59

.

A startled exclamation leaves her throat, completely involuntary, when the bonfire suddenly surges out of control.

… It's completely unexpected, and shocking. All sorcerers treat the ceremonies and rituals of Obon with utmost carefulness and gravity, since it is important for them to respect and properly honor the dead, far more than your average person. So for something like this to happen, it's–!

Fushiguro Tsumiki instinctively raises her arms in front of herself, even though she knows that it won't do anything to stop fire. But still, she can't help her reaction. She flinches back, eyes squeezing shut as the wave of scorching heat approaches and–

"It's alright."

The words are spoken softly, tonelessly. But also calm, in a way that somehow cleanly cuts across the hazy panic creeping up on Tsumiki, clouding her mind and beating a rapid thump-thump-thump against her ribcage.

There's a hand holding onto her, pale fingers encircled around Tsumiki's wrist.

… Shiki's hand.

Tsumiki blinks, and looks up.

Beneath the fiery light of the flames around them, her friend's snow-white hair is illuminated with a golden tinge. Pale and bright, silhouetted with a red-orange glow that makes her almost blinding to look at. Beneath the harsh light of the flames, the pale lilac shade of the other girl's yukata is drenched in shifting colors of flickering red-gold, so much so that the original color of her clothing is hard to make out anymore.

It's at this moment that Tsumiki realizes with a small start that the two of them are standing in the middle of burning flames.

Tsumiki pales. "S-Shiki–!"

"It's alright," her friend repeats. In this moment, Shiki's gaze is focused outwards, cast upon the roaring flames surrounding them. But unlike the rest of her body that is ensconced with a fiery glow, there is no firelight reflected in her eyes. The color of her eyes remain a deep, dark blue –dark enough to drown in, save for the fractal gleam of a vividly multicolored shine that reminds Tsumiki of… of…

… a rainbow.

Yes, a rainbow. The multicolored light that is not unlike the iridescent hue of a rainbow, if such fleeting things could be caught and locked forever within a pair of abyssal eyes.

Shiki lets out a soft hum, a quiet sound that Tsumiki is somehow still able to clearly discern despite the overwhelming snap-crackle sound of scorching flames around them.

Flames that… aren't actually… scorching…?

With a small start, Tsumiki realizes two things: That despite the ferocity of the fiery blaze, it doesn't actually burn, and there is no one else in their nearby surroundings.

… Which… doesn't make sense. The clearing had been full of people attending the final okuribi, waiting for the ceremony to begin. But right now, in this moment… Tsumiki does not see anyone else in their surroundings.

It's too quiet. Far too quiet, save for the sound of the crackling inferno.

Tsumiki swallows roughly, "W-what's going on?"

"It seems that we're currently inside a separate space… a barrier? Or a cursed technique?" Shiki tilts her head, frowning slightly. "… This will take a moment."

"Okay," Tsumiki sucks in a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm. She needs to stay calm. Shiki already has her hands full dealing with –with whatever is going on right now. So, the least that Tsumiki could do right now is to not cause her friend any additional trouble.

… Because there's nothing that she can do to help in this moment.

Tsumiki is just… she's just a regular girl. She doesn't have any special abilities, like summoning 'Not-Pokemon' from her shadow, or cutting anything and everything into pieces. Not like her little brother, nor like her longtime friend. Tsumiki… is just a regular person who doesn't have any potential as a sorcerer.

It's a difficult job, she knows. A dangerous one. A burden that Tsumiki is ill-suited for carrying, even if she were capable of becoming a sorcerer.

… Or at least, that's what she tells herself. Even though there's a voice in her mind that whispers Hoshi Kirara to her, reminding her of the boy from a regular civilian background who hadn't even known that cursed spirits existed until his encounter with Shiki. Whereupon his aptitude for sorcery was discovered, and the rest after that was history.

If Tsumiki had the same potential within her… would she also be able to do the same? Become a sorcerer who fights curses?

She doesn't know. Tsumiki knows about the necessity of the job, knows about the shortage in the number of active sorcerers, but… she doesn't like fighting. Seeing too much blood makes her queasy.

