[10] : Even Among Special-Grades, There’s a Gap

"B-Broken? You broke it…?"

Saeko Busujima had envisioned countless possible scenarios throughout their negotiation—losing it, selling it, lending it to a friend, or even dropping it down a drain during a bathroom break. She'd mentally prepared contingency plans for each of these scenarios.

But this… broken…?

She leans over the table, breathing lightly, scrutinizing the small plastic bag filled with dark brown crumbs and a few scattered chunks. Despite being fully destroyed, the remains still exude an ominous aura that won't disperse.

—It's undoubtedly the remnants of Sukuna's Finger.

But how could that possibly be?

Saeko can't wrap her mind around it. She hasn't been at Tokyo Jujutsu High for very long—only about a year—but her strength is already on par with a Grade 1 sorcerer, and the Busujima family name gives her some influence. Consequently, she's privy to more of the Jujutsu Association's inner workings than most students.

She knows the real reason the Association keeps sealing Sukuna's fingers instead of destroying them isn't due to any grand conspiracy—they simply can't.

No matter what method they try, it doesn't work—even the so-called 'Strongest' jujutsu sorcerer in modern times, Gojo-sensei, once attempted to destroy the fingers and accomplished nothing.

Yet leaving them unsealed is just as impossible. The mere existence of these fingers continually attracts hordes of Curses, like some grotesque king-of-the-hill battle. Left unchecked, the aftermath would spiral into total chaos.

No one has ever found a solution—like facing a hyper-advanced virus with medieval medicine, the only option is to seal them away.

And now… she's being told one has already been destroyed?

Saeko's lips part slightly, but no words emerge.

"…How did you do it?" she finally manages.

"Simple: 'Strong Enough to Smash Anything.'" Bokue Keikain's answer is as unrefined as it is straightforward.

"People claim something's 'Indestructible' when the force applied never exceeds its durability. It's like trying to 'Blow up the Earth' with a little handgun—obviously impossible. But if you happen to have a Planet-buster… that's another story."

"Oh—and let me reintroduce myself. I'm Bokue Keikain, the acting representative of the Kyoto-based Keikain Clan."

For most ordinary folks, "Acting representative" sounds unfamiliar. But to someone like Saeko—heir to a famed kendo lineage—it carries immense weight.

Acting representative means that, in the head's absence, this person wields authority to make major decisions for the entire family. This requires not just blood ties but also the raw power and influence to command respect.

Even so, Gojo-sensei is also an acting representative—of the Gojo Clan, one of the "Big Three" in the Jujutsu world—and he's hailed as the strongest sorcerer in modern times. From birth, he's literally broken the balance between Sorcerers and Curses by existing. And even he couldn't destroy Sukuna's fingers…

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Buzz—Buzz—

The sudden vibration jolts Saeko from her thoughts. She fumbles in her uniform pocket, pulls out her phone, and answers without even checking caller ID.

"Hello, this is Saeko Busujima, third-year at Tokyo Jujutsu High. I'm currently handling the retrieval of—"

"Busujima-san! It's me—Ijichi! We have a huge crisis!"

A timid-sounding male voice crackles on the other end, obviously trying to remain calm but failing miserably.

"Listen, about an hour ago, I dropped Fushiguro, Itadori, and Kugisaki off at the location of a 'Window' reading—somewhere with a cursed womb signature. Once they went inside, I lost contact. Then just now, Fushiguro came out with a severely injured Kugisaki. I'm rushing her to the hospital right now…"

"Where is this?"

Saeko instantly stands, sliding her hand to her sword bag. Her voice, so quiet and composed moments earlier, is now sharp with urgency.

Watching the shift in her demeanor, Bokue raises an eyebrow slightly.

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"…It's at—" Ijichi rattles off the place, adding hastily, "I really didn't want to bother you, but Gojo-sensei's out of town and can't come back in time. Right now, you're the only Grade 1 sorcerer in Tokyo I can reach."

"I understand. I'm on my way."

Saeko's tone is resolute.

"All right—but please be careful. According to Fushiguro, the inside is completely warped, nothing like it's supposed to be. That could mean the Curse is manifesting its own Innate Domain. In other words… a Special-Grade Curse."

"Got it. Thanks."

With that final acknowledgment, she hangs up. Then she turns, preparing to quickly explain her situation and leave—only to see that Bokue has already paid at the register and is heading toward her, giving a thumbs-up toward the exit.

"Sounds urgent. I covered the bill—just wire me half later. Money's tight this month… gotta feed a freeloading cat, I can't treat random girls to free snacks. Let's get going. A taxi's too slow; I'll take you there myself."

Saeko Busujima: "…"

He's… coming along?

She hesitates—she's used to operating solo for reasons of her own. But what he says is true: if she relies on a taxi, she might arrive far too late.

She bites her lip briefly, then nods.

"All right. Let's go."

"Mhm."

They step outside. The sun has already dipped a third of the way below the horizon, painting the sky in a deep blood-red glow.

Saeko surveys the relatively empty student district—most clubs are still in session. "So, how do we get there?"

She remembers they walked from Kuoh Academy to this café.

A second later, Bokue's calm voice:

"Simple. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line—so we'll go straight."

Huh?

Before she can process those words, Saeko suddenly feels herself lifted off the ground. In an instant, she's enveloped by a Blazing Golden spiritual aura.

Bokue flashes a mischievous grin.

"All right, let's fly."

With that, he crouches slightly and springs into the air, carrying Saeko in his arms. They rocket upward, trailing golden energy in a graceful arc—like a blazing comet streaking toward their destination.

A White-hot beam across the sky.

About ten seconds later, that shooting star slams down into a juvenile detention facility on Tokyo's far outskirts—punching clean through the roof and into the structure below.

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