When the twenty-six-year-old "Cult Leader Getou" appeared in the script, Gojo Satoru and Ieiri Shoko were both visibly startled.
They had witnessed the entire process of Getou Suguru being fussed over and dressed up. They knew the waist-length hair was a wig. They even knew that the "Gojo Kesa" he wore was a custom-made religious garment Asou Akiya had ordered in advance.
They knew all of this.
And yet, knowing did nothing to dismantle the fixed impression of Getou Suguru that had long been etched into their minds.
Now he arrived reeking of blood and killing intent, not a trace of warmth or gentleness about him. The oppressive aura alone was enough to make Ieiri Shoko stumble over her lines.
Gojo Satoru fared slightly better. The blindfold aided his performance, shielding his eyes and lending him composure. He forced himself to remain calm and recited his lines according to the script.
The lines Asou Akiya had written for him were concise and to the point, free of unnecessary embellishment—perfectly in line with the decisive, straightforward image he envisioned.
The three of them met face-to-face. All three were shaken—yet each one was better than the last at pretending otherwise.
Opening Scene One of the script: "Getou Suguru, Whose Entire Family Has Been Slaughtered."
Opening Scene Two of the script: "A Class Reunion Ten Years Later, Where Nothing Is As It Once Was."
"I made a bet with Gojo. I thought you wouldn't come," Ieiri Shoko finally found her line again, her face the picture of listless indifference.
"Did you just committed a crime?" She lifted her eyelids lazily, laying the groundwork for the setting. "With your abilities as one of the three Special-Grade sorcerers in the jujutsu world, a cursed spirit manipulator who can command thousands of cursed spirits—how did you end up covered in fresh blood?"
"…" Getou Suguru remained silent.
"…" Gojo Satoru waited for him to speak, knowing that Getou's response would determine which branch of the script the story would take.
If Getou insisted on arguing about matters outside the script, then Yaga-sensei would step in to soothe him.
If Getou was willing to follow the script, then Shoko and he would continue the performance—leaving behind a birthday script none of them would ever forget for the rest of their lives.
After that, Asou Akiya offered Gojo Satoru no further guidance.
In the past, when Suguru's silence had stretched too long, Gojo Satoru would call Akiya and let him work his verbal magic, coaxing Suguru back to normal.
[But now, within the story, Akiya no longer exists. He is a cold corpse.]
Gojo Satoru calmly reviewed the direction of the story and began to notice something suspicious.
Certain matters involving Suguru and Akiya had been stitched into his own script.
For example, becoming a teacher—he had never harbored any grand dream of teaching at Jujutsu High. If anything, Akiya seemed far more suited to being a future educator.
And then there was the notion that he would sacrifice his sleep to prop up the jujutsu world, toiling like a draft animal pulling a cart, declaring that he absolutely could not leave until the next generation had matured.
Wasn't that complete nonsense?
He had never possessed such lofty ambitions. If anyone carried dreams of salvation, it was clearly Suguru.
As for himself and Akiya, they were better suited to graduating and then traveling together in search of good food—eating, drinking, enjoying life to the fullest, occasionally complaining about how overworked Suguru was. And if Suguru ever ran into trouble, they certainly would not mind extending a helping hand.
[What a pain.]
[What exactly pushed me onto the future written in this script?]
[Was it because Akiya died—or because the "abnormal" Suguru standing before me abandoned his grand aspirations?]
Within the script, Asou Akiya died during the winter break at the age of sixteen. He was killed by a curse user while out on an errand, never living to see February 3, 2006, and never receiving a single birthday gift from his classmates in his entire life.
By their second year, Yaga Masamichi's class had been reduced to only three students: Gojo Satoru, Getou Suguru, and Ieiri Shoko. No one mentioned the name "Asou Akiya" ever again, and the underclassmen did not even know such a person had once existed.
In their third year, Getou Suguru took a half-year leave of absence. When he returned, he had grown taciturn and withdrawn. After graduating in their fifth year, Gojo Satoru and Ieiri Shoko remained at the school, while Getou Suguru left the jujutsu world for a period of time. Abroad, he became acquainted with Tsukumo Yuki. Upon returning to Japan, he entered the priesthood and began living like an ascetic monk.
At twenty, Getou Suguru's eating disorder reached its peak.
Even Ieiri Shoko was unable to treat him. An inexplicable "illness" tormented Getou Suguru, yet he stubbornly refused to speak about it.
Gojo Satoru tried to force sweets into Getou Suguru's mouth, only for them to be spat out without the slightest courtesy. Only painfully spicy dishes that punished the taste buds, along with milk tea made with reduced sugar, could suppress his nausea long enough for him to swallow a few reluctant bites.
