Chapter 130: First Encounter with Riko Amanai
Tokyo.
Beneath an ordinary-looking luxury apartment building, several black sedans sat parked in a concealed corner.
Assistant Supervisors in black suits stood nearby, exchanging information in low, tense voices. Their expressions were stiff, and every so often, one of them would glance toward the building entrance as if expecting something to burst out at any moment.
Ever since the location of the Star Plasma Vessel, Riko Amanai, had been exposed, this place had become bait for every Curse User in Japan.
The Star Plasma Cult had issued an outrageous bounty. The organization known as Q had also announced its intention to eliminate the Star Plasma Vessel and overturn the current structure of the Jujutsu World.
The air felt heavy.
Like a storm waiting for permission to fall.
Vroom!
A black motorcycle tore through the street with a low, beastlike growl. It drifted cleanly into the concealed parking area and stopped beneath the apartment building.
Yami swung one leg off the bike and removed his helmet.
The faint scent of sulfur still clung to him from the mountains of Gunma. Across his back was a long, narrow object wrapped in black cloth.
Shiranui.
The newly forged blade rested quietly against him, but even through the cloth, it carried a restrained heat that made the nearby air feel dry.
"Instructor Yami! You're finally back!"
The Assistant Supervisor in charge of coordination looked as though he had just seen salvation descend from heaven.
Yami walked toward the entrance without wasting time.
"What's the situation?"
"Bad," the Assistant Supervisor said, wiping cold sweat from his forehead. "Combatants from Q have already appeared nearby. We also suspect several Curse Users have infiltrated the building. Gojo and Geto went up ahead, but Young Miss Riko's emotional state seems unstable."
Yami nodded.
He had expected as much.
Riko Amanai was not just some mission objective. She was a middle-school girl who had been told since childhood that she existed to become Master Tengen's vessel. Words like duty, honor, and the greater good had been pressed onto her until they looked like shackles.
Of course she was afraid.
Of course she was angry.
And if the Satoru Gojo of this era had opened his mouth, then the situation was probably worse than "unstable."
Yami entered the elevator.
Ding.
The elevator stopped at the top floor.
The moment the doors opened, a fierce argument spilled into the hallway.
"I don't want you two suspicious guys protecting me!"
A bright, furious voice rang out from the apartment at the end of the hall.
"Especially you! The white-haired guy in sunglasses! You look more like a villain than the Curse Users!"
"Huh? I look like a villain?"
Gojo's irritated voice followed at once.
"Hey, brat, try understanding your situation first. If I weren't here, the trash downstairs would have turned you into minced meat already."
"I'm the strongest. You should be grateful you get my protection."
"You're so arrogant! Kuroi, kick them out!"
"Young Miss Riko, please calm down. These two really were sent by Jujutsu High."
Misato Kuroi's exhausted voice followed, caught between panic and helplessness.
Inside, Suguru Geto stood to one side, fingers pressed against his forehead. From the look on his face, he had already given up on stopping the argument through normal human language.
Yami reached the half-open door and paused for a moment.
The noise inside was ridiculous.
It was also painfully alive.
This was the kind of scene he had crossed time to protect.
Knock, knock.
Yami tapped lightly on the door, then pushed it open.
The argument stopped.
Gojo and Geto turned at the same time. The tension in their shoulders eased when they saw him.
"Instructor Yami," Geto said, exhaling as if a burden had finally been lifted. "You're back."
"If you were any later," he added, glancing at Gojo, "Satoru might have started a fight with the person we're supposed to protect."
"Don't make it sound like my fault," Gojo said.
His gaze shifted to the black cloth on Yami's back. Behind his sunglasses, the Six Eyes caught something unusual, and his expression sharpened with interest.
"Oh? You found something good. I can feel that heat even through the wrapping."
Yami ignored his teasing and looked past them.
Behind the sofa stood a girl in a sailor uniform, her ponytail swaying slightly as she watched him with wary eyes.
Riko Amanai.
She was younger than the weight placed on her shoulders.
Her eyes were stubborn, guarded, and frightened. Like a small hedgehog raising every spike it had, trying to pretend that fear did not exist.