That's normal, Yuzuki had said to her before. And it's fine to be normal. It's… it's also what they need.

But sometimes, Tsumiki still can't help but wonder.

She's not… jealous, exactly. Tsumiki knows the hardships involved with becoming a sorcerer extremely well, and anyone who is actually jealous of a sorcerer's life probably isn't in their right mind in the first place. At the same time, though… it's precisely because Tsumiki isn't a sorcerer that she knows she won't ever be able to truly understand Megumi. Or Shiki.

Hakari Kinji and Hoshi Kirara are both good people. It had also only taken a few months for them to be on a first name basis without any honorifics with Shiki… whereas it had taken Tsumiki years. Did this have anything to do with the fact that they were both sorcerers and Tsumiki… wasn't?

… No. She's reading too much into this. Megumi had been much the same as Tsumiki herself, in this respect. More importantly–

Shiki isn't this type of person. Tsumiki knows the other girl well, and she knows that Shiki isn't the type to look down on others just because they aren't able to use cursed energy. Shiki is cold, but she's not– she's not–

She's not heartless.

… No matter what the rumors might say. Which is one thing that Tsumiki definitely does not miss about living in the Gojo clan compound.

"I see."

"U-um, what?" Oh no, had she just said something aloud?

"I see it now," Shiki says. Tsumiki realizes that the other girl still isn't looking at her –Shiki's gaze remains fixated on the flames, even though her eyes reflect nothing. "The lines."

Ah. So that was what she meant.

Tsumiki breathes a small sigh of relief. Her insecurities are something that she needs to deal with on her own. She doesn't want to burden Shiki with any of this… although she suspects that Shiki would only give her a confused look and then offer to kill something for her even if Tsumiki did tell the other girl about her selfish shame and worries…

The thought causes her to huff out a slight laugh, even despite the dangerous situation that they're in.

She turns her wrist and grasps Shiki's hand, a movement that finally draws the other girl's attention. Shiki glances towards her expressionlessly, but Tsumiki knows her well enough to see the questioning tilt and slow blink.

"It's easier than having you hold onto my wrist like that," Tsumiki defends herself. It would be better if Shiki was able to move around a little more freely. "You're using your technique right now, aren't you? The one that requires physical contact?"

Shiki nods silently. Calloused fingers slide roughly against Tsumiki's own, as the other girl shifts her hold in return, acknowledging and accepting the explanation.

Despite the roaring flames around them, Tsumiki doesn't feel hot at all. Probably because of Shiki's defensive technique. To the point that her hands are cold against Shiki's, and slightly… sweaty.

"Sorry," Tsumiki says with a nervous little laugh, "I… I'm kind of scared right now."

Shiki is protecting her. On her own, Tsumiki probably would've already been burned to a crisp, and dying by immolation sounds like a very painful way to die.

Almost unconsciously, her fingers tighten over the other girl's hand.

Shiki blinks, and gives her a slightly puzzled look.

"… I won't let go of you."

Tsumiki smiles, "I know."

.

.

"Wow, is Obon always this exciting?"

Hakari Kinji lets out a low whistle and surveys his surroundings.

… Nah, who is he kidding. This is definitely not a planned festival event. Didn't they say that there was half an hour's worth of dancing to look forward to? Last he'd checked, Kinji flambé was not part of the evening menu.

"It most certainly is not," Kiyohira-sensei's voice is tired and long-suffering. But also tense, in a steely sort of way that promises violence if not murder.

… Sorta like another Gojo that Kinji knows. Except it's not as obvious with Shiki. Shiki doesn't threaten people –she just glances over, swings her sword without batting an eye, and then boom. New dead body. You're welcome.

Kinji remembers looking at the girl, and feeling the weight of her cursed energy. It was nothing like anything that Kinji had ever experienced before –and Kinji has been in his fair share of back-alley fights and street brawls, prior to the fateful day when he'd poked his head out the window and saw a white-haired ojou-sama standing there. The way she'd been dressed, Kinji wouldn't have been surprised to learn that she was an actress or something.

