Seeing her temper rise, Akira lightly patted her shoulder. “This is Kyoto Station, not Tokyo Jujutsu High.”

  “You didn’t come all this way just to see me, did you?” he added.

  Maki Zenin acknowledged it, her expression settling back down. The sudden shift made Makoto Yi narrow her eyes, because the sister in memory had never been this easy to calm.

  Even at the bottom of that old family, her sister had always held her head high. Whether facing the clan head or elders who had inherited a Cursed Technique, there was never any sense of inferiority. Anyone who ordered her around got snapped back at, and anyone who provoked her got hit.

  She had been beaten down again and again, yet never complained. As long as she could still move, she refused to stop, not even listening to her father, a special grade sorcerer. In the end, she had left home altogether.

  For someone that proud and fierce to rein it in because of a man felt unbelievable. The thought stirred a vague and uncomfortable feeling in Makoto Yi’s chest.

  Crossing her arms, she spoke with a hint of arrogance. “Of course not. Why would I come just to see a dead last? If you can get into Tokyo Jujutsu High, why can’t I?”

  Maki Zenin’s lips moved slightly. She wanted to say that neither of them was much better, that lacking Cursed Energy was no different from only being able to pour Cursed Energy into objects. Standing next to the man who turned basic sorcerer skills into something else entirely, she swallowed the words.

  Arguing over that would make her no different from the rotten conservatism of the Zenin Clan. So she stayed silent, and someone else spoke instead.

  “Isn’t it because you want to catch up to your sister and don’t want to be left behind?”

  “!”

  Makoto Yi’s pupils shrank, anger rushing up all at once. “What nonsense are you talking about? How could I possibly—”

  Before finishing, a sudden rush of air blew her bangs and side hair aside, exposing her forehead and ears. A flash of yellow filled her vision in an instant, stopping just short of her face.

  When it finally stopped, she saw the words printed on it. Tokyo BANANA. It was a sweet said to be a popular new specialty from Tokyo.

  “Was I wrong?” Akira said lightly. “You feel like sisters who get along pretty well. Sorry about that, then. Please forgive me, for the sake of the souvenir.”

  The box lowered slowly, revealing Akira’s familiar smiling eyes. Makoto Yi’s pupils had not fully recovered, and it felt like she had just been dazzled.

  So handsome. No, so fast.

  A moment ago he had been ten meters away, greeting them. In a blink, he was right here. Was this a senior from Tokyo Jujutsu High?

  In a daze, Makoto Yi felt the weight in her hands. It was the souvenir box. Someone who knew to bring gifts was unexpectedly nice.

  Wait, what am I thinking?

  Realizing the slip, Mai Zenin cleared her throat and steadied herself. She nodded to Akira and the rest from Tokyo Jujutsu High.

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  “Apologies. By order of Principal Gakuganji, I’m here to welcome everyone from Tokyo Jujutsu High.”

  “Zenin—” Akira took two steps back.

  “Call me Makoto Yi. Using the family name gets confusing with Maki Zenin,” Makoto Yi replied, just as she had when first meeting her sister.

  “Then, Makoto Yi—”

  Akira seized the moment to wink at Maki Zenin. She clicked her tongue and looked away, clearly annoyed.

  He found it amusing. Maki Zenin could speak plainly to anyone except her sister, and Makoto Yi was much the same. They both cared deeply, yet neither would say it out loud.

  “Is it just you who came?” someone asked.

  “No, there’s one more,” Makoto Yi said, looking around. “Makoto Yi’s… Kasumi, where did that girl run off to?”

  “Is it that kid?” Satoru Gojo spoke up from the back of the group, pointing toward a nearby pillar.

  In the shadow stood a blue-haired girl with long hair flowing down her back. She was about the same age as Makoto Yi, dressed plainly with only minimal grooming, giving off an unusually honest and reserved impression.

  That kind of normalcy was fine among ordinary people. Among Jujutsu Sorcerer, where unstable personalities were common, it stood out as strange.

  Makoto Yi spotted her and strode over, pulling the blue-haired girl out of the shadows. “Makoto Yi, what are you doing, Kasumi?”

  “W-wait, Makoto Yi,” the girl said in a panic. “G-Gojo is looking at me. Satoru Gojo is looking at me. He’s so handsome. Let me stay like this a little longer…”

  Makoto Yi fell silent.

  My sister’s teammates. My teammates.

  What kind of karma is this supposed to be?

  Mai Zenin looked helpless, the others were speechless, but Akira had a very good impression of the blue-haired girl.

  Kasumi Miwa.

  In the Jujutsu World, she was among the very few, perhaps the only normal person. She was gentle in nature, polite to others, and not fond of fighting.

  She did not carry any tragic background, nor did she have outstanding talent. Like Akira, she had no Jujutsu, only Cursed Energy.

  By chance, she became a disciple of the New Shadow Style and turned into a swordswoman of the New Shadow Style. Her reason for wielding a sword was simple and pure, to reduce her mother’s burden, with the goal of standing on her own as soon as possible so she could earn money.

  She owned a Katana that could carry Cursed Energy. Its level among Cursed Tools was not high, but it was something the girl had saved for a long time to buy.

  Like other high school girls, she liked idols, and her idol was Satoru Gojo. Just being able to talk to her idol made her happy, to the point where, if the situation allowed, she would have dragged Akira to a corner to exchange fan gossip.

  Why not just ask Satoru Gojo directly. How many fans could really ask their idol questions face to face.

  Makoto had no strength left even to pull people along. This silly girl was beyond saving.

  With unreliable teammates, Makoto had to handle things herself. She said, “The car is ready. Please come with me.”

  “Wait.” Yuta Okkotsu raised his hand. “Isn’t that also a student from Tokyo Jujutsu High over there?”

  Everyone followed where he pointed and indeed saw another person wearing the Tokyo Jujutsu High uniform. He stood near the exit at the edge of the platform.

  This was a tall man who could match Satoru Gojo in height, with a build even more solid than Masamichi Yaga and Kinji Hakari, like a mass of muscle. His looks followed the same style as Kinji Hakari but were rougher, with a clear scar near the bridge of his nose that added a fierce air.

  His hairstyle was very distinctive, like a small sunflower about to bloom. When they saw this man, both Makoto and Kasumi Miwa stiffened at the same time.

  “Senior Todo…”

  The students from Tokyo Jujutsu High also tensed. Panda had just mentioned the most anticipated rising star of Kyoto Jujutsu High, Aoi Todo.

  “Ignore him, he’s not with us,” Makoto said after a glance, quickly looking away. “Let’s go.”

  “But, but is that really okay?” Kasumi Miwa hesitated.

  “There’s nothing wrong with it. If you want to greet him, go by yourself. I’d be too embarrassed.”

  Once Makoto said that, Kasumi Miwa immediately shut up. The others wisely kept quiet as well.

  Because Aoi Todo was not alone. He stood in the middle of a group of people wearing headbands or support shirts.

  Relying on his height, he alone held the largest sign, with exaggerated letters reading “Takada-chan for life,” followed by a huge heart. If they walked over, even if they did not die of embarrassment on the spot, they would be left with lasting trauma.

  “Uh, then let’s go.”

  “He’ll come back when the exchange event starts anyway.”

  “Yeah.”

  The atmosphere, which had been full of undercurrents, instantly became friendly. It could only be said that it was indeed Aoi Todo, the eternal legend.