Eight years after the Battle of Shinjuku—
On an abandoned stretch of Shinjuku's wasteland, where concrete lay cracked and the city had long since stopped breathing, two figures stood facing one another.
The wind carried dust between them.
"Nowadays," the old swordsman said calmly, "Sukuna, Yuji, Yuta, Gojo… they're considered the strongest."
The second figure tilted his head slightly, as if searching through memories long buried.
"Can't say I recognize those names," he replied. "Not from my time, at least."
The first man tightened his stance. Faint cursed energy flickered around him like dying embers.
"You sure you wanna do this?" the second asked. "A lot has changed in me over the years."
"I know," the first said, a tired smile forming on his lips. "I just want to try one last time… before age takes me away."
The second figure slowly raised his hands, settling into a fighting stance.
"…Fine."
There was a pause.
"But before that," the first added quietly, "just so you know—
I still miss those days, John."
---
26 Years Earlier
When curses weren't public knowledge.
When Shinjuku wasn't a graveyard.
When Shibuya was just a station.
Year 2000.
Before summer holidays.
When all of us were together.
---
Kyoto High — Year 2000
The first-year dorm room was shut tight.
Inside sat four students.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A short girl with white hair tied into a ponytail rhythmically tapped her bandaged hands against the table, over and over again.
A tall, thin boy reading a book on barrier techniques clicked his tongue in irritation.
"Aya," he said without looking up, "can you stop that? It's irritating."
Aya shot him a glare.
"Why shouldn't I, teacher's pet?"
The boy finally looked up, veins twitching at his temple.
"Who are you calling teacher's pet?"
"You, obviously," Aya replied. "Did you accidentally put a barrier on your ears too?"
Across the room, a short boy with messy hair gulped nervously.
Oh no… Kagami Iori-san is fighting with Miss Hoshino again.
She'll definitely take her anger out on me later…
Iori clenched his teeth.
"Don't push me. I'm already in detention because you just had to talk back to Principal Gakuganji."
"Someone needed to have some guts," Aya replied flatly.
The two glared at each other.
The short boy shrank into his seat.
Then—
The door slid open.
A tall woman entered, her presence calm and spiritual. Prayer beads slipped quietly through her fingers as she spoke.
"That's enough. Both of you."
Iori straightened immediately.
"Tsukishima-san."
Tsukishima Nao nodded.
"Today, we have a mission."
Ren muttered under his breath, "Another one…"
"Yeah, sorry, Ren," Nao said gently. "You gotta do what you gotta do."
Aya leaned forward, eyes shining.
"Oh yeah? Tell me it's a combat mission."
Iori stood silently, waiting for orders.
"It's a tracking mission," Nao replied.
"Aww, shucks," Aya groaned.
"Language," Iori snapped.
Ren let out a lazy, "Yeahhhh…"
Nao continued, "It's about tracking a possible special-grade sorcerer."
Everyone froze.
Nao held up a photograph.
A bland-looking man stared back at them.
Suddenly—
The wall warped.
A serpent-shaped curse emerged—its lower body coiled like a snake, its upper torso bulky like a hippo's. In a flash, it lunged forward.
Ren was sent flying into the wall.
Aya, Nao, and Iori immediately readied themselves.
"How is this possible?" Iori shouted. "Nao-san, the school is protected by charms!"
"I don't know," Nao replied.
---
6:00 PM — Somewhere Else
At exactly 6:00 PM, a guy jolted awake in his bedroom.
His alarm shattered.
"…Oops."
"My name is John," he muttered. "I am a human. One hundred percent."
He paused.
"…Though sometimes it doesn't feel like it."
He stumbled into the bathroom and brushed his teeth with unnecessary passion, staring at his reflection.
"Sometimes I wish I didn't look like an NPC."
By the way—he was half white, half Japanese.
He got dressed: basic white shirt, black tie, black pants.
"I wish I'd dye my hair," John sighed. "Maybe something unique… but it'd probably just make it worse."
He splashed water on his face.
"You're probably wondering why I'm dressed like this," he said to the mirror.
"Well, there's this girl I like. Today's our first date. Sharp 6:00 a—"
He froze.
"…Oh. It's 6:00 PM."
He sighed deeply.
"I set my alarm wrong."
---
At a small restaurant near his house, John sat alone.
Silent.
A waiter approached.
"Would you like something?"
John blinked.
"Someone?"
"…What?"
"Water will do."
After finishing the glass—
"That'll be three yen, sir."
John walked home slowly, suit fluttering in the evening air.
"I wonder if she'll ever hear me out…"
Then—
An explosion without fire tore through the street.
A tall, thin figure wearing glasses crashed down from the sky.
"Are you okay?" John asked.
The man adjusted his glasses.
"Get out of here. It's dangerous."
John tilted his head.
"Huh? Are you cosplaying something?"
The curse emerged again, lunging toward them.
Iori threw up a barrier, shielding them both.
"Get away!"
John stepped forward.
"Is this weird guy bullying you?" he said seriously. "I'll take care of him."
"…What?" Iori whispered.
John walked straight through the barrier.
The curse recoiled.
What is this guy…?
Why do I have chills?
The curse froze from tail to head, then panicked.
It began crawling through the air itself.
"King-sama! Help me!" it screamed.
"Kiiiing-sama!"
A dark voice echoed from the sky.
NO.
The curse dropped to the ground at John's feet—disintegrating in pure terror.
John looked down at the remains.
Iori stared, remembering the photograph Nao had shown them.
"…You are—"
"John," he said casually.
"John Kaisen. What's your name?"
---
To Be Continued