"Kira-kun, are you saying you know the whereabouts of Sukuna's finger?"
Principal Gakuganji raised a long white eyebrow, his voice laced with genuine surprise.
He had always known that Tokyo's Kira Nanami had a particular knack for resolving curses, but he hadn't expected the man to produce an answer in less than forty-eight hours.
"Mhm..."
"Where is it?"
Kira didn't answer immediately. He took a moment to smooth out his tatami cushion, ensuring there wasn't a single fold before sitting down with perfect posture. He took a sip of the tea Miwa had just brewed; the fragrance filled the small room, its slightly bitter, withered scent making the air feel heavy and intoxicated.
He took another sip and asked casually, "Lord Gakuganji, how have you been feeling lately? Your mood, specifically?"
"My mood?" Gakuganji's eyebrow climbed higher. For a moment, he couldn't follow Kira's train of thought. He answered tentatively, "My mood is... fine?"
"That's good. Maintaining a positive mindset is vital for one's health."
"Kira-kun, let's stop speaking in riddles." Gakuganji offered a helpless smile and waved a hand in a gesture of surrender. "Tell me what you know."
"Your students have been clashing lately." Kira watched a few tea leaves floating on the surface of his cup, bobbing like lonely flotsam on a green lake. "Kyoto hasn't been peaceful either."
"Kira-kun..."
"Two days ago, your students and I encountered two Curse Users at the Kyoto Trade Center. One Grade 3, one Grade 1."
"Weren't they killed by you?"
"Perhaps," Kira replied with a faint, noncommittal smile. "But before that man was 'killed,' I heard the Grade 3 say something interesting: 'More! More! More! Let the hatred and fear feed our Cursed Spirit!'"
Kira pitched his voice to mimic the chuunibyou-esque theatrics of the attacker, using a flat, rhythmic tone.
"...And?" Gakuganji's lip twitched. "As far as I know, causing disasters to feed a curse negative energy is standard practice for Curse Users."
"No, it wasn't 'his' curse," Kira corrected him, emphasizing the distinction. "He said 'our' Cursed Spirit."
"This behavior isn't isolated; it's organized. It wasn't his personal pet; it belongs to a group."
Gakuganji's expression finally hardened into one of serious attention.
"Let's look at the data," Kira continued. "Two weeks ago, Kyoto's suicide rate began to trend upward. That same week, you detected the first and only trace of Sukuna's finger. Coincidence?"
"What are you implying?"
Kira set his teacup down and gazed out the window. A summer morning, mountains draped in green. In the valley below, plumes of smoke rose from the village chimneys as farmers headed to the fields. After a few seconds, he pulled his gaze back and locked it onto Gakuganji.
"The entirety of Kyoto has been cursed. An unknown contagion is spreading through the hearts of the people."
Silence.
"That's absurd! A range of that magnitude... even a Special Grade Cursed Object couldn't achieve that!"
"What if there is a 'Heavenly Restriction' involved?"
Heavenly Restriction. A binding vow forced upon a person at birth, granting immense power at a terrible cost. Maki Zenin traded her Cursed Energy for superhuman physical prowess; Kokichi Muta traded his health for the reach of a semi-Grade 1 sorcerer. And Kira Nanami—according to his own claims—possessed Cursed Energy but no innate technique, a restriction that had manifested his powerful Shikigami, Killer Queen.
"What if a Special Grade Curse User was born with a talent specifically for 'Infection,' bolstered by the cost of their Restriction? And what if they were then fed a finger of Sukuna? Would that be enough?"
"Still not enough."
"Correct. It isn't enough to kill—yet. That is why the spread is currently so shallow that it's almost undetectable. It lurks in the body like a virus, spreading through social interaction, through every glance, every expression, every spoken word. Negative emotions are spreading through Kyoto like weeds."
"When these emotions reach a breaking point, an organization—let's call them 'X'—begins terrorist attacks. The first was at the Trade Center, which Todo and I happened to stop. You dismissed it as a gas leak to the public."
"But it won't be the last. They will launch organized attacks across the city—malls, plazas, airports—to snap the citizens' fragile nerves. They will detonate the dark emotions that have already reached their threshold. Kyoto will descend into unprecedented panic. Mutual suspicion. Fear."
"The government's failure to stop the attacks will lead to protests and riots. And in those conflicts, the negative energy will spread even further... the curse will eventually rule the city. Kyoto will become a real-world Gotham."
"And all of this serves a single purpose, as I said at the beginning: to cultivate a single spirit..."
"...You have no evidence."
"Lord Gakuganji, have you been feeling irritable lately?"
"I said you have no evidence! If this were true, it would mean an organization is using a Special Grade object as soil and an entire city's terror as fertilizer just to grow one monster!"
"Lord Gakuganji, have you been feeling irritable lately?"
"No Cursed Spirit can absorb that much negative energy! If it succeeded, it would be a second Sukuna!"
"It's preposterous! Ridiculous!"
"Lord Gakuganji, have you been feeling irritable lately?"
"I AM NOT IRRITABLE!"
Gakuganji slammed his hand down, nearly flipping the table. His tea sloshed over the wood. His white beard was disheveled, his face flushed red with anger. Suddenly, he froze.
"I am asking you," Kira said, his voice a calm, flat line. "Have you been feeling irritable?"
Kira watched the Principal's outburst with a look of utter boredom. He wanted this pointless conversation to end.
"From where I'm sitting, you seem quite agitated. You aren't usually a man who loses his temper so easily over a mere hypothesis. What's come over you?"
"...You brat."
Gakuganji realized he'd been played. He gave a sharp, dry laugh, pointing a finger at Kira's nose. "You little brat. You used me as a test subject?"
"A junior would never dare."
"But," Kira continued, "if even a man of your stability can no longer control his emotions, it means the 'infection' has already spread dangerously far."
Gakuganji looked away, his pride stinging.
Kira noticed and offered a hollow comfort. "Don't take it personally. I've been infected as well."
Since arriving in Kyoto, Kira had felt his impulses slipping. At the handshake event, he had wanted to take every idol's hand; in the taxi, he had nearly committed murder over a detour. He had blamed the travel for disrupting his peace, but now he had found the true culprit.
"You still lack decisive evidence."
Kira didn't get angry. He simply smiled—that same, neutral, professional smile.
"I am the evidence."
"Oh?"
"Since my youth, I have had a physiological quirk. Whenever my stress or irritation levels rise, the growth rate of my fingernails accelerates."
"Since I arrived in Kyoto, my nails have been growing at twice the rate they do in Tokyo."
"Prove it."
"Very well."
Kira lifted his hand from beneath the table. On his pale, elegant fingers, the nails—which he had trimmed to perfection just an hour ago—were now pushing upward like bamboo shoots in spring. They were already half an inch long.
"At this current length," Kira whispered, his face a mask of absolute calm, "it indicates that I am currently experiencing an urge to kill."