Maki looked down at her hands. They weren't bruised, bloodied, or hardened by years of brutal training. They looked soft. Ordinary.
Warm fingers slipped between hers.
Turning her head, she found Ren walking beside her.
No tactical gear. No burned jacket stained with blood.
Just a light gray sweater and dark hair shifting gently in the breeze. That familiar smirk rested easily across his face, calm and effortless for once.
Whole.
At peace.
A thumb brushed across her knuckles.
Laughter echoed farther down the riverside path.
Maki froze.
A little girl skipped along the pavement ahead of them, sneakers tapping lightly against the concrete. She wore a bright yellow sundress. Dark green hair bounced wildly around her face, messy and untamed, while Ren's expressive eyes sparkled with excitement.
The child spun around with a huge, gap-toothed grin.
"Mooom!" she yelled, waving both arms. "Hurry up! Dad walks too slow!"
Something inside Maki cracked apart.
She had never allowed herself to imagine this kind of life.
Everything had always revolved around survival. Getting stronger. Proving the Zen'in clan wrong. Crushing the family name beneath her heel.
But here, with sunlight warming her skin and Ren's hand wrapped around hers, none of that felt important anymore.
Not the clan.
Not sorcery.
Not revenge.
Just this.
A quiet home.
A boring walk beside the river.
A little girl with green hair complaining about slow parents.
A peaceful life with the idiot who cooked her noodles and bought her clothes.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
"I'm coming," Maki whispered, voice trembling.
Ren squeezed her hand again.
That same soft smile lingered on his face, almost sad now, like he already understood what this place really was.
Then the world started burning.
The riverbank blackened into ash.
The yellow sundress crumbled into glowing embers.
The child's laughter twisted apart and dissolved into the monstrous roar of Jogo's flames.
Reality snapped back violently.
Hot pain crashed into Maki's back.
Her body jerked, but no scream came out. Instead, she buried her face deeper against the unburned part of Ren's chest and held on tighter.
Fingers dug into the torn fabric of his jacket like it was the last piece of that dream left in the world.
I love you.
The thought vanished into the fire.
...
Maki's grip slowly loosened as her body went limp against him.
At the same time, the agony tearing through Ren's ribs and burned flesh suddenly disappeared beneath a wave of cold numbness.
Adrenaline drowned everything else.
Death felt inevitable now.
That part didn't matter anymore.
But dying beneath Jogo while the curse laughed?
No.
Ren forced his shattered left arm to move and shoved Maki down beneath him, shielding her burned body with his own.
A bloodied hand lifted toward the scorched clearing.
Several feet away, Nightfall rested in the ash.
The pitch-black scabbard trembled.
Then it shot off the ground and slammed directly into his palm.
Fingers locked around the hilt as Ren dragged himself upright just enough to cover Maki completely.
Jogo laughed.
The sound lasted less than a second.
Then the atmosphere changed.
The blistering heat vanished instantly, replaced by an overwhelming pressure so cold it felt suffocating.
The sky distorted overhead.
Satoru Gojo dropped into the center of the ruined clearing.
No blindfold covered those crystalline blue eyes.
One glance took in everything—the burned forest, the melted ground, and the broken bodies of his students.
Every trace of playfulness disappeared.
For the first time since the fight began, panic flashed across Jogo's face.
The Disaster Curse staggered backward.
Gojo raised one hand and pointed directly at him.
A crimson spark ignited at his fingertip.
"Cursed Technique Reversal: Red."
Jogo reacted instantly.
Massive slabs of volcanic rock ripped from the earth, stacking together into a desperate wall of reinforced stone. Every ounce of cursed energy left in his body flooded into the barrier.
The red sphere fired.
The explosion tore through the barricade effortlessly.
Volcanic rock disintegrated.
The blast carved a trench through the forest floor and launched Jogo through the shattered tree line, body mangled as he crashed into the dirt.
Gojo stepped forward.
Cursed energy surged around his raised hand, preparing to finish the curse completely.
"Sensei."
The voice barely carried through the settling debris.
Gojo stopped and looked down.
Ren struggled to stay conscious. One arm hung uselessly at his side while the other remained protectively pressed against Maki's burned back.
"Maki…" Blood spilled from his mouth as he spoke. "She's hurt bad. We don't have time."
Silence settled for a beat.
Then the murderous aura around Gojo vanished instantly.
Killing a Disaster Curse no longer mattered.
Saving his students did.
Without hesitation, Gojo knelt beside them, one hand resting on Ren's shoulder while the other touched Maki's scorched dress.
"Hold on," he said quietly.