Two days after the island incident, Arata finally returned to Tokyo.
The sun had already dipped behind the skyline when he stepped into the training compound. A warm evening breeze moved through the open courtyard, carrying the faint hum of the city.
Gojo was already waiting for him, lounging against a railing like he owned the place — which, to be fair, he might as well have. His blindfold was pushed up slightly, revealing the faint smirk on his face.
"Took you long enough," Gojo said. "What, stopped for souvenirs on the way back?"
Arata dropped his small travel bag beside the wall and let out a quiet breath. "The cleanup took some time."
Gojo tilted his head. "Cleanup? You mean the part where the government is losing its mind over an entire island being half missing?"
Arata didn't answer. He looked out toward the city lights, his expression unreadable.
Gojo grinned wider. "Relax. I'm not judging. You did good. I saw the reports. The curse you fought wasn't something anyone could've handled cleanly."
"It wasn't clean," Arata said simply. "But it's over."
Gojo stretched his arms lazily. "You always say that like it's a bad thing. Anyway, since you're back, I should probably tell you something."
Arata turned to face him.
"The higher-ups want to meet you," Gojo said. "A formal invitation this time. Not a demand."
Arata blinked once. "They finally decided to talk?"
Gojo chuckled. "Seems so. They saw the video from the island. Let's just say you've… left an impression."
Arata didn't speak for a moment. Then he said, "What do they want?"
Gojo shrugged. "Probably to size you up. Maybe to figure out how not to get on your bad side. You've got options, you know — ignore them or show up and make them nervous."
Arata thought for a long second. "I'll go," he said finally.
Gojo raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"I want to see them for myself," Arata replied. "It's better to know what kind of people they are."
Gojo's grin widened again. "You sound like me now. Alright then. I'll set it up."
He turned to leave, waving lazily over his shoulder. "Try not to destroy any more islands before the meeting, yeah?"
Arata didn't respond — only exhaled slowly and sat down on the low concrete edge of the courtyard. The silence after Gojo left was relaxing and calm.
The silence was broken by the vibration of his phone.
Unknown number.
Arata hesitated, then answered.
"Hello?"
"Is this Arata?" a man's voice asked. The tone was calm, low, and steady, but there was a faint emotion behind it — relief.
"Yes. Who's this?"
"This is Gabriel Haines," the voice said. "I'm a jujutsu sorcerer… from the United States."
Arata straightened slightly. "The American special grade."
"So you've heard of me," Gabriel replied. There was a pause. "I wanted to thank you. For saving my family."
Arata said quietly, "Your wife and son are safe. That's what matters."
"It matters," Gabriel said, "And I am grateful for that. You saved them from almost a certain death. I owe you more than I can ever repay."
Arata didn't answer.
Gabriel continued, his voice lower now. "It was their first time in Japan. They were just visiting, and I thought it would be safe. I didn't expect things to go so wrong. The Japanese government… they weren't able to protect them. I don't blame anyone directly, but I can't trust their system anymore. They let something like that happen."
Arata stayed silent, listening.
"But that doesn't include you," Gabriel said firmly. "You're different. You didn't hesitate. You just did what you did. You acted. And that's what matters to me"
He took a slow breath on the other side of the line. "You saved what mattered most to me. My wife and my son are my life, Arata. You gave them back to me. That means I owe you more than my life. I owe you everything."
Arata leaned forward slightly. His tone was calm but direct. "Then I'll accept your gratitude. I don't need you to owe me, but I'll accept what you said."
There was a faint chuckle from Gabriel. "You're honest. Most people try to sound modest."
"I don't see the point," Arata said simply. "You mean what you say. I respect that."
For a while, neither of them spoke. Then Gabriel said, "You're strong. Too strong for your age. I saw the aftermath of that fight—few could've done that and I could count them on my two fingers-now that includes you. The destruction that followed... it wasn't your fault. When special grades fight, that's how it goes."
Arata nodded, even though he knew Gabriel couldn't see it. "That's what happened. The fight was too intense. The island couldn't handle it."
"I figured as much," Gabriel replied. "When I fought my first major curse years ago, the entire forest around us turned to ash. It's normal for things to end that way. That's what power like ours does. It's clean but hardly controlled."
Arata laughed.
"Listen," Gabriel continued, "it's almost December. The holidays are coming up. My family and I would like you to come to America for Christmas and New Year. Stay with us. No obligations, no formalities — just as our guest."
Arata was quiet for a while. The offer was unexpected — warm, even.
"You don't have to decide right away," Gabriel said. "But it'd mean a lot to us."
Arata looked at the city lights again — the faint reflection of stars above the skyline. Then he said, "I'll come."
"Really?" Gabriel sounded surprised.
"Yes," Arata said simply. "I'll come."
There was a pause on the line — then a quiet laugh. "Good. My son will be thrilled."
"I'll arrange the timing later," Arata said.
"Take your time," Gabriel replied. "And Arata… thank you. Again. For everything."
Arata nodded slightly, though the man couldn't see it. "You're welcome."
The call ended with a soft click.
Arata lowered the phone and stood there for a long moment, looking up at the Tokyo sky.
The wind had turned cooler. Somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed faintly before fading away.
He thought about the meeting with the higher-ups, about the shifting politics, about what Zenin had said in that unseen conference room.
"It's a start. With this power and influence I can change the storyline-a real change and it will only continue to grow."