessly, drifting toward him, only to be arrested within the technique of the Limitless, frozen there as eternity itself.
"Does this count as eternity?" he wondered.
For reasons he could not explain, Asou Akiya felt as though he himself were that falling snowflake.
"Maybe it does."
A subtle pessimism stirred within Asou Akiya.
His spirit savored the thrill and the pressure of pursuing something beyond reality; it was, truthfully, an exquisitely intoxicating experience.
In the photograph stood the unattainable Six Eyes divine child; in reality, he was a classmate within reach. Through their everyday interactions, Gojo Satoru had already grown accustomed to rarely using the Limitless on him.
In the group chat, Gojo Satoru was urging everyone to send selfies, and Asou Akiya sent one in response.
In the photo, he was dressed in a black training uniform, standing beneath the falling snow. Unlike Gojo Satoru, he could not halt the snowflakes; they poured freely across the mortal world. Yet in his eyes bloomed a quiet peace and a gentle beauty, briefly transcending the bounds of reality.
Jujutsu sorcerers were, after all, a special kind of people.
He did not feel cold. On the contrary, after training, warmth spread comfortably through his entire body.
Asou Akiya lightly stuck out his tongue and caught a tiny, hexagon-shaped snowflake, beautiful even under a microscopic gaze. It melted at once, leaving behind a faint, silken chill.
May one's life bloom as brilliantly as summer flowers, and one's death be as beautiful as winter snow as it melts away.
After all, this place did not exactly favor burial in the earth.
[Gojo Satoru: Akiya, you're in Kyoto too? I'm coming to find you and hang out!]
At the Gojo residence, Gojo Satoru lingered over the photo of Asou Akiya for a few extra seconds. The same snowy backdrop—yet Akiya had not even left the Kyoto dojo. How annoying. And he never bothered to tell him, either.
Gojo Satoru had just stood up.
[Asou Akiya: No, I can't. I need to train.]
Gojo Satoru sat back down, then recalled the last time he had helped Asou Akiya master Black Flash.
[Gojo Satoru: Want me to give you some extra tutoring after class?]
[Asou Akiya: Gojo-sensei?]
Ahhh, Gojo-sensei!!
Gojo Satoru felt as refreshed and invigorated as if he had just downed a huge bottle of hot milk tea in the middle of winter.
[Asou Akiya: But could Gojo-sensei come wearing that yukata? I want to take a closer look.]
[Gojo Satoru: Wait there. I'm coming right now!]
[Getou Suguru: …]
[Ieiri Shoko: Tsk—who was it that got excluded by everyone last year and swore they wouldn't go out until they finished their novel this year?]
[Getou Suguru: Honestly, I kind of want to go to Kyoto too.]
[Ieiri Shoko: And who exactly do you want to see there?]
[Getou Suguru: Either Satoru or Akiya, I don't mind. Just looking at them is pleasing to the eye.]
[Ieiri Shoko: Can you DKs stop flirting ambiguously for once?]
[Getou Suguru: Shoko's just jealous that we guys can talk about anything without getting shy like girls do.]
[Ieiri Shoko: No jealousy, no shyness. Don't spout nonsense, Getou.]
[Getou Suguru: So boring. Forget it, I'm going to Kyoto too. I can use a special-grade cursed spirit to help Akiya train Simple Domain—I'm sure he'll improve by leaps and bounds! Akiya, remember to call me "Getou-sensei"!]
At the Getou household, a topknot-wearing boy spending his winter break at home climbed out the window and leapt onto Rainbow Dragon.
A joyful trip far from home.
He abandoned the warmth of his bedroom, along with the unfinished novel draft left spread across his desk.
The Kyoto dojo welcomed two soon-to-be Special-Grade sorcerers.
By the time Getou Suguru arrived astride Rainbow Dragon, the other two were not engaged in any serious one-on-one instruction at all—they were fooling around.
Gojo Satoru chased after Asou Akiya, flinging handfuls of snow at him, determined to scatter snow all through his hair and down his collar, while Asou Akiya ran ahead. Even as he fled, he scolded Gojo for being childish, all while shouting that Gojo's yukata was flying open as he ran.