But no, she wasn't. She was a sorcerer.

The moment that Kinji felt her cursed energy, he knew that his world would never be the same again.

He'd been vaguely aware that his own energy was different, in a way. Takagi-sensei had confirmed it, saying that Kinji's cursed energy had a sort of "rough texture" to it. An edge that was not unlike being cut with a serrated blade, or sandpaper harsh enough to draw blood with every scrape.

Shiki's cursed energy didn't have any texture to it.

What it did have, however, was pressure.

Not in the physical sense of things –cursed energy usually didn't lend itself very well to such overt displays enforced upon material surroundings anyways, according to Takagi-sensei– but there was something undeniably terrifying and hair-raising about it even despite the lack of tangible sensation.

There was something about it that made breathing difficult. That sent goosebumps prickling upon his skin. And something off that was difficult to describe, but if Kinji had to put it into words–

It was as if someone had walked over his grave.

… Man, what a rush. Might've shaved a few years off of his life, but totally worth it.

Kinji looks towards Kiyohira-sensei. "So, how do we get out of his fire-thing? … And where did everyone else suddenly disappear to, anyways?"

"Ippei is a barrier specialist. He's analyzing our surroundings at the moment," Kiyohira-sensei gestures towards a white-haired man squinting intensely into the burning flames. "I presume that the others are in situations similar to ours. They should all be fine, considering the number of sorcerers present."

Cool. Kinji isn't worried in the least about Shiki or that crazy clan head not-brother of hers, but he is a little worried about Kirara and the Fushiguro siblings.

"You're… remarkably composed, considering the situation."

"Like worrying would help?" Kinji stretches and cracks his knuckles, "Everything will be fine as long as we can get out of here and kill whoever is responsible for this, right?"

"… Yup, he's definitely the ojou-sama's classmate," another Gojo clansman says loudly from somewhere behind them, only to let out a small 'oof' when he is immediately elbowed in the stomach by another clansman.

Kiyohira-sensei sighs, deep and weary.

.

.

What a mess.

Gojo Kiyohira reaches up with one hand and rubs slowly at his brow, fruitlessly attempting to stave off an oncoming headache.

… Such a mess. To think someone would be brazen enough to disrupt the final okuribi of Obon like this… and to think that they would be able to successfully circumvent the Kamo Clan in order to do so…

But perhaps that's not such a surprise. It's no secret that the Kamo Clan's strength has been steadily declining, even though they maintained their status as one of the Three Great Families. Although as for whether they would be able to keep this prestigious title after such a gross failure to carry out their duties tonight…

Kiyohira shakes his head. Considering the relentless infighting going on within the Kamo Clan these past few years, he can't exactly say that he's surprised. But… it is surprising that someone would choose to act against the Kamo Clan like this during Obon.

If this was a plot to discredit and shame the Kamo Clan, then it was highly likely that the instigator behind this was from a sorcery clan. Yet no self-respecting sorcerer would deliberately stir up trouble during Obon, a festival whose purpose was to honor and pay respect to the dead. There was significance in Obon even for regular civilians, much less sorcerers.

To disrupt the ceremony meant for pacifying agitated spirits, one whose express purpose was to use the age-old rituals to prevent the formation of vengeful cursed spirits… even if it would ensure the fall of the Kamo Clan in full, surely it was also equally clear that no sorcerer in Kyoto would take this lying down. It was one thing to shame the Kamo Clan through small trip-ups and behind-the-scenes sabotage; it was another thing entirely to mock all the sorcery clans in attendance by disrupting the okuribi in such a flagrant manner. Surely the instigator would know that their actions would draw the ire of many sorcery clans.

Then, why would they do it?

Does this… have anything to do with Araya Souren?

His right shoulder twinges at the thought. Kiyohira forces his expression to remain impassive.

Araya Souren… part of him would love nothing more than to run him through with his sword and lop off the coward's head. There's something inside him that burns at the memory of his fight against the man. If such an uneven altercation could even be considered a proper fight. This was the man who'd kidnapped Shiki, and killed Jihei.