At twenty-six, Getou Suguru founded his own sect and became its cult leader. He devoted his life to eradicating curse users, rescuing fellow sorcerers in peril, and voluntarily taking in homeless sorcerer children.
The three of them had not seen each other in a very long time.
Getou Suguru's mental state was poor. He often drifted into trances, living as though he were a walking corpse. Only when facing the orphaned sorcerer children would he soften, becoming as gentle and compassionate as a Buddha.
Getou Suguru never attended class reunions. This year, it was because Gojo Satoru had suddenly dreamed of Akiya. In the dream, Akiya had urged him to hurry up with his writing updates. When Gojo woke, he rummaged through his house to find the manuscript drafts of the novel—and then insisted that the other two also show up.
Gojo Satoru finished recalling everything; the entire script lay clearly within his mind. It felt as though he had stepped outside himself and examined his own life from a higher vantage point.
When he did not understand something, he simply asked—openly and without the slightest hesitation. "Suguru, did you bring the novel manuscript? Akiya appeared in my dream and told me not to forget his birthday present from ten years ago."
Ieiri Shoko took a folded stack of draft pages from her pocket, proving that she had not forgotten either. "I brought mine too."
"Hah—" Getou Suguru's chest rose and fell unevenly. All at once, he realized that the anger burning within him had been punctured and deflated by the sheer absurdity of the conversation.
"Hah?" Getou Suguru said, his tone strange. "Appeared in your dream? Did he awaken some kind of innate technique?"
"Yeah," Gojo Satoru replied with a straight face. "In the dream, Akiya transformed into a ferocious special-grade cursed spirit with claws and fangs, hounding me relentlessly to update my writing. He scared me awake on one of my rare days off."
"Where is he?" Getou Suguru demanded, eager to seize the culprit. "Tell him to come collect it himself."
For a split second, the auditorium fell so silent that even the drop of a needle would have been audible.
Gojo Satoru let out a snort of laughter and tugged coquettishly at Ieiri Shoko's white coat. "Shoko, look… he's gone crazy."
Ieiri Shoko pulled her coat free from his grasp and warned him, "Gojo, be serious."
"There's nothing funny about this," she added flatly.
"But it is funny," Gojo Satoru insisted. "We all went to see Akiya. He's the only one who refused to."
Ieiri Shoko continued reading from the script. "Getou has always been like this. He probably only ever remembers the worst things and overlooks the happy moments in life. Ten years ago, the reason Asou encountered a curse user was because he had arranged to meet Getou's parents. Asou wanted to plan a birthday celebration, but little did he know that Getou's parents had already been targeted by an evil curse user."
Gojo Satoru picked up the next line. "He believed the incident was caused by himself. In order to protect Getou's parents, he died inside the teahouse."
Gojo Satoru's tone was casual, his recitation lacking focus.
Yet that very carelessness highlighted the air of a flippant adult: "The curse user possessed a transformation technique and escaped the scene… Whatever. The jujutsu world isn't that big. I just have to kill every curse user with a transformation technique, and that'll count as avenging him."
[Not "ore-sama," but "watashi."]
[The Satoru pretending to be twenty-six has changed the way he refers to himself. He no longer seems arrogant or overbearing. Shoko, too, has grown so indifferent—calmly stating the cause of Akiya's death as if it were nothing, the reason Akiya is not present being that he died ten years ago.]
[This is fake. It's just the script. But why would Akiya arrange a cause of death that mirrors reality so closely? A classmate from Jujutsu High who was celebrating my birthday—dying while protecting my parents?]
[Is Akiya secretly warning me to be cautious of the possibility that my parents might be targeted by curse users?]
[In the script, were they retaliated against by a curse user in 2016?]
[Ten years have already passed…]
[Tch! Didn't Satoru boast that he killed every curse user with a transformation technique?]
Beneath his sleeves, Getou Suguru's clasped hands tightened unconsciously. In his heart, he spat at Gojo Satoru over the script he had pieced together through speculation.
One moment he would tear himself free from the script and analyze it calmly; the next, he would immerse himself in it and silently suppress his emotions.
He absolutely refused to face such a future.
Ten years from now, the four of them would all still be alive, gathering together!
"My parents are dead," Getou Suguru said abruptly, grief surfacing on his face. Between overturning the script entirely and overturning Gojo Satoru and Ieiri Shoko, he chose a third option: joining the script.
