Lena stepped out of the subway car well after seven in the evening.
Her workday was officially over, and all she wanted right now was to get home, kick off her shoes, change into an oversized T-shirt, and start a new episode of her favorite series. Ideally—with a box of her equally beloved pineapple pizza.
The plan was perfect.
Except reality proved far more discouraging.
Her legs had, traitorously, led her to the entrance of a shopping mall…
The enormous building in front of her shone with lights. People bustled back and forth, laughing, dragging shopping bags, as if Friday evenings were created solely for retail therapy.
It was the last place Lena wanted to be at this hour. Especially considering she had to travel across half the city just to get here, draining the last reserves of her patience and energy.
But, unfortunately, she had no choice.
All because thirteen years ago, her parents had decided that one child wasn't enough. That's how her younger sister came into her life.
The main source of chaos, problems, and chronic headaches in her life to this very day.
Alice, Lena's younger sister, had been begging her for this for almost two weeks.
At first, it was subtle hints. Then—pleading looks. Then came the arguments: "You love me, don't you?" and "It's really, really important." And finally—a blatant, silent tantrum of sulking and disappointment.
Lena had held firm the entire time.
But in the end, under the relentless pressure of texts, voice messages, and dramatic sighs, she had no choice but to capitulate.
It was, of course, about the latest cult obsession in Alice's life—her favorite anime, Jujutsu Kaisen.
Today, the shopping mall in their city was hosting a sale of exclusive merchandise for this anime and manga, and Alice desperately wanted to get her hands on one single item from the collection. Just one, as she solemnly swore.
'A Sukuna figure with limited jaw movement.'
Lena smirked as she read the name on her phone. Alice had spammed her with photos of this very figure all morning—shots from different angles, under different lighting, accompanied by enthusiastic captions and a ridiculous number of exclamation points.
On the screen appeared the menacing pink-haired character—Sukuna—with a predatory grin and slightly open mouth. According to the description, his jaw 'moved slightly,' which, apparently, was supposed to justify the price—one that made Lena's eye twitch.
She looked at this absurd object and couldn't believe it.
"Seriously?…"
Were all anime fans really like this? Did they actually buy this… junk, proudly calling it 'merch'? Display it on shelves and dust it off religiously?
Not only did the figure look, frankly, ridiculous, but it also cost about half of Lena's monthly bills.
And for what, exactly?
"I could order the same thing for half the price from some Chinese website!…" Lena muttered under her breath, reopening the photo and squinting skeptically at the price tag.
No, seriously. What's the difference? A brighter box? A 'limited edition' sticker? Some special aura reserved for people who stood in line for hours?
In other words, Lena was genuinely, deeply irritated. She didn't want to spend her precious evening after work, didn't want to part with her hard-earned money, and certainly didn't want to participate in this frankly ridiculous escapade.
And yet…
She was here anyway.
Damn it.
At twenty-six, how had she even ended up in a shopping mall on a weekday evening for an anime figurine?
Somewhere along the way, her life had clearly taken a wrong turn.
On the first floor of the mall, a huge, brightly lit display stood, covered with posters and cardboard cutouts of characters. A long queue had formed around it.
Lena scanned the crowd with the practiced eye of someone used to evaluating lines of clients every day at work. She tried to count—ten, twenty, forty… After a hundred, she lost track completely.
God.
Did all these people really have nothing better to do this evening?
The display featured some guys in strange outfits. One, in particular, stood out: white-haired, wearing an eye patch, with a wide, almost smug smile.
Lena squinted.
"Ah, of course…" she muttered. "There he is."
Apparently, this was the guy she had seen on Alice's phone wallpaper more than once. And not just on the wallpaper—there were posters of him all over her sister's room.
She also remembered his name, vaguely—something like Gojo… yes, exactly, Satoru Gojo.
The main star of Jujutsu Kaisen, as Alice had excitedly explained more than once.
Alice was, in general, an avid fan of Japanese animation. Forums, theories, episode breakdowns, limited editions, preorders, release dates—she understood all of it better than Lena understood her work spreadsheets.
Lena herself had no clue.
In her childhood, the only thing on TV had been Sailor Moon, and that was basically the extent of her knowledge of Japanese animation. And even then, she mostly remembered glitter, bows, and long monologues about the power of friendship.
Alice, on the other hand, rattled off titles at such a speed it was as if she were taking an exam: Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba, Attack on Titan, and dozens of other series. Lena listened halfheartedly, nodded, and tried to appear interested.
But honestly, all that stuck in her head was this: lots of screaming, blood, dramatic stares, and monsters…
To her, an adult and an insurance company accountant, it was completely uninteresting.
And specifically regarding this anime—the one whose merchandise she was now waiting in this cursed line for…
From Alice's explanations, Lena had understood roughly this: the anime was about sorcerers who fight monsters born from human emotions.
The main character—the pink-haired guy from the box, whose figure she now suffered in line for—had once swallowed the finger of an ancient villain. Accidentally, of course. And now that very villain lived inside him, occasionally trying to take over his body and bring about the end of the world.