… Who'd somehow managed to escape Satoru-sama's wrath, and was still targeting Shiki. Considering the shikigami that Shiki and her friends had encountered on their very first day in Kyoto… there was a non-zero possibility that Araya was the one behind this disruption of the final okuribi, too.

But what would be his purpose in doing such a thing? From all signs, Araya seemed like the type of person to hide himself and plot in the shadows. To cast himself directly under the attention of all the sorcery clans like this… did not seem to be his signature.

What would he gain from this? Because it was clear that Araya did not care for the welfare of the Kamo Clan. But how would he benefit from hastening the Kamos' fall? Araya's target was Shiki–

Shiki.

Kiyohira's blood runs cold. Shiki. This fire-barrier had separated the attendees from each other. Currently, Shiki was nowhere in sight. If Araya was truly the mastermind, and if his goal was to isolate Shiki, then–

Calm down. Nothing was confirmed yet. It was also entirely possible that this wasn't Araya's latest plot, after years of silence. Perhaps… perhaps it was the work of some rash upstarts, who wanted to ensure that the Kamos would never be able to lift their heads again, even if it meant ruining the ceremonies for Obon. But…

Kiyohira would be a fool to leave things to chance again.

If there was one bright lining to the current situation that they were now in, it would be the fact that Satoru-sama was here. Unlike the day when Kiyohira had been foolish enough to allow himself to be poisoned, and failed to protect his young charge, there were many other sorcerers present here.

Including Gojo Satoru, the most powerful sorcerer in this day and age. Who viewed Shiki like a little sister, and would not allow her to come to harm in his presence.

He'd been the one to tear mercilessly into the Kamo Clan in the first place, for their role in endangering Shiki when she'd been kidnapped.

And Shiki… she had more methods of protecting herself, now. Her cursed technique lapse was quite possibly one of the most powerful defensive techniques in existence, an ability that was almost on par with the untouchable barrier that Satoru-sama commanded with Limitless. Araya Souren wouldn't be able to hurt her again so easily.

Kiyohira exhales slowly.

To the side, Ippei starts muttering to himself as he leans forward into the flames –and promptly gets yanked back by the collar by an expressionless Hayanari.

"How many times do I have to tell you, stay within range of my cursed technique, or you're going to get burned into a crisp."

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time!"

… Children, the whole lot of them.

.

.

"–and are you even listening to what I'm saying?"

"Nope."

The other man grits his teeth, making a frustrated sound. Zenin Naoya continues to ignore him.

This fire… he surveys the blazing flames, and scoffs. It's an interesting trick, but that's all it is, in the end. Naoya couldn't care less about it. The old geezers can harp on and on about how important Obon is and what a sacrilege it is for the okuribi to be disrespected and desecrated like this–

But that's something for the Kamos to worry about. Naoya is in no rush to try to resolve this chaotic situation. In fact, he's rather looking forward to seeing how they'll try to spin things this time.

Seriously, messing up the preparations for Obon of all things?

Ha! What a joke.

But if the Kamos want to make fools out of themselves, then the Zenin Clan will only be too happy to sit back and watch the fallout.

Naoya is sure that the Gojo Clan's attitude is much the same.

Including 'Gojo Shiki.'

The Gojo Clan's precious little princess, who'd been spoiled beyond belief, to the point that she clearly didn't even know a woman's proper place anymore. And still, the Gojo Clan continued to indulge the girl, to the point where there were even whispers that she was being entertained as a candidate to become the next clan heir.

Tsk, tsk.

Well, he'll grudgingly admit that it's not as if he can't entirely see where they're coming from. Naoya still remembers his first encounter with the girl –of being forced down by her cursed energy. The shock and humiliation that had coursed through him had been an almost visceral sensation.

But it doesn't mean anything, really. Naoya had just let his guard down at the time, and Shiki-chan was a little more talented than he'd expected. It doesn't mean that she possesses the potential for heirship. It doesn't mean that she's worthy.

It didn't change the fact that she was just a girl, whose only future was becoming a dutiful wife to her husband and proper mother for her children.

