Evening – Outside Nino's Apartment Complex,
Nino Nakano walked beside Gojo Satoru, her steps measured, slowed, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. She wanted to call her sisters, to reassure them she had returned safely, but when she glanced up at Gojo, she realized he wasn't paying attention to her.
His stance was unusual—feet planted firmly, body slightly angled, head tilting toward the far side of the street. Even through the blindfold, a tense aura radiated from him.
"Shall I head up first, Gojo-kun?" Nino asked softly. She waited for his usual playful reply—but there was none.
"…Gojo?" she whispered.
Still, he didn't look at her. His lips moved silently, muttering something under his breath.
"Five…"
Nino froze, her pulse quickening. Something about the way he whispered made the hairs on her arms stand on end. The usually calm and teasing man beside her had shifted into something else entirely.
From across the street, a shadow detached itself from the darkness.
A tall figure in a dark-blue suit strode forward confidently, red-framed glasses catching the streetlights. His movements were sharp and deliberate, his expression both serious and playful, like someone ready for a duel yet enjoying the drama.
Nino's heart thumped.
The man wasn't here by coincidence—this was deliberate. Her instincts, honed through the odd occurrences of the past few days, told her she needed to stay back.
The two men stopped just a few feet apart, staring each other down. A tense, almost tangible silence stretched across the street.
For five seconds, the city seemed to pause—traffic slowed, pedestrians glanced nervously, and even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Then, unexpectedly, both men erupted into laughter.
"Hahaha!"
"Hahaha!"
Nino blinked. Her confusion grew. Was this… a fight? Or some bizarre prank?
Gojo, arms crossed lazily, addressed the newcomer with a mix of curiosity and annoyance.
"Hey, Arima, what brings you to Tokyo?"
The man in the blue suit—Arima Tsuchimikado—thrust out his chest dramatically.
"Waaah, Gojo-kun! Why are you treating me like this? I came all the way from Kyoto to see you! Aren't you happy?"
Gojo's blindfolded eyes didn't waver. "If you're happy, then fine. If not… go back to Kyoto."
Arima's expression shifted from mock grief to genuine shock. "Huh? Why are you like this!" His voice carried through the quiet street, sounding both accusatory and exaggerated.
Gojo's arms tightened over his chest. "Listen, Arima, I'm trying to enjoy a quiet, salted-fish life. If you're here looking for trouble, don't complain when I get… ruthless."
Arima took an involuntary step back. "It's not about trouble!" he said quickly, adjusting his glasses and flustered like a man caught in the wrong scene.
Gojo tilted his head slightly. "Then… what?"
Arima's gaze flickered. "The… Kanō family. Kyoto Onmyoji. You know?"
Gojo raised an eyebrow. "Kanō family? Kyoto Onmyoji?"
"Yes! The famous Kanō family. I came here to discuss them!" Arima's words tumbled over themselves, his nervous energy contrasting sharply with his otherwise dramatic posture.
Nino stayed silent, watching the exchange unfold. Her heart beat fast, partly from fear, partly from awe. These were no ordinary men—this was a confrontation between two of the most capable Onmyoji she had ever sensed. Every word, every gesture, carried weight beyond the ordinary world.
Arima's eyes darted toward her.
Nino realized immediately that he had recognized her presence. She swallowed, stepping slightly back.
"Gojo-kun… I'll head up first," she said, her voice calm yet firm. "Thank you for today."
Without waiting for a reply, she moved toward the apartment entrance, her hand on her phone. Gojo didn't stop her. He simply tilted his head and called after her:
"Take care."
The moment she disappeared into the lobby, Arima's expression changed again. A smirk spread across his face, amused.
"Hehe… Gojo-kun, you've already got such a beautiful girl by your side in Tokyo. Don't you think it's time to introduce me?"
Gojo's response was lazy but sharp.
"Arima, I'm not in the mood."
He casually pulled out his phone, as if preparing to scroll through something mundane. But the energy around him changed instantly. The city seemed to shrink in scope; even the distant hum of traffic felt muted under the weight of his presence.
Arima staggered, hands raised defensively. "Wait! Hey! I was joking—don't hurt me!"
Gojo's casual tilt of the head, the faint grin curling at the corners of his lips, spoke volumes: one wrong move, and Arima would regret it.
The absurdity of the scene struck Nino—
Arima on one knee, hands raised in exaggerated submission, while Gojo stood calm and unshaken, scrolling through his phone like nothing was happening. And yet, she could feel the immense power radiating from both of them.
The city lights reflected off the river nearby, stretching the shadows of the two men across the street like enormous specters. The tension between them was palpable, but beneath it all was something else—mutual recognition, respect, and perhaps an unspoken history that only they understood.
Nino's pulse gradually slowed as she pressed her phone to her chest. Her mind raced, but one thought was constant: she trusted him. Gojo Satoru had protected her, guided her, and even in this world where power dictated the rules, she knew she could rely on him.
Arima finally rose, brushing off his suit with exaggerated care, though the sharpness in his gaze remained. He had been reminded again: Gojo's calm dominance was absolute. He wasn't someone to challenge lightly.
"Never change, huh?" Arima muttered under his breath, a mixture of frustration and admiration.
Gojo leaned back slightly, the city lights dancing across his blindfolded face. "Of course not. Being me is exhausting enough already."
The night deepened, quiet except for the distant hum of life in Tokyo.
Nino entered her apartment, heart still racing, realizing that her ordinary city life was far closer to the world of Onmyoji than she had ever imagined.
.....
Outside, on the street,
Gojo and Arima lingered, their unspoken dialogue continuing through tension, body language, and quiet calculation. For Nino, it was simply another evening—but the hidden world around her had grown infinitely larger, stranger, and more dangerous than she could ever have predicted.
And as the city lights flickered over the quiet streets, Nino Nakano pressed her phone against her chest, taking a deep breath.
One thing was certain: she would trust Gojo, no matter what shadows waited in the darkness beyond.
...
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