Strictly speaking, even though it's "Club activity time," school is technically over.
Like most high schools in Japan, Kuoh Academy's schedule works so that once all classes for the day have finished, it's considered dismissal time.
However, students are allowed to remain on campus for a certain period to pursue extracurricular interests—in other words, Club activities.
The school also doesn't force students to return to their homerooms and wait for a formal dismissal announcement after club activities end. They can just pack up and leave on their own.
As for those who haven't joined any club, they can head straight home as soon as classes are over.
In other words, there's a "Go-Home Club" for that.
About half an hour has passed since the last class let out. Clubs are just beginning their activities, and the massive wave of the "Go-Home Club" has nearly emptied the campus.
The sun hasn't set yet, but its angle is now lower in the sky.
By the front gate—where only a few lingering students remain—a tall girl with dark purple hair stands quietly beside the security booth. She's holding a sword bag and gazing at the clouds taking on a soft, reddish hue. Her uniform clearly belongs to a different school.
Faint cheers from the sports teams practicing on Kuoh's athletic fields echo in the distance.
She waits there for several minutes, listening to the shouts from the fields. At last, amid that distant noise, footsteps become audible—steady, unhurried, drawing closer from afar.
A calm male voice calls out:
At the sound, Saeko Busujima draws her gaze from the horizon and turns in its direction.
The figure approaching is Bokue Keikain, who just got the call at the old schoolhouse and has made his way here.
With a polite tilt of her head, the swordswoman's quiet expression shows a faint smile.
"I'm Saeko Busujima, a third-year at Tokyo Jujutsu High. You should already know—I sent you a private message on the forum."
"Oh, right, I remember."
"Hello, I'm Marcus Aurelius."
Saeko stares blankly for an instant, as if an invisible progress bar of silence is loading over her head.
To be honest, she had worried about mixing up the wrong person. Online, you never know if the one replying is really the account owner.
But hearing that all-too-familiar line—"I'm Marcus Aurelius"—instantly sets her at ease.
Who else would say something that weird so offhandedly? It has to be him.
"…Haha, you sure like to joke around, Keikain-kun."
She shakes her head slightly, voice still calm and steady.
"Anyway, are your club activities finished? If possible, I'd like to find someplace else to talk more in depth about the issue from last night's post."
He agrees without hesitation.
Ten minutes later, they're seated at a quiet corner booth in a nearby café.
Saeko orders a cappuccino; Bokue casually gets a chocolate parfait.
He's a big-time dessert lover. Coffee is too bitter for his taste—he doesn't hate it, but he definitely prefers a sundae when he has the choice.
Taking a big spoonful of his parfait, Bokue breaks the ice.
"Y'know, I had a weird hunch when we met at the school gate. Busujima-senpai, have we run into each other somewhere before?"
It's such a cliché pickup line—"Have we met somewhere?"—she never expected he'd open with that. She can't fathom why he'd say it, but out of courtesy, she does think it over for a moment.
"I… don't believe so. Nothing comes to mind."
"No, no, I'm pretty sure we have."
Twisting the slender handle of his spoon between his fingers, Bokue lets the metal clink gently against the table.
"If I'm not mixing things up, it was last year at the National Traditional Martial Arts Tournament in Kyoto."
Those tournaments include archery, kendo, karate—pretty much anything considered a "traditional martial art" at the junior-high and high-school levels.
As soon as Bokue mentions this, Saeko—who was so certain a moment before—freezes again, her expression no longer as firm as it was.
"That… you're right. Last year I participated in the high-school division of the National Traditional Martial Arts Tournament in Kyoto—kendo, specifically. And…"
Bokue snaps his fingers lightly.
"I was there accompanying my little sister, who was in the archery competition. I remember seeing you at the awards ceremony—you were up on the podium. I think you won first place, right? Pretty impressive."
"Heh, you flatter me. That day, I just happened to be in really good form."
Saeko offers a modest smile. Even after being recognized as a champion, she shows no trace of arrogance—only humility.
"It's partly because of my family situation. My father trained me since I was a child, so I do have a leg up in kendo compared to many my age."
"My father is the current head of the Busujima style of kendo."
Bokue instantly grasps the context.
The Busujima style is fairly well-known in Japan's kendo circles.
While it may not be quite as famous as some top schools like the Hokushin Ittō-ryū or Satsuma Jigen-ryū, it's still considered a respected tradition. Any art that's endured through centuries of turmoil has real credibility.
"Still, why would the daughter of a prestigious kendo family become a Jujutsu Sorcerer?" Bokue can't help asking.
"It's… just a personal choice." Saeko maintains her polite smile. "My father supports me in it, too."
——[What she meant: it's private, so mind your own business.]
Sensing that pushing further might be rude, Bokue wisely drops the subject.
Saeko, seeing that chit-chat is out of the way, gets straight to the point.
"All right, let's discuss the main issue. About that finger in the photo you posted last night: as I said in my private message, it's a Special-Grade Cursed Object sealed by Tokyo Jujutsu High and the Jujutsu Association. It's extremely dangerous, so if possible, we'd like you to hand it over right now."
"Uh, well… I guess that wouldn't be impossible." The rightful source is novel✦fire.net
Taking another spoonful of his parfait, Bokue sets the spoon down, reaches into his pocket—and after a two-second pause, he pulls out a small plastic bag filled with dark brown, broken fragments. He pushes it across the table.
"But I kinda already broke it…"
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