A shame, really.

There's no doubt that the Gojo Clan would want to keep her for themselves. Inter-clan marriages were not uncommon, but rarer techniques and prized bloodlines tended to be kept within the clan as much as possible. And in the case that the child born of an inter-clan marriage possessed a signature technique from the mother's bloodline, they were usually returned to the mother's clan –assuming that there were proper binding vows and agreements in place.

But a new cursed technique? New cursed eyes? Ones that no clan had laid any proper claim to? That was a tad bit more complicated.

Any man who wanted to take Shiki-chan as his bride would most definitely be expected to marry into the Gojo Clan –assuming that the Gojos hadn't already arranged for one of their own to claim her. If it were not for the distinct age gap and the fact that Satoru-kun clearly treated her like a little sister rather than a prospective fiancée candidate, it probably wouldn't be entirely impossible for a match to be arranged between them.

If they were to be engaged to each other, though…

Hah, Naoya would love to see the look on Satoru-kun's face. Would he even be able to bring himself to touch her? To touch a girl who looked as if she could be his own mirror image, except dainty and slender and curved in all the right places as a woman should be?

What would it be like to fuck a female Gojo Satoru?

(The very thought of such a prospect makes Naoya's throat tighten.)

Would she cry? Or would she scream? How pretty would she look while she was pinned down and forced to beg?

Every year that Naoya has seen her during Obon, Shiki-chan was always acting cold and aloof. Giving off the impression as if there was nothing that she cared about, and nothing could enter her eye. As distant as the moon that hung high above, shining clear and bright –even though it was nothing but a pale reflection and poor imitation of the radiant sun.

Naoya knows only all too well how fragile women really are. How easily their eyes tear up, and how they tremble and cower. How they're prone to making those soft, hiccuping sounds that annoys Naoya to no end, to the point where he wishes that he could just permanently choke it out of them.

Women are weak.

In the end, for all her blessings… Shiki-chan is only just a young woman.

And oh, isn't that such a shame for her?

…

The flames continue burning around Naoya and the other Zenin clansmen with him. Naoya stares into the flames, and idly wonders if it's only his imagination that he can also feel something burning in the low pit of his stomach.

He lowers his eyes, a lazy, half-lidded expression.

Purple was a good color on Shiki-chan. Even if she was foolish enough to wear wisterias in her hair to go along with it. But, it's fine for women to be a little stupid–

As long as they know to keep their heads down and walk three steps behind a man.

.

.

Kamo Noritoshi knows how to keep his head down and be unobtrusive. Lady Matsuhime had not liked Noritoshi at all, which taught Noritoshi the necessity of caution. Then, there was the entire mess with internal strife after his father's death–

"What the hell is going on?"

"No! No, this cannot be, these flames–"

"Is this a sign of our ancestors showing their anger towards us?!"

This, however, is no time to continue being unobtrusive.

Noritoshi sucks in a deep breath, and squares his shoulders–

"This is your fault!"

Noritoshi chokes.

But… the accusation isn't leveled towards him. Instead, it's an unfamiliar clansman pointing a finger directly into Shiroshichi-sensei's face with a fierce snarl. Beneath the red glow of the wall of flames surrounding them, it almost makes the man look like a demon out of hell.

But there are no demons here.

Just… people.

…

It's not as if Noritoshi doesn't understand why he was driven out. The majority of the Kamo Clan might've been willing to subside under his father's rule, but the moment that his father was dead, leaving no clear line of succession –for Noritoshi was a bastard child– most people looked at the empty seat of clan head and saw opportunity.

And Noritoshi wasn't strong enough to stop them. Too young to properly take up the position and quell the dissenters, but old enough that he was a distinct threat to his contenders.

If it weren't for Elder Shino and Shiroshichi-sensei, Noritoshi would be dead.

Noritoshi's feelings towards the Kamo Clan are… complicated. At first, all he'd wanted was to become strong. To become a good clan heir and a good clan head, just as his father desired of him. Because if he did that, then it meant that he would… finally be able to bring his mother home. His real mother home. The woman who loved him, but had been chased out of the Kamo Clan with nothing but what little possessions she had been permitted to bring, because she was–

A filthy harlot! How dare she seduce my husband, that filthy harlot?!