Left with no choice, Gojo Satoru pressed one hand to the hem of his yukata and slowed his pace. Getou Suguru focused his gaze and realized that the white-haired boy was not wearing any proper winter clothing at all—he was genuinely dressed in nothing but a festival-style yukata.
It was winter.
And that light blue dragonfly-patterned yukata actually looked rather good on him.
"It's not flashing anything—nice try, scam rejected," Getou Suguru said as he stepped forward, slyly tugging at the sash tied behind Gojo Satoru's waist. A men's yukata didn't use the standard bow knot, but it wasn't especially hard to undo either.
"Getou! Are you some kind of pervert?" Gojo Satoru bristled instantly, clutching his loosened sash in alarm.
"Getou, how is that any different from flipping up someone's skirt?" Asou Akiya came to Gojo's defense, fiercely condemning Getou Suguru for making a sneaky move on Gojo's clothing right there in public.
"Alright, alright," Getou Suguru said, spreading his hands. "I thought he wouldn't get embarrassed anymore."
Gojo Satoru, suddenly stripped of all sense of security, retreated to the side and said, "Akiya, the sash is loose—help me tie it tighter."
Asou Akiya felt a headache coming on. "Can't you do it yourself? I don't know how to tie these old-fashioned knots."
Gojo Satoru clicked his tongue. "Tch…"
Then he added, "Keep an eye on Getou. I'll do it myself."
Left with no choice, Asou Akiya stepped in front of Getou Suguru, blocking him, while Gojo Satoru retied his sash properly.
Once the wardrobe crisis was resolved, Gojo Satoru activated Limitless and stepped out from behind Asou Akiya, shooting a fierce glare straight at Getou Suguru. A bead of cold sweat slid down Getou's forehead. "Satoru, you look great today—I was just joking."
Gojo Satoru snapped back irritably, "Akiya looks just as good, so how come I don't see you joking around with him?"
Getou Suguru replied with lingering fear written all over his face, "Because when he gets his revenge, he's far scarier than you."
Asou Akiya: "..."
Asou Akiya scooped up a handful of snow and walked straight toward Getou Suguru, while Gojo Satoru flanked him from the opposite direction, cutting off his escape.
Getou Suguru retreated—one step, then another. Behind him, a vortex of cursed spirits began to unfurl as he raised his voice in warning, telling the two of them not to act recklessly. "Hey, what are you planning to do? I'm Getou-sensei, the one here to assist Akiya in learning a new technique. Show some respect to your teacher—"
"We only need Gojo-sensei here!!"
For once, Gojo Satoru and Asou Akiya were perfectly united in their opinion—against Getou Suguru.
The very next second—
Getou Suguru released the special-grade imaginary cursed spirit, Kokkuri-san.
Kokkuri-san's innate domain spread out, engulfing the two classmates in front of him like a pitch-black sphere that devoured all light. Getou Suguru smiled faintly, and to be safe, he even summoned Rainbow Dragon to stand guard before him, treating his two students with the utmost caution.
Within the domain, Gojo Satoru launched straight into live instruction, guiding Asou Akiya on how to grasp the New·Shadow Style·Simple Domain through real combat.
"Akiya, if you mess this up, Getou's going to laugh at you," Gojo Satoru said with undisguised glee.
"Don't jinx it," Asou Akiya replied, planting both feet firmly on the ground and imposing a binding vow upon himself in exchange for a chance to resist the domain.
His Simple Domain manifested—only to shatter after a single second.
He didn't lose heart. Suppressing the urge to blurt out his deepest wish, Asou Akiya drew his blade once more and continued constructing his Simple Domain.
Gojo Satoru analyzed his condition with ruthless clarity. "Your grasp of it is still extremely crude, and cursed energy is your weakest point. You're destined to be unable to maintain it for very long."
Asou Akiya protested bitterly, "If there's no way to make up for my lack of cursed energy, then don't say it out loud and hurt my feelings!"