In the original future, this girl would fall in a pool of blood during that summer.
Her death would become a scar that Gojo and Geto carried for the rest of their lives.
Yami's gaze softened.
He took Shiranui from his back, leaned the wrapped blade against the wall, and walked toward her.
Riko stiffened.
Yami stopped in front of her and bent slightly, lowering his line of sight until they were looking at each other as equals.
"Nice to meet you, Riko."
His voice was calm and gentle.
"My name is Yami. I'm an External Combat Instructor at Tokyo Jujutsu High, and one of the people assigned to your escort."
Riko blinked.
The man in front of her did not have Gojo's irritating arrogance. He did not have Geto's polite distance, either.
He was looking at her properly.
Not as the Star Plasma Vessel.
Not as a sacrifice.
As Riko Amanai.
"You…"
Her raised guard wavered. A faint blush appeared on her cheeks, and her voice lost some of its force.
"H-hello."
Then her fingers tightened around the hem of her uniform.
"Are you here to force me into the assimilation too?"
The room quieted.
Yami smiled and reached out, gently ruffling her hair.
"No."
Riko froze.
"I'm here to protect you," Yami said. "To protect your right to keep living as an ordinary girl."
The silence deepened.
Gojo and Geto both stared at him.
Those words were not just comforting.
They directly opposed the orders of the higher-ups.
They opposed the very purpose of the mission.
Misato Kuroi covered her mouth, her eyes reddening at once.
Riko slowly lifted her head.
"You…"
Her voice trembled.
"What did you just say?"
Yami withdrew his hand and turned toward the floor-to-ceiling window. Beyond the glass, Tokyo glittered under the evening sky, bright and indifferent.
"The higher-ups' orders, Master Tengen's assimilation ritual, the so-called rules of the Jujutsu World."
His tone remained quiet.
"With me here, none of that matters."
His hand rested on the hilt of Shiranui.
"As long as you don't want it, no one gets to force you."
A scorching pressure swept through the room.
The wrapped blade gave off a faint red glow beneath the cloth, and the temperature rose just enough for everyone present to feel it.
"If anyone tries," Yami said, "they can ask this sword whether it agrees."
Bang!
The floor-to-ceiling window shattered inward.
Two masked combatants from Q swung into the room, poison-coated daggers flashing under the lights. Their movements were clean, practiced, and aimed straight at Riko.
"Watch out!"
Geto's hand moved to summon a Cursed Spirit.
He was fast.
Yami was faster.
Clang.
A red line crossed the room.
Even Gojo's Six Eyes caught only the afterimage of the draw.
The two Q combatants froze in midair.
A heartbeat later, their bodies split apart, cleanly severed. The cut surfaces were scorched black by extreme heat, leaving no blood to spill.
Thud.
Thud.
The charred corpses hit the floor, filling the room with the smell of burnt flesh.
Yami stood by the shattered window.
Shiranui slid back into its sheath with a soft click.
He glanced down at the shadows gathering in the streets below. Curse Users. Q remnants. Bounty hunters. Rats crawling out after the scent of money.
His lips curved faintly.
"It seems some rats couldn't wait to die."
Then he turned back to Gojo and Geto.
"Two strongest."
His tone was almost casual.
"Ready to make a scene?"
Gojo stared at the two corpses, then at the black blade in Yami's hand. Beneath his sunglasses, his pale blue eyes lit up with dangerous excitement.
"Hahahaha!"
He laughed, sharp and delighted.
"Instructor Yami, you're even more arrogant than me."
Geto sighed, but a smile tugged at his lips.
Behind him, several Cursed Spirits began to emerge, their heavy auras filling the room.
"If Instructor Yami says it like that," Geto said, "backing down would be embarrassing."
At that moment, the gears of fate began to grind away from their original path.
And somewhere in the dark corners of Tokyo, Toji Fushiguro looked at the bounty notice in his hand.
A bloodthirsty grin touched the scar at the corner of his mouth.
"An extra troublesome swordsman near the target?"
He folded the paper.
"Doesn't matter."
.....
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