It had been young Noritoshi's single greatest wish to be able to be with his mother again. To become a good clan head and make the Kamo Clan into a place where his mother would be able to return to.

But he'd come to realize that… this wasn't what his mother needed. Nor was it what she wanted.

His mother already had a home.

A home that consisted of a loving husband, and a young son. Noritoshi's half-brother. A home that did not include Noritoshi, but–

That day when Shiroshichi-sensei had brought Noritoshi to his mother's doorstep, she'd broken down crying, holding Noritoshi in a tight hug.

"You've finally come back to me, Noritoshi," she'd said. Which was strange, because Noritoshi had always imagined that those would be the words that he would be able to say to his mother one day.

You've finally come home, mother.

But… the Kamo Clan is not her home. Maybe it was, once, but–

Not anymore. And… never again.

Elder Shino and Shiroshichi-sensei had brought Noritoshi to his mother so that he would be safe. Safe, and far away from the cold machinations and fierce infighting within the Kamo Clan that had nearly cost him his life. But he doubts that either of them had expected that bringing him to live with his mother and her family would cause Noritoshi to have doubts about his own status as the 'true' Kamo heir.

"Silly boy. This is your family, too." A warm hand on his head, and a gentle laugh. The low baritone chuckle of a man's voice, and a curious blink from a young baby brother. "No matter what you choose… you're my son. You'll always have a home with us."

For the first time in his life, Noritoshi is loved. The sort of love that doesn't expect anything in return, doesn't expect Noritoshi to become a powerful sorcerer or a fitting clan heir–

Shamefully, Noritoshi wavers.

… He doesn't want to be the Kamo clan heir anymore. He… doesn't even want to be a sorcerer anymore.

…

Then, a new thought occurs to him: Are there others in the Kamo Clan who feel the same way as I do?

Those who are born into the Kamo Clan are bound by duty, for they are a sorcery clan. One of the Three Great Families. An illustrious lineage that worked to defend the populace from curses. There's no denying that the task they perform is vital, and yet–

And yet, there's something wrong with the Kamo Clan, isn't there?

A clan is… family. They're supposed to be able to rely on each other, working together to exorcise cursed spirits and render aid to those they can, to the best of their ability.

Noritoshi thinks about his mother being driven out for her adultery –even though she was a victim. Of young children being taught sorcery, and being whipped for not progressing fast enough in their training. He thinks about Lady Matsuhime's cold smile and cold eyes, and of servants being punished for the most minor of infractions.

Noritoshi thinks about the Kamo Clan kidnapping the blessed child of the Gojo Clan.

Undoubtedly, there's something deeply wrong with his clan.

And Noritoshi… isn't the only one who sees it.

Elder Shino. Shiroshichi-sensei. And everyone else, the ones who told Noritoshi to live and called him the hope of the Kamo Clan…

Noritoshi… can't let them down.

No. He doesn't want to let them down.

The Kamo Clan is already in a difficult position, what with their slow, steady decline over the past few years. There's little that Noritoshi can do to change this on his own, and he has no doubt that after the disastrous events of Obon tonight, the Kamo Clan's reputation would plummet even lower. Which would only make everything even worse.

But there's nowhere to go from the rock-bottom but up.

… Noritoshi might not have a head for clan politics, but… he can't just continue to stay back and do nothing. Hadn't it already been enough that he couldn't do anything when he'd suddenly been ambushed during an unexpected encounter with the Gojo Clan's blessed child and her friends a few days ago? And this time… it wasn't just Noritoshi, but the entire Kamo Clan that was at stake.

So.

He steps forward determinedly, and places himself in front of Shiroshichi-sensei.

"The Kamo Clan has fought among itself for long enough," Noritoshi says firmly. "This is not the time to continue arguing, or shoving blame onto each other. What we need to do is…"

.

.

"I have no idea what I'm doing."