Gojo Satoru laughed at him. "Akiya, you need to see yourself clearly."
Asou Akiya wanted nothing more than to seal that mouth that never uttered anything kind, so he resorted to provocation. "Gojo-sensei, if I fail, do you really think you won't be one of the people embarrassed? Or would you prefer that I go seek out another teacher instead?"
Lowering himself to indulge him, Gojo Satoru shifted his footing, deliberately allowing himself to be struck by Kokkuri-san's attack, and calmly spoke his wish.
"My wish is that Akiya can keep his Simple Domain going for more than one minute."
Gojo Satoru shot Asou Akiya a challenging look.
"Akiya, did you hear that? That's my wish. If you fail, I'll suffer the backlash."
"..." Asou Akiya's face drained of color, and his slackened focus snapped tight in an instant.
Cornered, he resisted with everything he had, forcing himself to endure. The near-cursing surge of negative emotion allowed him to squeeze out even more cursed energy.
One minute—he would cling to it with his life and reach it no matter what!
Gojo Satoru, acting as though it had nothing to do with him, stood two steps away, though in truth he already knew the outcome.
He simply wanted to look a little longer, to see it for himself—to watch how this person looked when he was fighting with everything he had.
And, as expected, it was beautiful.
Gojo Satoru laughed and called out, "Akiya."
He clapped his hands—clap, clap.
Cupping his hands like a megaphone, Gojo Satoru shouted, "You can do it!"
He kept clapping back and forth—clap, clap.
In that moment, Asou Akiya's vision was blurred and soaked with sweat.
For an instant, it felt as though the infuriating Gojo Satoru had overlapped with Ryoumen Sukuna in his sight.
[To hell with your cheering—if you've got the guts, stop threatening me with yourself, damn it!]
People have their limits.
But in Gojo Satoru's eyes, Akiya was the kind of person who deserved to be pushed, the kind who, in the future, ought to walk farther than ordinary people ever could.
If he had to dig up a reason—
Gojo Satoru thought to himself, [My classmate and my friend should naturally be better than anyone else.]
He trusted that belief with disarming simplicity.
One minute later.
Just as naturally, he reached out, seized the utterly spent figure, and dragged him into a place within his protection.
"Kokkuri-san, my wish is for you to get the hell out of here right now and bring your master out with you!"
The voice of a wish rang out, and the domain shattered in response.
Getou Suguru materialized in a fit of irritation, unwilling to let Gojo Satoru suffer any backlash. "So you've got Akiya completely figured out—why are you using the exact same trick on me too?"
He sneered sharply, his tone biting. "Gojo, what, are you chickening out now?"
Gojo Satoru ignored the superficial sparring between the two of them and basked smugly in his own brilliance. "I'm just that damn smart."
Asou Akiya was still gasping for breath, his muscles slack and unresponsive, the aftereffects of forcibly squeezing out cursed energy lingering painfully through his body.
Gojo Satoru slung one of Akiya's arms over his shoulder to steady him and shamelessly praised himself. "This is a textbook way to support someone, right?"
Asou Akiya's face was pale, his lashes drooping to veil his eyes, sweat dripping steadily down.
Gojo Satoru kept his guard up against Getou Suguru—but failed to guard against Asou Akiya, who was right beside him.
"Ow!"
A handful of snow was suddenly shoved down the collar at Gojo Satoru's neck.
Getou Suguru seized the opening and lunged in, launching the next round of combat. Together, the two of them forced Gojo Satoru down into the snow and went to town on him.
The three of them devolved into a chaotic brawl—kicking, yanking hair, tugging cheeks, pressing snow straight onto bare skin—every move as childish and shameless as possible, nothing held back.
Before long, the white-haired boy was baring his teeth and cursing, his yukata stamped with several muddy footprints, clothes in disarray as he clutched his loosened sash and fled in retreat.
Behind him, the other two raised their phones, camera flashes merging into a blinding sheet of light.
"Bastard, Getou!"
"Bastard, Akiya!"
"You two freaks!"
He was never wearing an easy-to-come-undone yukata again when going out to fight people!!