Yuji Itadori watered the flowers. Under the midsummer sun, white petals gleamed. Water ran down the stems, catching the light, making it look as though warm, liquid sunlight were flowing along the branches.
Summer flowers bloomed in full. But for one person, autumn had already come.
"Idiot! What'd you buy so many flowers for?"
"Same as always. And they're not for you—they're for the nurses."
Yuji answered without looking up, still watering.
"Your club! Why aren't you at club activities?"
"Club ends at five. I've got nothing better to do."
He set the watering can back in the drawer, casual as ever.
"Well, good timing then."
The old man shifted onto his side, left hand propped under his cheek. Sunlight fell across him, and he felt a warmth he hadn't known in a long while.
"Humor me and listen to a bored old man ramble."
"Not interested, gramps. Just focus on getting better." Yuji waved him off and dropped back into the bedside chair.
"About your parents—"
"I said I'm not interested. Please don't try to be cool right before you die, okay?"
Yuji shrugged with a helpless look on his face.
"A man should die with style! You don't get it, you little punk!"
Yuji pressed his lips together, stood, and walked back to the window.
"Stop losing your temper. Just... be normal about it."
He looked out at the scenery. A long silence.
"Tch. This laid-back generation is hopeless."
The old man turned his back to him.
Neither of them spoke. For a long time the hospital room was quiet again.
Children's laughter drifted in from outside, along with the buzzing of cicadas—obnoxious, but unmistakably alive, brimming with the full heat of summer.
"Yuji." The old man broke the silence.
"Yeah?"
"You're strong. So go save people. As many as you can. It's fine to feel lost. It's fine if nobody thanks you."
He paused. Something seemed to catch in his throat.
"Just... do your best to save as many as you can. And when it's your time—die surrounded by others."
"Don't end up like me..."
That last part was barely a whisper.
A breeze slipped through the window. A few radiant petals drifted from the summer flowers.
Yuji Itadori leaned against the table, head tilted back, tears streaming down his face.
By the time the paperwork was done, night had fallen. The evening sun was sinking behind the mountains, the fire-red clouds that had stretched for miles slowly dying out, replaced by a deeper, lonelier shade.
Yuji walked out of the hospital room—and noticed a blond man leaning against the wall. Seeing Yuji emerge, the man straightened up and said evenly:
"Hello."
"Hello." Yuji scratched his head, puzzled. "And you are...?"
"My name is Nanami Kira. I'm thirty-three years old, I live in... Everyone says I'm perfectly normal."
Having rattled off his self-introduction like a restaurant menu, Kira gave him a nod.
"Yuji Itadori, right? My condolences."
"I'm not really sad anymore. Just kind of... lonely, I guess."
"Did your grandfather say anything at the end?"
"Yeah. He told me to die surrounded by everyone." Yuji chuckled. "Total middle-school-syndrome stuff."
Despite the joke, his expression was earnest, something bright in his eyes.
"It's embarrassing, but I promised. And when you make a promise, you keep it."
Beaten to death by a mob? Trampled in a stampede? Lethal injection before a crowd?
Kira couldn't quite picture what "dying surrounded by people" looked like in practice, but he didn't dislike people who kept their promises. To him, honoring commitments and sticking to plans was a virtue.
"If that's the promise you made, then see it through. Die surrounded by everyone."
Kira said it with complete sincerity.
"So, was there something you needed from me?"
"Ah."
Kira checked his watch and scratched his head, embarrassed.
"It's already seven-forty. I didn't want to interrupt you earlier, and I lost track of time."
"Fushiguro."
He waved to a boy in the distance.
"He's all yours. I'm clocking out."
"Kira! Wait—don't go, don't go—bastard!"
Fushiguro's shout echoed through the silent hospital.
"So you're saying the curse is real?"
"The finger—where is it now?"
"At the school? With your senpai?"
"Stay here. Don't move!"
Fushiguro barked the order, cursed energy surging through his body. A massive silver-white hound burst from his shadow, and in an instant it carried him away from the hospital.
The rush of wind fell behind him as he accelerated—faster, faster, no time, come on!
If it was true, an unsealed Sukuna's Finger would draw curses like flies to a corpse. They'd swarm it, tearing through anything in their path.
The Divine Dog tore through street after street, leaping between rooftops, shrinking to a pale dot in the distance. Silver moonlight ran along its sleek fur as it hurtled over the school gate.
It scaled the building, bounding floor to floor—first to third in a single leap—following the trail of the heaviest curse presence, crashing through a window—only to find nothing.
Empty. The place reeked of curses, but there was nothing here—as if whatever had unleashed that horrifying aura had been utterly erased.
"Took you long enough."
A voice came from behind. Fushiguro whipped around on reflex. Nanami Kira stepped out of the darkness.
His pink shikigami dangled a maggot-cluster curse in its grip. A light squeeze, and flames consumed it, reducing it to ash.
A heavyset boy cowered behind Kira.
Kira had saved him.
Kira glanced at his watch. "I still had a few minutes before clocking out. Leaving early isn't my style."
"But it's eight o'clock now, Fushiguro."
Kira met his gaze, calm and even.
"Can I trust you to handle it?"
Is this man really testing me? Giving me a chance to grow?
He'd already come all this way. With his Semi-Special Grade skills, wiping out these curses would take minutes at most—yet he was using "off the clock" as an excuse. A few extra minutes wouldn't kill him. He had to be looking for a reason to step back...
Fushiguro thought of how Kira had turned down the Special Grade examination. His conviction grew a little stronger.
Nanami Kira... he might actually be the real thing. A man who devotes himself entirely to destroying curses, asking nothing in return.
"No problem."
He gave a firm nod.
"See ya. Heading home—if I don't get back soon, my girlfriend's gonna grow mold waiting."