Hoshi Kirara raises his hands and rubs his face, groaning.

Everything around him is dark. Which only makes sense, considering that it's nighttime and all. But last he'd checked, he'd been sitting in the middle of a clearing with a lot of other people. There had even been a bonfire and everything! Except the flames had suddenly leaped out of control, and–

When Kirara had opened his eyes again, everything was gone.

There were no other people around him. He'd looked around and tried calling out, but no one had answered him. It was really hard to see anything, too… which was weird, because Kirara's eyesight wasn't that bad…

Spooky.

Spooky, and scary.

If it had been the Kirara of even a year ago who'd found himself in this situation, he probably would've started hyperventilating or something. To be honest, he still feels rather uneasy about it all, but–

But Kirara has seen and experienced far scarier things than just being alone in the dark.

There's really nothing left to do but just… try walking forward and finding out where he is, and where everyone else went.

As Kinji put it, 'There's no easier target than a sitting duck.' Might as well be a waddling duck in that case, then.

Kirara blindly stumbles forward, feeling his way along in the dark.

Kinji… hopefully Kinji is doing okay. Shiki, too. Although Shiki is probably the last person that anyone needs to worry about–

–no. He couldn't think like that. She'd… she'd been kidnapped before, hadn't she?

Ever since the start of school –ever since Kirara's first encounter with her, really– Gojo Shiki had always presented an image of unattainable perfection. Untouchable, and flawless.

But as Kirara had gotten to know her, it became clear that wasn't the case. She was terrible with people, for one. And extremely bad at properly communicating, to the point that sometimes Kirara cringed a bit in secondhand embarrassment when she talked.

Coming along with her to Kyoto, though, and seeing how she interacted with her family…

Kirara is still of the opinion that she is bad at communicating, and very bad at picking up social cues. But… she means well. Probably.

Would she and Kinji still treat you the same if they really knew who you actually were, deep inside? All the shameful secrets that you try so hard to bury and hide because you're scared? Scared that the same thing that's happened to you in school all your life will start repeating itself here in the jujutsu school?

Kirara sucks in a shaky breath, and–

"You're not supposed to be here."

Kirara yelps, spinning around. He had not sensed anyone creeping up behind him at all–

"Calm yourself." It's a tall man who's suddenly standing behind Kirara, faintly discernible from the distinct edge of his form and the clearly masculine voice. "I mean you no harm… although the same cannot be said for others."

"W-who are you?" Kirara gulps, "And what's going on? Do you know where everyone else is?"

"Everyone else?"

Why did he sound surprised? "There were a lot of others present for the okuribi."

"The okuribi…" A soft sigh. Kirara gets the impression of the man shaking his head, "… Regardless, you shouldn't be here. Follow me."

Kirara follows.

Like most clan sorcerers, the man is dressed in traditional robes. There's the faint rustling of cloth as he walks forward briskly, forcing Kirara to hasten into a slight jog in order to keep up with those long strides.

"Who are you?" he asks.

"Gojo–" A loud rumbling obscures the rest of the man's words. The man immediately comes to a halt, surveying his surroundings. "And you?"

"Hoshi Kirara," Kirara responds, rubbing at his nose from where he'd unintentionally collided with the man. Not that the man in question even seemed to notice. What was he even made of, iron?

"That's new," the man says, and swipes down with his hand.

Something tears in the space around them. Instantly, a bright light burns through the darkness –literally, burning. There's an endless sea of flames on the other side, and some of it even leaps out towards them–

Kirara flinches back, but there is a tendril of water that flashes through the air, instantly dousing the flames. Wait, since when was the man holding a sword in his hands? He was a sorcerer?! Although, that probably wasn't very surprising–

"Get inside," the man orders him.

Kirara gapes at the insane sorcerer, "Are you crazy?!"

"You'll be alright," the man insists, although his attention appears to be focused elsewhere as he twists to look at something over his shoulder.

And then, without even bothering to turn around, he shoves Kirara directly into the inferno.

"Don't come back again, Hoshi Kirara."

.

.

…

.