Interlude — The Nightmare
Kishibe ran.
The field stretched endlessly, littered with red spider lilies. Their petals curled like open wounds, brushing against his legs as he moved, barefoot, breathless. The sky above was colorless, neither day nor night.
He stopped only when he saw her.
The little girl.
She stood with her back to him, clutching a tattered stuffed rabbit. Her head turned slowly, eyes black and empty. Farther off, his mother sat on the edge of a broken shrine, lighting a cigarette. She didn't look at him. Smoke coiled in the air like curses.
"You still alive?" she asked.
Kishibe tried to speak, but his voice was gone. The wind picked up. The lilies burst into flame, and suddenly he was alone.
The dream ended in silence.
He woke before dawn, covered in sweat, blade across his chest like a grave marker. He didn't try to go back to sleep.
---
Morning – A Mission on the Horizon
Yaga called them in early.
The sunlight hadn't touched the training grounds yet. Crows gathered on the power lines like omens. Kishibe stood beside Geto, his coat half-worn and hair damp from a rushed shower. Gojo, of course, was late—he arrived twirling a pair of sunglasses.
"Sit," Yaga said, his voice more tired than usual. "This one's different."
He handed out the sealed reports, the edges marked with Master Tengen's sigil.
"Special escort mission. High priority. This isn't public yet, but Master Tengen has located the next Star Plasma Vessel. Your job is to protect her and bring her safely to the tomb."
"Star Plasma Vessel?" Gojo echoed, mouth twisting. "Is that a real thing or one of those ancient myths?"
"It's real," Geto said quietly, already halfway through the file. "And the girl's name is Riko Amanai."
"She's just a high schooler," Kishibe murmured. He read faster. "She has no idea what she's in for."
"Which is why you're all going to keep her safe," Yaga said. "You'll be briefed more by Master Tengen tomorrow. Until then—don't spread this."
Kishibe closed the file. "Who's our backup?"
Yaga hesitated. "There isn't one."
---
Later That Day — Under the Sky
They sat on the rooftop of the west wing, an old habit Gojo had refused to break.
Kishibe lay flat on his back, arm over his eyes. Geto read a book about Buddhist philosophies. Gojo balanced a stick of Pocky between his lips and kicked his feet.
"We should ditch," Gojo said suddenly.
"From the school?" Geto asked, not looking up.
"From everything. What if we took Riko, vanished, raised her on a beach somewhere?"
Kishibe snorted. "You wouldn't last a week without fast food."
Gojo grinned. "True. But still… it feels off, right? Like this job isn't what it looks like."
"Because it isn't," Geto replied. "The more I read, the more I think this girl isn't just a vessel—she's bait."
Kishibe sat up slowly. "You think someone's coming?"
"I think someone's already watching."
A long silence followed. Even Gojo didn't joke.
---
Sunset — The Unspoken
Shoko joined them that evening. She brought a pack of cigarettes and dropped down next to Kishibe without a word.
"Thought you quit," Gojo teased.
"Thought you shut up sometimes," she replied.
Kishibe accepted a smoke, and they lit up in silence.
Shoko exhaled. "Something's wrong with this one. I don't know what yet. But I've stitched up too many sorcerers not to recognize the air before blood."
Kishibe didn't reply. He watched the horizon.
Geto closed his book. "So we stay close. We don't split. We fight like a unit."
Gojo tapped his temple. "All that firepower, baby. Nothing gets past us."
But even he couldn't fake a smile this time.
---
That Night — Kishibe Alone
Back in his room, Kishibe stared at the ceiling.
He tried to picture what kind of sorcerer he was becoming. The man who nearly died for Gojo. The man who let a girl slip through his fingers. The man who saw ghosts in every dream.
"I don't care if I die," he whispered. "Just let it matter."
His blade lay beside him, freshly cleaned.
Tomorrow, they would meet the girl named Riko Amanai.
And the world would start to change.