The Jujutsu High playground was so empty that only the sound of the wind remained, and the plastic track was scorched hot by the afternoon sun.
Maki Zen'in sat cross-legged on the lawn, her long sword leaning against her side, the blade still stained with a few grass clippings from training.
Her sportswear was already soaked with sweat, clinging to her back and outlining her firm physique. Strands of hair were stuck to her forehead, and every breath she took came with a slight pant.
The intensity of the extra training she had just finished was much higher than the usual classes.
Today was supposed to be a day off; it was rare that even Shoko had left the infirmary to go off-campus to buy sweets.
Yet Maki Zen'in had gathered at the playground early in the morning, repeating everything from basic Cursed Energy manipulation to long sword combat, over and over, until her arms were too sore to lift, only then agreeing to sit down and catch her breath.
"It's a holiday, so why are you still here'self-torturing'?"
A familiar voice suddenly rang out beside her, carrying a hint of mockery.
Maki Zen'in didn't look up, not even raising an eyelid; she had long since grown accustomed to Gojo Satoru's elusive nature.
The next second, a figure sat cross-legged beside her, his black blindfold reflecting the sunlight, holding an unopened strawberry daifuku in his hand—evidently, he had just returned from off-campus.
Maki Zen'in stared at her grass-stained sneakers, her voice somewhat hoarse:
"It's nothing, I just feel... that I'm not strong enough yet."
She paused, her fingertips unconsciously digging into the soil of the lawn, her tone carrying a hint of imperceptible disappointment:
"Last time at the subway station, if I had been just a little stronger, I could have helped Rin share more of the burden. I wouldn't have had to watch him carry everything alone, with no one to lend a hand even when he was injured. I'm always holding everyone back."
Gojo Satoru took a bite of the daifuku, the sweet scent of strawberries spreading in the air.
He turned his head to look at Maki Zen'in's downcast eyes—those eyes that were always filled with determination were now veiled by a faint sense of melancholy.
He swallowed the food in his mouth, his tone softening slightly: "Is it because of Rin?"
Seeing that Maki Zen'in didn't speak, he added with a smile: "You seem to care about him a lot, more than you do about Panda and Inumaki."
This time, Maki Zen'in finally looked up at Gojo Satoru. There was no evasion in her eyes; instead, she nodded gently, her movement slow but firm: "Yeah."
"Why?" Gojo Satoru put away his joking expression and looked at her seriously: "You clearly know that Rin is like a block of ice that can't be warmed up, he can't even be bothered to mention the word 'comrade', and you still want to get close to him?"
Maki Zen'in's gaze fell back onto the long sword, her fingertips gently brushing over the cold blade, as if remembering something. After a long while, she spoke slowly, her voice as light as the wind: "Because I feel that he and I are very similar."
"When I was little, the people in my family all thought I was a 'useless waste', saying I had no Cursed Energy and couldn't even use the most basic Cursed Techniques. Back then, I was really scared, afraid that I would never catch up to others, afraid that I would always be a burden."
The corners of her mouth curled into a faint smile, carrying a sense of relief: "Later, I came to Jujutsu High and met you, met Panda and Inumaki. They never thought I was a waste; they were willing to train with me and go on missions with me. Those shadows from my childhood slowly faded away."
"But Rin is different." Maki Zen'in's eyes darkened again: "I can feel that he is hiding something heavier in his heart than I ever was. Especially after Geto Suguru died, it seems like he has completely closed himself off. It's not that he doesn't want to open his heart, it's that he doesn't dare to. He is afraid of losing again, afraid that because he is 'not strong enough' again, the people he cares about will get hurt. So he chooses to push everyone away first, pretending that he doesn't care."
Gojo Satoru listened quietly without interrupting her. The sunlight fell on Maki Zen'in's face, reflecting the determination in her eyes with striking clarity.
"So you want to be the one to help him open the 'door to his heart'?" There was a bit more gratification in Gojo Satoru's tone, and even a hint of imperceptible approval.
Maki Zen'in nodded vigorously, her voice louder than before: "Yeah! I know the loneliness in his heart, that feeling of being surrounded by people yet feeling like one is walking alone in the dark—I know it all too well. I want to teach him to love, want him to know that not all care leads to loss, and not all weaknesses have to be hidden away. He just lacks a bit of courage, the courage to take the first step."
"But you have to know, this path is very difficult." Gojo Satoru put away his smile, his tone becoming serious: "Rin is not an ordinary person; the knots in his heart are deeper than you imagine. You might give a lot, even be wounded by his indifference, and end up with nothing."
He looked at Maki Zen'in, his eyes probing; he wanted to know just how much determination this girl, who never admitted defeat, truly possessed.
Maki Zen'in didn't hesitate at all. She raised her hand to pick up the long sword at her side, gently gripping the hilt; the cold touch made her even more clear-headed. She stood up and walked toward the track, the sunlight stretching her shadow long, but it couldn't block the light in her eyes in the slightest.
"It doesn't matter how hard it is." She looked back at Gojo Satoru, the corners of her mouth lifting into a determined smile: "Back when I wanted to prove that I wasn't a waste, no one thought I could do it either. But I did it. This time, I can do it too."
