In the world of Jujutsu Kaisen, everyone always has their eyes on Yuji Itadori. Nare Hasaba was always standing right beside him.
Nare knew Yuji was special. It was kind of annoying, honestly. But Nare kept staying close — doing assignments together, going on missions together, eating lunch together. And still, nobody ever really looked at Nare.
One night after a mission, the two of them climbed up to the school rooftop with canned juice. Yuji said, almost like it was nothing, 'You're always n
I Was Smiling Right Beside You - When I'm on the verge of death, what I remember is
The wall warped grotesquely.
No. It wasn't the wall that had twisted—it was his own consciousness, Hasaba Nale thought.
The impact of being slammed against the wall at his back spread slowly through his entire body. The taste of iron filled his mouth. His vision began to darken. When he tried to breathe, his lungs screamed.
(This is bad.)
Somewhere in the northern part of Tokyo—the third floor of an abandoned building. Hasaba Nale collapsed to the floor and looked up at it.
A curse spirit.
More precisely, a special-grade curse spirit. The mission briefing had noted "possibility of Grade 2 equivalent." What actually appeared before him was several tiers above that. It towered past the ceiling. It had a vaguely human shape, but there was nothing human about it. Just a mass of dark "negative emotion" given form, standing there.
If you weren't a jujutsu sorcerer, you couldn't see it. An ordinary person would only feel an inexplicable unease in the area around this building. The despair, anxiety, resignation of people who had soaked into this abandoned structure—such things accumulated and gave birth to curse spirits. That's why in modern cities where humans clustered densely, curse spirits were being born in increasing numbers each year. And only jujutsu sorcerers with cursed energy could exorcise them.
(I'm glad I actually paid attention in that class.)
It was strange that he could think such a thing even now.
Nale tried to gather cursed energy in his right hand.
Nothing came.
He'd already hit bottom. He'd exhausted it trying to block the last attack. His body was heavy. He couldn't stand. The curse spirit approached slowly.
(I might die.)
The moment that thought crossed his mind, something floated up in his head.
The view from the rooftop.
The night sky. The glow of a vending machine. The profile of someone holding a canned drink. That face was—
The curse spirit's arm came down.
Nale rolled to the side on instinct. The arm shattered the floor right beside him. The building shook. Cracks spiderwebbed across the window glass. The moment he saw those cracks, Nale made his decision.
(That's the exit.)
He scraped together every last scrap of cursed energy left at the very bottom of his body. Into his legs. Into his arms.
"—!"
He let out a sound that wasn't quite a voice and kicked off the floor. He threw himself at the cracked window, nearly a full body tackle. Glass shattered. Outside air slapped his cheek. The single second of falling from the third floor felt impossibly long.
He hit the ground hard.
He managed a proper landing, but sharp pain shot through his right knee.
The night sky came into view.
For a while, he couldn't move. He lay on his back in the weeds, just staring up at the sky. A few autumn stars were visible.
"Hasaba!"
Running footsteps. A man in a suit rushed over. It was Ijichi, the assistant supervisor. Around thirty, wearing thin glasses. Gaunt and skeletal, always with a slightly flustered expression.
"Are you alive?! Are you alive?!"
"...I'm alive."
His voice was hoarse. Ijichi's face relaxed with relief, and he immediately pulled out his phone.
"I'm contacting the school right now. Don't move."
Nale stayed lying in the grass. It wasn't that his body wouldn't move—it was that he had no will to move.
He thought again about that profile that had floated into his mind moments ago.
(Why did that person's face come to me?)
---
The medical wing of the school was a white building a five-minute walk from the main campus. A small facility with eight beds, but it had everything necessary for treating jujutsu sorcerers.
Nale sat up in bed, staring at the ceiling. Bandages wrapped his arms. His right knee had a support brace. The pain in his body was much better than before.
The curtain opened and a woman in a white coat entered. Shoko Ieiri. Black-framed glasses, short black hair left unstyled. Her manner of speaking was flat, emotions barely showing on her face. A jujutsu sorcerer stationed in the medical wing and a user of reverse cursed technique—the healing ability that used cursed energy. There were almost no other sorcerers with that power, and she was apparently invaluable to the school, though she didn't seem to care much about such things.
"Where does it hurt the most?"
"My knee."
Ieiri checked it lightly and placed her palm against it. A warm sensation spread gently. Reverse cursed technique. Healing the wound with cursed energy.
"You're lucky you only got this from falling three stories."
"...Yeah."
"Next time you might not be lucky. You understand?"
He understood. He'd known since the day he enrolled that being a jujutsu sorcerer was like this. He'd heard the school's graduation rate was seventy percent. The remaining thirty percent were death, withdrawal, or expulsion. He'd stepped into that kind of world.
"Rest here tonight."
Ieiri finished the treatment, said just that, and drew the curtain closed as she left.
Nale looked at the ceiling again.
He thought about that face once more.
The profile that had appeared when he was nearly dying. The vending machine. The night air. That person saying something. He felt like he could even remember the voice.
(Itadori Yuji.)
He repeated the name in his head. A first-year like him, living in the same dorm. They'd been together since the day of enrollment. They did assignments together, went on missions together, ate meals together most of the time. It had become normal.
(Why did Itadori's face come to me?)
He thought the same thing again. The same answer—or lack of one—came back. With no answer forthcoming, Nale closed his eyes.
---
He woke in the dead of night.