There was also an incredibly powerful teacher with an eye patch who, according to Alice, was "literally OP" and defeats everyone.
If you didn't think too much about it, it all sounded… well, strange. A finger, ancient evil, a demon roommate—like a story made up by people with very specific imaginations.
But Alice insisted it was actually a deep story—about friendship, death, choices, responsibility, and "super intense drama, you just don't get it!" She said the last part with such tragedy that it was as if Lena personally insulted all of Japanese art.
Lena had just shrugged. Maybe she really didn't get it.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice nearby.
"Excuse me, are you the last one?"
Lena blinked and turned. Behind her stood a boy holding a bag from the anime store.
"…Yes," she replied after a short pause.
The boy nodded and fell behind her, immediately burying himself in his phone.
Lena took a deep breath. It seemed there was no turning back. She had no choice but to accept it and take her rightful place at the end of the endless line.
Although she didn't consider herself old—after all, twenty-six wasn't even thirty—right now, she felt exactly like that.
Around her, in this endless line, were mostly teenagers. Thirteen, fourteen, at most sixteen. Essentially, the entire age range of her sister.
They laughed loudly, discussed scenes, argued over who was stronger, and passionately defended why "that moment" was genius. Many had pins of the characters on their backpacks, hoodies with prints, some even wearing black eye patches—obviously emulating the white-haired teacher.
Among all this lively crowd, Lena noticed only a few adults. Their faces were suspiciously familiar—tired, resigned, faintly saying "I'm not here by choice."
Lena nodded to them mentally.
Her allies in misery.
She sighed deeply. She really did not want to be here.
But Alice had said it would be her birthday present. And her birthday was in a month. And "she didn't want anything else, really, really."
Alice herself couldn't come for an objective reason.
She was training for rhythmic gymnastics, with competitions coming up soon. She had daily practices, and of course, her parents would never allow her to skip training for "some toy."
So there was only one thing left for her—tearfully begging her older sister.
And here Lena stood.
Clenching her teeth, wasting her precious evening, accepting that she was about to spend hours of her life on this nonsense.
Finally, after almost three hours, her turn came.
It was a nightmare.
In that time, Lena had checked her work email a thousand times, scrolled through the news feed, pondered the meaning of life and death, and nearly resigned herself to her fate.
And now—after what felt like an eternity—she was finally at the counter.
The cashier—a girl with equally tired eyes—looked at customers with the expression of someone who had endured hundreds of the same interactions and mentally detached from it all.
She took the box and scanned the barcode.
"J.J.K. Sukuna figure, limited edition," she said monotonously. "That'll be eight hundred dollars."
Lena felt something painfully tighten inside her.
Eight hundred dollars.
For a plastic man with a movable jaw.
She exhaled deeply, trying to preserve her dignity, and gritted her teeth. Alternative ways to spend that money flashed through her mind: groceries for a week, a new sweater, half the utility bills…
But instead, her hand was already reaching for her card.
Reluctantly, Lena paid and took the bag.
Before putting the purchase in her bag, she spun the box in her hands.
On the cover was the pink-haired guy with facial scars and a menacing grin—Sukuna himself.
"Well, what a face," Lena muttered quietly.
She turned the box a bit more, examining the labels and the shiny 'Limited Edition' sticker.
What nonsense…
Did Alice really want this so badly?
Lena truly could not understand the interests of today's kids.
But, at this point, it was no longer her problem.
She had done what she had to. Bought the damn toy. Mission accomplished.
Now there was only one thing left—catch the subway and go home. An hour and a half, and she could finally kick off her shoes and collapse on the couch.
At least tomorrow was a day off, no early wake-up.
With these thoughts, Lena headed toward the mall exit. She turned, took a step—just one—and the world around her seemed to go insane.
At first, she thought it was just fatigue, her imagination.
But…
A low, vibrating hum.
A deep, resonant hum from above that made her ears pop unpleasantly. Barely audible, yet tangible, like some massive engine had started somewhere above the ceiling.
Lena froze.
People around her exchanged glances.
The hum grew louder.
She instinctively looked up.
The mall's ceiling—the huge glass dome that had been softly bathed in evening light moments ago—shuddered.
The glass panels vibrated subtly, the metal beams creaked. Tiny cracks spider-webbed across the glass.
One. Two. Dozens at once.
"What the hell is happening?.." Lena exhaled, eyes locked on the ceiling.
No answer came.
A deafening crack sounded—so loud her ears rang. In the next second, a huge section of the glass dome, along with metal fragments, plummeted downward.
Everything happened too fast.
Lena watched as people around her panicked. Someone screamed. Someone fell over a stranger's bag. Someone ran, shoving everyone out of the way.
"Earthquake!"
"Terrorist attack!"
The noise was overwhelming. Screams, shattering glass, crashing metal.
Shards swirled in the air, glittering in the light like icy rain.
Lena still stood as if in slow motion.
She didn't even take a step.
One of the debris pieces—a heavy, sharp-edged fragment—fell straight onto her.
She didn't feel the impact.
No pain. No scream.
The world around her simply went dark.
And then, there was only darkness.