The lowest level of Jujutsu High.
The sacred path to the Tombs of the Star Corridor.
The group stepped out of the elevator.
"Miss Riko, this is as far as I can accompany you," Kuroi Misato said, bowing deeply, her head lowered.
Riko waved cheerfully. "See you later."
Then she turned away, pressing down the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Tilting her face so they wouldn't see, she spoke to Soujun and Geto. "Let's go."
"Miss Riko, please… please remember—" Kuroi called after her, but her voice broke midway.
Riko spun back, unable to hold it in any longer. She rushed forward, cupped Kuroi's cheeks in her hands, stared at her through blurred vision, then threw her arms around her neck. "Kuroi, I love you most of all! Always have… and I always will."
"I… I love you too," Kuroi whispered, hugging her tightly.
The two clung to each other, sobbing.
Geto narrowed his eyes at the scene.
So this was what they'd done. They let her taste warmth. They let her see the light of the sun. When she could have borne the loneliness of the dark, they gave her something to lose. Why then… send her to assimilation?
Soujun lowered his gaze. His voice was calm. "I'll go ahead."
He flicked his brows at Geto. It's up to you to deal with this.
Forward or back, whichever path she chose—it wasn't his to force.
Geto gave a faint nod.
…
Soujun descended alone, until the immense doors of the Tomb rose before him. He pressed lightly. As expected, they did not yield.
It didn't matter.
His Star Eyes burned at full intensity. Countless strands of cursed energy lit up in his vision, weaving together into a vast network of threads.
He followed the currents inward.
No matter how large the barrier, how swiftly it shifted, its essence remained the same. Strip away the layers and find the core. The rest was only illusion.
Soujun circled the Divine Tree, testing and feeling. It was a battle of wills—his mind against Tengen's. A game of rock–paper–scissors played without words, each trying to predict the other's next move.
He withdrew a short cursed dagger, long unused. Talismans wrapped its blade, inked with firm, precise runes.
A stake. He had prepared it in advance—a cursed implement that could serve as the root of a barrier. A keystone that could even be set with an activation chant and handed off to another. A portable Curtain.
All he needed was the right moment, the right opening in the barrier's shifting rhythm, to drive it in and merge a new domain.
The unseen watchers did not interfere. That silence was permission.
…
Footsteps echoed.
"Let's go," Geto said gently.
Riko released Kuroi at last, and together they began down the spiral path.
The Divine Tree towered before them, unmoving, eternal. The stone path wound downward around its trunk, shrines and temples scattered along the way.
They walked in silence, until the colossal trunk loomed so close it seemed to block the sky.
"You'll go down these stairs," Geto told her softly. "Past the gate, all the way to the roots of that tree. Only those summoned may enter. Until assimilation begins, Master Tengen will protect you."
He hesitated.
"…Or, you could still turn back. Go home with Kuroi."
Riko's head snapped up, eyes wide.
"Before we even met you, we asked ourselves: what if the Star Plasma Vessel refuses assimilation? What then?" Geto lowered his gaze to the tree's roots. "And our answer was: then we cancel it. Even our teacher hinted at it. He may look simple-minded, but inside he's thoughtful. He told us we had to realize assimilation itself is a kind of sin."
Geto let out a quiet laugh.
"Even if it meant going to war with Tengen, it wouldn't matter. Because we're the strongest."
"Our mission is to protect you. And how we protect you—that's for us to decide."
He turned to her, smiling. "No matter what you choose, Riko, we'll safeguard your future. Whether as a normal girl… or as a sorcerer."
"…" Riko's expression twisted with conflict.
From birth, everyone had told her she was the Star Plasma Vessel. That she had to live carefully, cautiously, all for this day.
Her parents' deaths—she could barely even recall them. So she never thought she felt lonely, or sad.
She had believed that even if assimilation meant eternal separation, she would be fine. That pain would fade, loneliness would be forgotten someday.
But now…
"But… but… I want to stay with everyone!" Tears spilled down her cheeks. "I want to see more places, experience more things!"
"I… I really do!"
She wiped at her eyes with her sleeves, but the words kept pouring out.
"I never managed to scare Soujun."
"I never tried on Gojo's sunglasses."
"I want to see what you look like with your bangs tied up."
"And I still haven't told my friends about all the places we went, about how amazing they really were."
Geto sighed softly and held out his hand. "Then go back, Riko."
She scrubbed at her face, but the tears wouldn't stop. She had steeled herself for assimilation—but vacations at the beach, new friends, whale-watching at the aquarium… How could she let go of such things?
Her hand reached for his.
It didn't matter if she was crying. It didn't matter if assimilation was her fate, or what became of the world.
All that mattered was this moment.
She lifted her face and smiled, pure and radiant. All she wanted was to take that hand.
"Mm!"
Bang.
A gunshot split the air.
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