A bright morning.
The sun was shining brightly. A sky transparent as glass, with a few soft, cottony clouds drifting through. The sound of children playing came in through the window, carried along with the low, distant hum of city traffic.
Another new day. For Nanami Kira, another perfectly ordinary day. A single grain of sand on the shore, unremarkable, no different from any other.
Kira was up early. He came down from the upstairs bedroom and fed Stray Cat his custom kitten chow. Lately, Stray Cat had turned a little picky. Apparently he didn't care much for Kira's homemade formula.
No matter. Kira's cooking was demonstrably fine—Gojo Satoru drank his broth once and declared it excellent—so the problem could only be with Stray Cat. He was getting too fussy.
This could not go on.
Kira watered the wisteria out front, added another slice of bread to his plate, fried a small portion of fresh bacon, and reheated a little fresh milk in the microwave. He sat down to enjoy his peaceful breakfast.
A great deal had happened in the last few days.
First of all—the two Zenin Clan heirs had, as it happened, blown up on the spot. Several senior members of the jujutsu establishment had gone with them. Principal Gakuganji, too, had followed soon after. As of yet, no culprit had been identified.
Kira had absolutely no reason to be under suspicion. He had spent the last few days lodged at the school, substituting for Gojo Satoru—his own offer, in fact.
Only after Gojo had returned to Tokyo did Kira go home.
Every hour, every minute accounted for, at a school full of witnesses. A flawless alibi.
The jujutsu world had been forced to label the string of attacks a cursed-spirit incident. For a time, every Tokyo citizen grew a little warier. There was the scent of something ominous in the air.
But Kira knew the worst of it was over.
With Mahito and Hanami both dead, Suguru Geto would by now have understood that something was happening.
Something beyond the scope of their understanding.
Something had set its eyes on them.
They would go to ground. Nothing of note would happen for a while.
Nothing happening was the happiest thing of all.
And for Kira—after all of that—he could finally, properly, enjoy his quiet life.
Living carefully. Cooking his own meals. Keeping the house in order. Heading out for groceries. Up early, in to work early, and out by six—with a bit of creative delegation to his juniors, officially billed as a chance for them to develop their abilities—and home before seven, uncorking a bottle of red wine, sometimes carving a roast gosling to go with it.
He was very satisfied with that life.
The only small regret: his memory had been less reliable lately. A towel or two would go missing from the linens, then surface somewhere else. The house might also have a mouse problem. The trash can seemed to have been turned over yesterday—it was rather disordered.
Before bed he'd gotten into the habit of keeping a diary.
He drained the last of the milk, ate the final bite of bread, and pulled the diary out. He leafed slowly through its pages in the mild morning light:
> August 22nd. Weather: sunny. The sun too hot for comfortable work. Handshake event.
>
> August 23rd. Sunny. Served as substitute teacher again today. Had the students sit exams all day.
>
> Same day: Messrs. Zenin Jinichi and Zenin Naoya have departed this world. Deepest sorrow. Grief without bounds. Unable to carry on with class.
>
> August 24th. Sunny. Yesterday's grief has left me unwell. The students shall continue with their exams.
>
> Same day: our venerable Principal Gakuganji has ascended to the realm beyond. The heart grows bitter and cold. After blow upon blow, the melancholy within my chest has hardened into an actual illness, a sickness of the heart, and I can barely remain upright. I have therefore petitioned for one month of sick leave to rest and recover.
>
> Denied.
>
> August 25th. Overcast. Exams.
>
> August 26th. Overcast. No afternoon class. Paid a visit to the seafood market at Shibuya Station. The ~~lobsters~~ Hoshino Ei there—I find much to my liking. Fresh and spirited.
>
> August 27th. Sunny. Yesterday's diary entry was tampered with by an outside party. Punitive beating administered.
Kira uncapped his pen, turned to a new page, and began the day's fresh entry:
> August 28th. Sunny. Another clear day. Mood calm, nails growing at a measured pace. This will be a happy—
"Kira-sensei."
"Kira-sensei?"
A crisp knock at the door. A clear girl's voice, carrying all the sunshine of summer.
The girl, evidently, was nothing if not patient. When Kira didn't respond, she went right on tapping at the door, one soft knock after another.
> This will be a rather miserable day.
Kira wrote this addendum. Tucked the diary away. Sat still for a few seconds. Shook his head with something between resignation and despair.
He stood, sighed softly into the sunlight, unlatched the door, and opened it.
"A handshake?"
What first appeared in the doorway was not a person, but a pair of outstretched hands.
Fair, soft fingers. Plump round fingertips. Skin smooth as silk. The slender fingers curled in gentle suggestion, tracing the perfect arc of offer.
The girl's face held no expression at all. Her eyes, as always, cool and distant.
Kira swatted the proffered hands aside and pressed his own palm to his forehead.
"Hoshino Ei. Don't forget what you promised me: Don't disturb my peaceful life. Beyond that you may do whatever you please."
"Nails."
Hoshino Ei spoke quietly. Her wine-red pupils glittered faintly. She spread her five fingers and displayed them to Kira.
"New nail polish."
The nails that had once been a clear, translucent pink were now coated in the softest shade of red—like the skin of an infant.
She tilted her head, watching him, obviously expecting to be praised.
Kira's expression darkened by increments. He looked into her eyes.
"Killer Quee—"
"Wait wait wait?!"
Hoshino Ei's carefully crafted cool mask shattered. She stared at him with pure, wounded disbelief.
"Why are we jumping straight to Killer Queen?! Isn't this the part where you're supposed to compliment me?!"
"Nice hand. But the person attached to it is rather revolting."
Kira held her gaze, level and calm.
"What is it you came for? Get to the point. Don't waste my breakfast hour."
(His breakfast was, in fact, already finished.)
"Ahh."
Hoshino Ei tilted her head. Snow-white hair slid down over one shoulder.
Today she was wearing a summer dress, exposing pale shoulders and a delicate collarbone. The thin fabric clung lightly to her skin. Sunlight lay across her.
"Tomorrow is the Kyoto–Tokyo Sister-School Goodwill Event. I was hoping to invite sensei to come and watch."
"If Kira-kun is there, I'll fight harder on the field! Super, super hard! I'll be super happy!"
Her red eyes were wide open, fixed on him in earnest, like a cat waiting for a dried fish.
"No."
And with that, Kira went to close the door.
"This way I'd have a reason not to go to work!"
The door stopped short.