Subaru in JJK

Tokyo lay in ruins beneath a blanket of smoke and silence—its usual chaos replaced by the aftermath of horror. The Shibuya Incident had ended, but the city still trembled under the weight of its dead.



Subaru Natsuki stood atop a crumbling rooftop, the fractured skyline stretching before him like the scarred remains of a dying world. An eerie calm hung in the air, broken only by the flicker of failing lights and the distant echoes of sirens.



His coat, tattered and bloodstained, whipped in the wind. His eyes—dull, bottomless voids—gazed out over the devastation without a hint of sorrow. Between his fingers, a silver coin danced. It was not a keepsake; it was a trigger.



“Another loop,” he said, his voice flat. “Let’s get it over with.”