"Is a Veil really that necessary?"
Satoru asks, holding a basketball inside the indoor court while we wait for Suguru and Miko to arrive.
Shoko is sitting on the side, lazily cleaning the smudges off Satoru's blue glasses before sliding them onto her own face to see how they look.
"It's not like normies can see them," he continues, spinning the ball on one finger.
"They can't see cursed spirits or techniques anyway." He suddenly lunges forward, jumping high into the air for a clinical jump shot.
"I don't know, man," I say, pushing off the floor.
My timing is perfect. I meet him at the apex of his jump, my hand slamming into the ball to block the shot. "Whether it's right for normal people to know about curses or not... think about it. If they could see them, it would be like Marvel or DC comics. We'd be known as superheroes."
I land lightly, the ball bouncing away toward the entrance. "And who knows? In the future, maybe people will find a way to eliminate cursed spirits for good if they actually know what they're looking at."
Satoru slumps onto the ground and leans back on his elbows. He looks at the ceiling, the light reflecting off the glasses Shoko just dropped back onto his face.
"You are absolutely rig—"
"It's so wrong."
A new voice cuts Satoru off mid-sentence. Turning toward the sound, we see Suguru and Miko walking toward us from the entrance.
Suguru looks composed, though there's a slight edge to his gaze—he's clearly been listening.
"The strongest deterrent against cursed spirits is the mental calm of the populace," Suguru says, his voice smooth and convincing. He reaches down, picks up the ball I just blocked, and starts dribbling with a practiced rhythm.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
"That's why we conceal the threat they can't even see," he continues, his eyes tracking the hoop. "Exposing them to the truth would only breed more fear, and more fear breeds more curses. It's a self-destructive cycle."
He begins a focused run toward the basket, his movements fluid. "And that's not al—"
"Yeah, yeah, we get it!" Satoru suddenly blurs into motion, his speed practically a cheat code. He intercepts Suguru, swiping the ball mid-dribble with a cheeky grin.
He sprints toward the basket and jumps to score. The gym goes quiet for a second, the rhythmic thump-thump of the basketball replaced by the heavy tension between Satoru and Suguru.
"Looking after the weak is so exhausting, really," Satoru sighs, turning back toward us as the ball bounces lazily behind him.
Suguru doesn't move. His expression remains composed, but his eyes are hard. "Survival of the fittest is the law of nature, but survival of the weakest—that is how society should be. The weak help each other and discourage anyone who is too strong. Listen, Satoru: Jujutsu exists to protect non-sorcerers."
"Is that your moral argument?" Satoru asks, his voice dripping with boredom. "I hate moral arguments."
"What?" Suguru's voice has a sharp edge now.
Satoru leans down, picks up the ball, and holds it with one hand. "Assigning 'reason' and 'responsibility' to strength is just what weak people do."
He casually flicks his wrist, sending the ball in a perfect arc from his position.
Bamm.
It drops through the net without hitting the rim.
"Quit making up bullshit to make yourself feel good," Satoru says, finally looking Suguru in the eye. "Even Emiya is better than you."
"Hey! What do you mean by 'even Emiya'?" I bark, crossing my arms.
Suguru turns toward me, his expression unreadable, his gaze heavy with the weight of his own convictions. "And what are your thoughts in this? What do you think about jujutsu existing to protect non-sorcerers, Emiya?"
I ponder it for a moment, the silence of the gym stretching between us. "Although helping the weak is good, we shouldn't forget that we're humans too," I say. "We have our own lives. If we're saving them, it shouldn't be because it's our responsibility; it should be because we want to. I'm with Satoru on this. If you have strength, why should you have to think it's strictly for the sake of others?"
I pause, a smirk tugging at my lips as I drop a line from a movie I saw once. "With great power, the responsibility greatly diminishes. It's a famous quote from the movie Tarantula-Man."
I continue, "If you do it because you're told you have to, you'll eventually start to resent the people you're protecting. But if you do it because you choose to... then it actually means something."
"Hey, hey, you two—Satoru and Emiya-kun. You guys shouldn't make fun of Suguru-kun's ideals." Miko's voice cuts in; she's now standing beside Shoko, looking at us with a disapproving frown.
"You also have a say in this, Miko?" Satoru asks, his eyes tracking her behind those blue lenses.
"I think Suguru-kun's ideals are very noble," she continues, her expression softening. "Some people are just that good. They always think about others more than themselves."
"Miko, but jujutsu sorcerers aren't saints. It's our job. Did you guys forget we're doing this for money?" Shoko says beside her, turning to face toward her. "And I think Emiya's POV is the most correct—"
"What are you guys arguing about?"
Yaga-sensei's voice booms from the entrance, cutting us off instantly. We all freeze.
"It's nothing, Sensei," I say quickly.
Everyone turns their heads in opposite directions, whistling or staring at the ceiling—a group of five people who each have their own opinions. The air in the gym is still thick with the friction of our conflicting philosophies.
Sensei stares at us for a long, quiet moment, his sunglasses hiding his eyes. He sighs, a heavy sound that seems to acknowledge the headaches we're about to cause him.
"There is a very important mission for all of you, from the highest boss, Tengen-sama himself. Follow me."