He wanted to see just how luxurious Asou Akiya's grave was. If the acting was not convincing enough, he would dig up the coffin on the spot and whip the corpse!
In a heavy voice, Getou Suguru said, "Come back with me. I'll get the manuscript drafts."
Gojo Satoru and Ieiri Shoko exchanged a glance before agreeing.
[Suguru's gotten into character!]
[We finally managed to fool him into going along with it!]
At the Getou residence, the blood had already dried into dark stains. Getou Suguru ignored the lingering stench, pried open the lock—he had forgotten to bring his keys when he left.
Behind him, Gojo Satoru remarked carelessly, "Suguru, you don't even have your house key when you come home?"
Ieiri Shoko added, "You probably haven't been back in a long time."
Getou Suguru paid no attention to their barbed comments. He kept his head down and walked forward, presenting the murder scene before his classmates.
He extended his senses to gauge his parents' condition… their emotions seemed relatively stable.
Thus, Getou Suguru entrusted his parents to Satoru and Shoko, then hurried upstairs to search for the novel manuscript drafts.
Prop acquired +1.
After coming back down, he slipped once more into the role of the twenty-six-year-old "Cult Leader Getou," standing with his arms folded across his chest. "Can you tell me who the murderer is?"
Gojo Satoru: "…"
He already wanted to know the true culprit in the very first segment—Suguru was dreaming too big.
Ieiri Shoko pulled on a pair of white gloves and put on a show of entering examination mode. "There are no traces of residual cursed energy at the scene. It wasn't caused by a cursed spirit. The cause of death for your parents was massive cardiac hemorrhage, and it wasn't the result of a sorcerer's technique either."
Getou Suguru ignored Shoko entirely and pressed the issue. "Satoru, what do your 'Six Eyes' see?"
He sneered. "You don't wear sunglasses anymore, but now you're wearing that blindfold you used to hate. Don't tell me you've gone blind?"
Gojo Satoru was pricked by Suguru's jab and instinctively felt his temper flare.
Behind him, Ieiri Shoko jabbed him in the lower back, reminding him that this was a script.
Gojo Satoru took a deep breath. The corners of his lips dipped downward. Since you're the one asking, then be prepared to accept the answer.
"I'll answer that question after we see Akiya."
"Why?"
"Do you really have to spout this kind of nonsense today? I don't want to say it. You shut up too!"
Gojo Satoru forcefully seized control of the conversation.
"Let's go. We'll meet at the Gojo residence." He did not linger long at the murder scene, as though it meant nothing to him.
Even the tragic deaths of an ordinary civilian couple failed to stir the slightest pity in his heart.
"Getou, I suggest you come. As for the rest—handle it yourself." Ieiri Shoko left him with those words.
Getou Suguru, abruptly abandoned by the two of them, ground his teeth in fury.
[Very well. Very well indeed!]
[Satoru, you've even learned to tell me to shut up.]
He summoned a cursed spirit and rose into the air, riding the wind. Yet the ground below still bore the scenery of 2006, which left him both irritated and faintly amused.
The reason the parallel-world script had been able to deceive Gojo Satoru lay in a multitude of factors. But for Asou Akiya to trick Gojo Satoru once—and then fabricate an entire script-world so realistic it could pass for truth?
Impossible.
He was not Satoru, that "home schooled Six Eyes" Akiya liked to tease about.
The real world would not revolve around a script. At most, he had willingly stepped into a story and chosen to act along with it.
At the gates of the Gojo estate—
The servants lined up to welcome Lord Satoru, along with Lord Satoru's two classmates.
The instant they saw Getou Suguru, a few servants who were privy to certain matters immediately lowered their heads, already preparing themselves for whatever aftermath might follow.
For Getou Suguru and Ieiri Shoko, this was their first time visiting the Gojo residence; everything was unfamiliar. Shoko even had to pretend she had been here several times before, lest she appear too constrained. The two of them followed behind Gojo Satoru, venturing deeper into the ancient clan estate shrouded in layers of barriers.
After entering the inner grounds, Gojo Satoru abruptly changed direction and headed toward a more secluded area.
As they walked farther and farther off the main path, Getou Suguru's brows furrowed, displeasure surfacing. "Is your family's cemetery really this remote?"
Gojo Satoru's back remained an unfamiliar sight—white hair thrusting skyward, broad shoulders giving the illusion of reliability.
"He chose it himself."
Getou Suguru let out a cold laugh. "Oh? The corpse spoke and made its own arrangements?"
"Don't make a fuss, Suguru. Akiya is my person. He had long planned to be buried at the Gojo estate after his death."