He'd meant to stay in the medical wing as Ieiri had told him, but somehow he'd wanted to go back to his own room. The pain in his body had mostly faded. He checked his knee, decided he could walk, and quietly slipped into the hallway.
He walked through the night to the dormitory. The autumn air was cold. Only the sound of leaves rustling in the wind. The school grounds were vast. Even in daytime, people were sparse, but at night it was quieter still.
He entered the boys' dormitory and walked down the hallway. His room was 105.
He stopped in front of room 102.
A faint sound came from beyond the door. Maybe a TV or something. The presence of someone. That was all. But—
Something leaped in Nale's chest.
Not a clear sound, almost nothing at all. And yet there was a presence—a way of knowing someone was there. He knew it was Itadori's room. The moment he became aware of that, his heart beat once, hard.
(...Why?)
He'd walked this hallway countless times. Passed this door countless times. And yet only tonight, his chest leaped like this. He couldn't understand why.
He hurried back to his own room.
He sat on the bed without turning on the light. The moon hung outside the window. Thin clouds covered it, blurring the light.
(Because we're comrades.)
He told himself that. It wasn't strange for a comrade's face to appear when you were nearly dying. It was normal. You'd been together all this time, so of course their face would come to mind.
But.
(Then why did my heart leap just now?)
No answer came.
He couldn't sleep. He lay in bed for a while, but being in the room made him constantly aware of that presence next door, so eventually Nale got up.
I'll go to the rooftop, he thought.
---
The rooftop of the main building was a place students often used. Not an official break area, but no one said anything about it. A concrete space surrounded by fencing, with two vending machines in the corner. They sold juice, canned coffee, Pocari Sweat—that was about it.
The rooftop at night was quiet.
Only the vending machine's light glowed softly orange. Nale bought a canned coffee and stood in front of the fence. To the east, the Tama mountains were visible. In the darkness, only their outlines could be seen, but the boundary between sky and mountain was barely discernible.
He took a sip of the canned coffee. Bitter. He didn't really like it, but somehow tonight didn't feel like the time for something sweet.
The wind blew. His bangs lifted slightly. He always thought his somewhat long bangs were a nuisance at times like this, yet he'd never cut them.
The rooftop alone was vast.
Of course it was. He'd come here alone before, and tonight wasn't the first time. And yet somehow it felt wider than usual. Because no one was standing to his right.
(If Itadori were here, he'd say something.)
He thought that and was startled by his own thought.
"Ah."
A sound came out. Even though no one was there.
He gripped the canned coffee. The metal was cold.
(Did I...)
Did I like being beside Itadori?
He didn't really understand what "like" meant. But the profile that had appeared when he was nearly dying. The presence he'd felt in the hallway that made his heart leap. The way this rooftop felt wider now.
When he lined those things up one by one, it felt... dangerous.
Really dangerous.
Nale placed his hand on the fence and looked up at the night sky. A few stars were visible. His phone signal showed only two bars. He had no urge to contact anyone.
Holding something in his chest that had no name, Nale stood there for a while. The coffee gradually grew cold.
---
Morning came.
Light through the window woke him. He must have gone back to bed and fallen asleep without realizing it. When he sat up, his knee ached a little, but not like last night.
He changed into his uniform. White shirt, black slacks. He pulled out the school jacket and put it on. He attached the piercing to his right ear. The face in the mirror was the same as always. Sleepy eyes. An expression that barely moved.
(Looks normal.)
Despite the churning inside, nothing showed on his face. It had always been like this. His emotions didn't show. Sometimes that helped. Sometimes it didn't.
He stepped into the hallway.
The dormitory was quiet in the morning. Most people slept late. As Nale walked down the corridor, the door to room 103 opened. Megumi. Black hair slightly disheveled, uniform half-buttoned. He was still putting on his jacket.
"...I heard you got hurt on a mission last night."
Their eyes met. Megumi's gaze was calm. Hard to read emotions. But now he seemed a little worried.
"It's nothing serious."
"Don't push yourself."
That was all he said before turning forward and walking on.
Nale watched his back disappear, then continued walking.
The door to room 102 opened just as he passed.
"Oh, Nale!"
Itadori Yuji came out. Tall, solidly built. Black spiky hair, a face that looked bright by nature. His voice was always a bit loud. His jacket was properly buttoned, and he already had his bag. For some reason, he was always ready early.
"Did you sleep okay last night? I heard you stayed in the medical wing."
"Yeah."
He couldn't quite meet his eyes. His gaze shifted slightly. Usually he could look at him normally, but this morning it was difficult.
"Is your injury okay?"
"It's fine."
Itadori leaned in slightly, as if to look closer. It was more of a checking gesture than worry. Nale's eyes almost met his, and he dropped his gaze to the floor.
"Don't push yourself, okay?"
"Yeah."
Fushiguro had said the same thing just moments ago, he thought. But the same words felt different somehow. He couldn't quite figure out why they felt different.
"Let's head to class."
Itadori started walking first. Nale waited a beat before following.
They left the dormitory and walked toward the main building. They passed the training building—called "the Box"—a structure about the size of two gymnasiums combined. A barrier was set up inside so that full-power techniques wouldn't affect the outside. He'd practiced hand-to-hand combat here many times standing beside Itadori.
Beyond that, the school's main building came into view. To ordinary people, it would look like a religious facility. Because of something called a veil—a barrier—anyone looking
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