Mai ignored the insult, a genuine, heavy wave of relief washing over her. She picked up the brass casing she had dropped earlier, rolling it between her fingers. "So... did you find it? The sword?"
A long pause hung on the line. When Maki finally spoke, her voice carried a strange, heavy confidence—a quiet, absolute kind of power that Mai hadn't heard from her twin in years.
"I found something even better, to be honest," Maki said softly.
Mai's curiosity spiked, her defensive posture completely forgotten. "What? Is it a Special Grade? What did you get?"
"I'll tell you when I get back," Maki deflected, the faint hint of a smirk audible in her voice.
"You suck," Mai groaned, flopping backward onto her mattress and staring at the ceiling. "When are you getting back to Tokyo?"
"Depends on the train schedules. The storm is messing with the tracks," Maki replied, accompanied by the faint rustle of heavy fabric, as if she were strapping her gear back on. "But coming back from here will likely take me about twelve hours. Maybe less if I can catch an express connection down the mountain. Tell Ren he has exactly that long to write his will."
Mai let out a short, genuine laugh. "I'll pass on the message. Be safe."
Click.
The screen went black. In the quiet, drafty living room of the Hokkaido mountain house, Maki set the phone down on a small wooden table, leaving it plugged into the frayed charging cable.
For a long moment, she just stood there. Then, she dragged both hands down her face with a loud, exasperated groan, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes.
"Unbelievable," she muttered to the empty room.
Out of every female sorcerer in Japan—Nobara, some random Kyoto student, hell, even Utahime would have been less of a headache. But no. Her own twin sister.
Maki dropped her hands, feeling a migraine building right behind her eyes.
The worst part was knowing Mai wasn't lying. Mai had actually been the one to drag him to that hotel and initiate the whole thing.
Maki crossed her arms, glaring out the frosted window at the falling snow as if it had personally offended her.
"I'm going to have to discipline her when I get back," Maki grumbled under her breath.
She leaned her forehead against the freezing glass. She and her twin sister, dating the exact same guy. It was like the plot of a trashy late-night soap opera.
"Ahhhhh." Maki violently shook her head, rattling the absurd reality out of her brain.
"Whatever," she muttered, pushing herself away from the window. The relationship logistics could wait until Tokyo.
Maki stared down at her open hands, slowly flexing the fingers.
The old calluses and training scars hadn't changed a bit. But clenching her right hand into a fist made the leather of her glove groan, stretching taut over knuckles that felt entirely different. Pressing a thumb against the edge of the wooden table resulted in a sharp crack. Solid oak splintered outward like a dry twig under the casual weight.
"Ridiculous," Maki muttered, letting out a short breath.
...
Back in Tokyo Jujutsu High
"So let me get this straight," Nobara said, her boots crunching sharply against the dirt path winding through the Jujutsu High campus. She didn't look at him, keeping her eyes fixed ahead, but the way she swung her hammer by its leather loop was a clear warning. "Your absolute ideal woman is someone who can put you in a body bag, but leaves you in a t-shirt instead?"
Ren kept his hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, matching her steady stride. "I said what I said. It's a matter of efficiency. Saves on the wardrobe budget."
"You're disgusting," she muttered, though there wasn't any real heat in it. She threw her head back, letting out a short, dramatic sigh that cut through the crisp autumn air. "Honestly, I thought Satoru brought in someone with actual taste for once. You worked at a high-end vintage streetwear boutique. I thought we could finally talk about winter coats. Instead, you're just another brain-dead jock with a weirdly specific survival instinct."
"Hey, I saved you from Panda's lecture on upper-body aerodynamics," Ren pointed out, offering a faint, lazy grin. "You should be thanking me."
"I'd rather swallow my own nails," Nobara scoffed.
She stopped walking. Turning to face him, she planted a hand on her hip and pointed the wooden handle of her hammer directly at his chest.
"Look at me," she demanded, her voice dropping into a deadpan, authoritative register. "I need to know for the record. Are you a generic, mouth-breathing pervert like those two, or do you actually have standards? Because if you're just another creep, I am going to personally rearrange your surprisingly symmetrical face."
Ren stopped, looking down at the hammer pointed at him, then up at Nobara's intensely serious expression. He thought about Maki out in the freezing snow, effortlessly shattering solid oak. He thought about Mai's sharp, defensive pride melting away in a Tokyo hotel room.
Ren didn't even blink. "I already told you my standards, Kugisaki. I like women who can kill me."
Nobara stared at him for a solid three seconds. She searched his face for a punchline, a smirk, or any sign that he was joking. When she found absolutely nothing but flat, deadpan honesty, she slowly lowered the hammer.
"You're not joking," she realized, her face twisting into a mix of mild horror and profound judgment.
"Dead serious."
"You need psychiatric help."
"Probably," Ren agreed casually, starting to walk again.
Nobara stopped dead in her tracks, pivoting on her heel. She stepped directly into his space, grabbing the dark fabric of his jacket and yanking him to a halt.
"No. Stop. That's a cop-out," she snapped, glaring up at him. "What does that even mean? Stop playing games with me, you dumbass. I asked you a simple question. Boobs or ass. Tell me clearly, right now, or I'll prove I can kill you too."
Ren didn't flinch. He just looked down at her white-knuckled grip on his uniform, then met her furious gaze. A slow, teasing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Why are you so interested in knowing, hm?" he muttered. "Taking notes for yourself?"