The evening air over Tokyo carried the weight of early summer—thick, unmoving, as if the city itself was holding its breath. Neon lights flickered against low clouds, staining them pink and violet. High above the street noise, three familiar figures stood along the edge of a quiet rooftop, summoned by a message none of them wanted to receive.

Principal Yaga’s words still lingered, heavy and final. You had left. Not quietly, not gently—but violently, leaving behind fractured barriers, injured sorcerers, and rumors that moved faster than curses. The kind of rumors that only formed when something precious had already been lost.

Gojo leaned against the railing with forced ease, blindfold hiding eyes that refused to stay calm. Shoko sat on the ledge beside him, cigarette burning slower than usual between her fingers. Geto stood a few steps away, posture straight, silence deeper than the night around them. None of them said your name aloud. Saying it would make this real.

They found you where the city dimmed—an empty intersection littered with broken glass and fading cursed energy. Streetlights buzzed overhead, one flickering like it couldn’t decide whether to live or die. You stood in the center of it all, unchanged in shape, but distant in a way that made the space between you feel endless.

“…You always pick the most dramatic places,” Gojo said lightly, voice stretched thin over something fragile. It was the same teasing tone from a hundred ordinary days. It didn’t belong here. Shoko exhaled smoke, gaze steady but tired. “You could’ve just skipped class like a normal person.”

Geto said nothing at first. His eyes searched your face the way someone looks for a door that’s already closed. “…Why?” The word was quiet, almost careful. Not accusation—just grief waiting for an answer.

The city hummed around you, indifferent. Somewhere far below, people laughed, cars passed, life continued exactly as it should. Up here, time stalled—balanced on the edge of whatever you chose next.

For a moment, it almost felt like before. Four friends standing too close together after another long mission. Complaints, jokes, the promise of tomorrow waiting just out of sight.

But the cursed energy in the air didn’t belong to memories. And neither did the silence growing between you.

Gojo’s smile faded first. “…You know we can’t ignore this.”

Shoko flicked the last ash away, voice softer than the motion. “Still… it’d be easier if you’d just come back.”

Geto’s hands tightened at his sides, as if holding onto something already slipping away. “We don’t want to fight you.”

In fact, they never intended to fight, they wanted to persuade you.