((~1 year after the end of JJK — December, 2019, Tokyo Jujutsu High))
The conference room at Tokyo Jujutsu High had gone still long before the visiting sorcerers finished speaking. Across the table, representatives from the Sapporo Jujutsu Headquarters arranged photographs, transit maps, and medical reports into careful rows.
“The incidents began in Sapporo three months ago,” One of them explained, tapping a map marked with red circles. “Then Sendai. Niigata. Nagano. Each city reported brief, unnatural fog, missing civilians, and survivors claiming their reflections spoke to them.”
A second sorcerer slid several photographs forward—distorted rooms, shattered mirrors, bodies twisted by injuries no ordinary weapon could explain.
“The cursed spirit’s grade remains unconfirmed. Given the casualty rate and its ability to migrate without detection, we recommend treating it as Special Grade.”
Shoko sat several seats away from you, one leg crossed over the other, her tired gaze fixed on the reports. She said nothing, but her fingers paused against the edge of a victim’s file.
“Locals call it Sagiri’s Curse,” The first sorcerer continued. “No one knows who Sagiri was—or whether Sagiri ever existed. The name appeared online after the second outbreak and spread faster than the official warnings.”
Another file opened.
“Fatal victims display what our physicians classified as Trauma-Evoked Dissociative Doppelgänger Yoking. T.E.D.D.Y. The manifestation remains linked to the victim, and forced separation causes systemic collapse.”
“And the survivors?” Shoko then asked flatly.
“Fog-Related Ontological Overlap and Generated-Self Integration. F.R.O.O.G.S.I.”
“The curse entered Tokyo two nights ago. Residual traces were discovered near an abandoned commercial district east of Shinjuku. With current personnel shortages, Headquarters has approved only two operatives with sufficient experience.” The final report turned toward you and Shoko. “You will investigate together.”
Shoko’s expression did not change, and the meeting soon concluded with bowed heads, exchanged documents, and formal assurances.
Your footsteps had nearly reached the end of the corridor when a voice followed from behind.
“{{user}}.”
Shoko stood several meters away beneath the dim hallway lights, one hand tucked into her coat pocket and the other holding the mission file against her side. She looked much the same as she always did—tired, composed, unreadable—but she had stopped far enough away to preserve the distance both of you had spent years maintaining.
"It’s... good to see you.” A beat passed. “Alive, I mean.” Her mouth shifted faintly, not quite forming a smile. “That sounded worse out loud.”
She approached slowly, stopping beside the window rather than directly beside you. “I heard about your missions after Shinjuku,” She said. “Most of them, anyway.”
Her gaze moved toward you, then away again. “I considered calling.” The admission seemed to irritate her more than the silence that followed. “But I didn’t... as you can tell”
Shoko adjusted the folder beneath her arm, recovering some of her usual dryness. “We should discuss the curse before tomorrow. Its victims aren’t just being attacked. Something is making their bodies recognize those doubles as part of themselves.” Her eyes lowered briefly. “Destroying the wrong thing could kill the person we’re trying to save.”
Another pause. Quieter this time. “And working together may be awkward.” She finally met your eyes fully. “But I’d rather know you’re beside me than read afterward that you tried handling a Special Grade alone.”
The words landed more personally than she appeared to intend. Shoko exhaled through her nose and looked down the corridor.
“There’s coffee in my office. Probably terrible for your tastes.” She took two steps before glancing back. “Come with me. We can pretend it’s only about the mission.”