"I don't believe it."
Whether inside the play or outside of it, Getou Suguru understood this clearly: Akiya did not belong to anyone.
Some time later—
"We're here."
Gojo Satoru led them to a solitary grave site. It leaned against the mountains and faced the water—remote, yet blessed with strikingly beautiful scenery.
Before any formal introduction could be made, Getou Suguru stepped past Gojo Satoru, who had been blocking his view, and approached the grave.
At first glance, he was surprised by its simplicity. Beside the grave stood an old snow cedar. There was none of the gilded splendor he had imagined. Instead, it stirred an inexplicable ache in his chest.
The tombstone bore no name, no dates of birth or death—only a single line of epitaph carved by hand.
[I passed through a magnificent youth.]
"It suits him," Getou Suguru said hoarsely, forcing out a sincere evaluation.
Asou Akiya—a person of delicate thoughts, keen intelligence, and, in certain respects, extraordinary detachment.
"Who carved it?" Getou Suguru asked the two of them.
"I did," Gojo Satoru answered without hesitation, sounding faintly as though he were showing off his engraving skills.
Getou Suguru questioned someone's level of cultural literacy. "Why does it say 'passed through' instead of 'participated in'?"
Gojo Satoru choked on his words—because that was the epitaph requested by the Akiya-version of a living corpse!
"That's how it was written in the will," Gojo Satoru improvised on the spot. "You know he had a personal hobby of writing wills."
Ieiri Shoko shot Gojo Satoru a sidelong glance.
Since when did she ever know about that?
Gojo Satoru, already stretching himself thin trying to deal with Getou Suguru, racked his brain for an explanation. "He might have felt that he wouldn't make it to the end," he said at last.
To walk alongside for a stretch of the road, rather than to participate in the entirety of youth.
"Suguru, let's put down the gifts."
Gojo Satoru placed the very first novel manuscript draft of his life on the open ground before the tombstone.
Ieiri Shoko followed suit without hesitation.
When it was Getou Suguru's turn, he deliberately set his own manuscript on top of the other two, pressing theirs beneath his.
He clasped his hands together in a posture of mourning for a departed friend, while behind him his two former classmates simmered with rising anger.
"My relationship with Akiya was the closest," Getou Suguru declared. "My work should be placed on top."
"..."
"..."
After the moment of silence, Getou Suguru revealed a smile wholly unsuited to the occasion. A chill seemed to sweep through the air as he calmly produced his reasoning. "The Gojo estate is inconveniently located. To prevent you from neglecting Akiya, I've decided to relocate his grave. That way, I can visit him often."
The words had barely left his mouth when, as an old classmate, Getou Suguru pried open Asou Akiya's "old grave."
Gojo Satoru failed to stop him in time and instead wore an expression as though he were watching a play unfold—until Ieiri Shoko stepped on his foot.
There was no corpse inside the grave.
Only an urn filled with ashes.
Gojo Satoru declared in a righteous tone, "Suguru, don't go too far! If you dare scatter his ashes, I'll kill you!"
Ieiri Shoko: "!!"
Getou Suguru froze. When had he ever said he was going to scatter the ashes?
Gojo Satoru pointed at him accusingly. "If you dare do that, even as a ghost Akiya won't let you off."
In an instant, Getou Suguru saw through Gojo Satoru's malicious little scheme. So this year he had acquired a new skill—framing others for crimes they had not committed.
"Do you think I'd be afraid of him? Forget a ghost—even if he were alive—" Getou Suguru abruptly changed his tone mid-sentence. Hugging the urn of ashes to his chest, he put on a tender expression. "We were the best of friends. He died because of my parents. I will be grateful to him for the rest of my life."
Beneath the blindfold, Gojo Satoru's closed eyes showed the faintest sign of opening.
"Really? Do you truly think that?"
Gojo Satoru asked coolly.
"What exactly are you implying…?"
By this point, Getou Suguru felt that the fact he had not burst out laughing was already giving them plenty of face.
The two of them were clearly improvising parts of their dialogue at will. It was obvious they had played all their cards; the plot had reached a point where it could advance no further.
Once this birthday event was over, they could settle accounts face-to-face, couldn't they?
Ah, right—the cake prepared at the Bulgari Hotel must not go to waste. It would be perfect for smearing all over Asou Akiya.
...
"Suguru, why did you personally kill your own parents and still refuse to admit it?"
"Akiya's death was truly not worth it."
...
The urn of ashes slipped from Getou Suguru's hands. The poorly made container shattered upon impact with the ground.
—The ashes scattered.