The wind was sharp across Kyoto Jujutsu High, trees shifting under the weight of approaching conflict. Students from both schools lined the compound, a mix of old tension and new eyes. Gojo stood tall beside Yaga, shades crooked, smiling like a man ready to kickstart disaster for fun.
"Everyone excited?" he grinned. "Group battle begins soon. Let's see if the Kyoto kids brought their personalities today."
Across from him, Principal Gakuganji scowled like someone pissed in his cursed tea. Beside him, Utahime sighed for the tenth time that hour, already exhausted by her students' murder-lust.
Maki cracked her knuckles. Panda stretched lazily. Inumaki said "Salmon." Megumi gave a quiet nod. Nobara tied her hair up.
Yuji Itadori wasn't there. Not yet. He would arrive mid-event, much to everyone's shock. Right now, his absence left a weight in the air, especially around Megumi, whose shoulders held that silence like a familiar ghost.
On the Kyoto side, Aoi Todo flexed dramatically, shirt somehow already off.
"MY TYPE IS A TALL WOMAN WITH A BIG A—"
"No one asked," Mai cut in.
"This is a sacred battleground," Mechamaru buzzed. "Let's not embarrass ourselves."
Momo adjusted her broom. Her eyes scanned the treetops.
She felt something.
Something out of place.
Gojo was grinning too much. That usually meant chaos was about to show up uninvited.
Yaga raised his hand. "Begin the event."
The Kyoto students scattered like trained assassins, precision in every step. The Tokyo squad followed, more chaotic but no less deadly. Megumi vanished into the woods. Maki led Panda with a smirk. Nobara stomped forward, holding a hammer like it owed her rent.
The group battle had begun.
And then — somewhere off-course, deep in the cursed zone of the battleground — the air shimmered.
A flash of red.
A burst of spiritual static.
And a shopping cart came crashing down a slope at 40 miles an hour, loaded with snacks, liquor, and four screaming idiots.
Spillglass was steering with his feet. Juno clung to the back, cackling. Flint was asleep inside the cart. Junpei was screaming for his life.
It slammed into a cursed tree. The snacks exploded.
The cart flipped. Flint remained asleep.
Thorne landed on his feet behind them all, trench coat fluttering like he was cool and had nothing to do with the last 30 seconds of disaster.
The dust settled.
Momo, perched above, stared down in horrified confusion.
"…what in the unholy f*ck."
Gojo's voice echoed from across the field."Whaaat? I didn't invite them. I swear."
Father Asher appeared next, walking calmly through the cursed fog like he was showing up for Sunday service. He lit a cigarette off a cursed flame spirit and said, "I smell heresy."
From a rooftop, the Monk watched — unseen, arms crossed.
His disciples whispered beside him.
"They have arrived."
The Monk did not respond. He merely stared.
Below, the battle had paused.
The Crimson Communion had officially entered the Kyoto Goodwill Event.
Flint woke up inside the cart, raised a bottle of cursed juice, and yelled:
"WHO'S READY TO TRAUMA BOND?!"
No one knew what was happening anymore.
The Monk exhaled once."…Soon."