Gojo Satoru watched her figure as she started running again, with one last bite of the daifuku left in his hand. He bit down on the last piece, the sweet, cloying strawberry flavor melting in his mouth, his mouth curling upward unconsciously.
"What a troublesome brat," he muttered to himself, though a glimmer of anticipation flashed in his eyes: "But... perhaps, you really might be able to do it."
The wind blew across the playground again, carrying the scent of fresh grass. The sound of Maki Zen'in's footsteps echoed across the empty playground, every step taken with extra firmness. She knew that there was still a long way to go to help Rin open the door to his heart, but she was already prepared; no matter how hard it was, she wouldn't turn back.
The rooftop of Jujutsu High was so empty that only the sound of the wind remained. Rin sat on the edge of the rooftop, his legs dangling in mid-air.
The sky in the distance was covered in dark clouds, the lead-gray clouds pressing down very low. The air was filled with the damp chill of an approaching rainstorm, yet he seemed not to notice, staring quietly at the rows of buildings in the distance, his eyes unfocused.
In the past, he would always sit like this alone, from sunrise to sunset, watching the clouds roll and unfurl, watching the traffic, enjoying a moment of quiet.
But ever since the last dark Cursed Spirit incident, an "invisible" figure had appeared on the rooftop: Sukuna.
The barrier of the Divine Tree Space seemed to have become a bit thinner; Sukuna's voice didn't need to be intentionally transmitted to ring clearly in Rin's ears, as if someone were sitting beside him, sharing this piece of sky with him.
"Aren't you bored? Just wasting time like this." Sukuna's voice carried his habitual mockery, along with a hint of imperceptible impatience. He had seen enough blood and carnage, enough life-and-death struggles; he truly couldn't understand this "idling" state of Rin's.
Rin didn't turn his head, not even raising an eyelid, just gently twirling the cigarette between his fingertips, his voice flat: "Wasting time? I'm waiting for the storm to come."
He could feel that in the air, besides the scent of the rainstorm, there was also a faint, lingering fluctuation of Cursed Energy. It was the trouble that was about to arrive, the signal for a new battle. Sukuna had evidently noticed it too, but couldn't be bothered to care; what he was more interested in was Rin as a person.
"Do you feel lonely? Sukuna." Rin suddenly spoke, breaking the brief silence. He turned his head to look into the void, as if he could see through the Divine Tree Space to that violent monster: "For someone like you, what is loneliness? And what is the meaning of your existence?"
Sukuna's laughter suddenly rang out, carrying a kind of desolation that had seen through the world, yet hiding extreme arrogance: "Loneliness? I feel it every moment."
He paused, his voice gaining a bit more seriousness, yet still carrying the scent of blood: "However, I have never feared loneliness. I only fear boredom; boredom is harder for me to endure than death. That is why I will always fight, always slaughter. Only when killing an enemy, only in the moment I feel the warmth of an opponent's blood, do I feel excited, do I feel that I am still 'alive'."
His gaze fell on Rin, a hint of understanding flashing in his eyes: "And you, Rin, I can tell that we are the same. Deep in your bones, you also harbor a craving for battle, and a hatred for 'boredom'."
Rin didn't refute this, just listened quietly.
Sukuna continued: "The reason I turned myself into a Cursed Object and sealed myself away for a thousand years was not out of cowardice, but because the strong of that era had all been killed by me. A world without opponents is too boring. So I chose to wait, waiting for an era that could make me excited again, waiting for an opponent who could rival me."
"Sounds not bad." Rin suddenly spoke, his mouth curling into a faint smile. This was an expression he rarely showed in front of Sukuna—no indifference, no vigilance, only a hint of rare resonance.
He nodded gently, his eyes looking toward the thickening dark clouds in the distance: "It's soon. The era you are looking forward to is about to arrive. New enemies, new battles—they won't disappoint you."
Sukuna's eyes lit up, his scarlet slit pupils filled with the light of excitement, his voice carrying irrepressible anticipation: "I'd be more than happy to! I couldn't ask for more!"
The wind blew across the rooftop again, ruffling the stray hair on Rin's forehead. His laughter and Sukuna's rang out at the same time. Rin's laugh was light yet firm, Sukuna's laugh was arrogant yet fiery; the two vastly different laughs intertwined, yet were unexpectedly harmonious.
Rin was very clear that Sukuna's "resonance" was nothing but a disguise while he lay dormant. This thousand-year-old monster was always waiting for him to show a flaw, waiting for him to be swayed by emotions, waiting for a chance to seize his body.
But all of this no longer mattered. He needed Sukuna's power, needed the existence of this "opponent" to constantly remind himself not to slack off, not to fall into the trap of "boredom." And as for the battle and excitement that Sukuna wanted, he would satisfy him—but in the end, the only winner would be him, Rin.
In the distant clouds, a flash of lightning tore through the sky, illuminating the determination in Rin's eyes. The rainstorm was approaching, and the battle was about to begin. He stood up.
Sukuna's aura subsided within him, evidently also looking forward to the upcoming "fun." "Let's go." Rin muttered to himself as he walked toward the rooftop exit: "Don't keep the new 'toys' waiting too long."
...
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