Jujutsu Kaisen — Chapter 28 - Embers of the Bonfire, The Storm Approaches

"Megumi! Make Wangcai breathe fire!"

In the sprawling courtyard of the Fushiguro household, Toji stood shirtless, his muscles gleaming bronze under the setting sun.

He hoisted an entire dressed lamb in one hand and bellowed at his son, who sat on a tiny camp stool nearby.

Megumi fixed him with dead-fish eyes, staring speechlessly at the shouting green gorilla.

"Dad, dogs can't breathe fire," the four-year-old corrected, voice flat. "And its name is Divine Dogs. Not Wangcai."

"That's not important! What matters is spirit!" Toji hurled the lamb onto the grill. It landed with a thunderous BANG that rattled the entire barbecue setup.

"Today is the great day we celebrate you awakening the Ten Shadows Technique! Without blazing flames, how can youth be ignited!"

The two Divine Dogs, one black and one white, sat obediently at Megumi's feet. Each had a bundle of firewood clamped in its jaws, fetched from the back hills.

Megumi watched his overly excited old man and sighed inwardly.

Those people from the technical college had spent days praising the Ten Shadows Technique like it was something incredible. But he had a feeling that in his father's eyes, these dogs were probably most useful for fetching balls or biting people.

Tsumiki was wearing a tiny pink apron and clutching a notepad, looking every bit the commander-in-chief.

"Gojo big brother! Stop sneaking the washed lettuce!" Tsumiki's brows shot up as she jabbed a finger at the white-haired giant skulking nearby.

"Eh? I didn't do anything." Satoru Gojo hid his hands behind his back, still crunching loudly, his pale blue eyes blinking with complete innocence. "The lettuce flew into my mouth on its own. It wanted to be eaten too badly."

"Geto big brother! Do something about him!"

Suguru Geto was miserably hacking through onions, tears streaming down his face from the fumes.

"Tsumiki, you overestimate me. I can't even control my own tears. How am I supposed to control this lunatic?"

Kento Nanami stood expressionless at the charcoal stove, heatproof gloves on, mechanically coaxing the coals to life.

"Nanami, make the fire hotter! Put in the same effort you use to hack apart Cursed Spirits!" Toji walked over on his hands, used his toes to clamp a bottle of cumin powder, and sprinkled it precisely over the roasting lamb.

The fire tongs in Nanami's grip nearly snapped. If murder weren't a crime, he would be stuffing red-hot charcoal down this deranged teacher's throat right now.

Nearby, Riko Amanai and Misato Kuroi had also been conscripted into labor.

Riko was dressed in light sportswear and frantically washing tomatoes.

"Hey! Stinky old man! Didn't you invite us as guests? Why am I washing vegetables!" Riko huffed and slammed a tomato into the basin. Water splashed all over her face.

"Youth supports no idle hands!" Toji gave a thumbs-up. "Only food you prepared with your own sweat can be converted into the purest strength!"

Riko rolled her eyes.

But she didn't complain again. Instead, she grinned and flicked water onto Misato Kuroi's face.

Ever since the Star Plasma Vessel incident was resolved, she had finally started living the normal life of a middle school girl. No more pursuit from the Time Vessel Association. No more countdown to the Merger. Just after-school volleyball club and endless homework.

This grounded, ordinary feeling — it was truly so good.

Night fell quickly.

A massive bonfire roared to life in the center of the courtyard, its flames painting everyone's face deep red. The sizzling aroma of roasting meat drifted through the air.

Toji stood at the main grill, both hands dissolving into a blur of afterimages, iron skewers dancing above the charcoal.

"Watch closely! This is my special Konoha Secret Blazing Barbecue Technique! Flip at extreme speed, and the meat juices are perfectly sealed inside the fibers!"

"So fast!" Yu Haibara cupped his face in both hands, eyes full of stars. "It's like art! As expected of Fushiguro-sensei!"

Nanami pushed up his reflective glasses. "Haibara, your blind worship needs treatment."

Shoko leaned against a veranda pillar, a cup of sake she'd liberated from Toji's liquor cabinet in hand, watching the farce with quiet amusement.

"Not bad." She took a sip. "Fushiguro-sensei's brain may not be entirely right, but his cooking is genuinely excellent."

Toji hoisted a beer stein bigger than his own head and stepped up onto a chair.

The whole gathering went quiet. Everyone looked at him.

Megumi instinctively covered his face. This embarrassing old man was about to have another episode.

"Today!" Toji's voice boomed like thunder. "Is to celebrate my great son, Megumi! Taking his first formal step toward becoming strong!"

He reached out and scooped Megumi up, tucking him under one arm.

Megumi struggled twice and couldn't break free. He went deadpan and played possum.

"Some of you might think bloodline and talent come first." Toji swept his gaze around the courtyard, letting it linger on Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto. "Bullshit!"

"Talent is only the entry ticket. Sweat is the passport! Without hellish tempering, even the best talent is garbage!" Toji raised his glass high. That familiar tearful gleam was welling up in his eyes again. "To burning youth! To bonds that never give up! Cheers!"

"Sensei is right! Cheers!" Haibara was the first to leap up, raising his juice cup and shouting until his voice cracked.

"Cheers!" Riko and Tsumiki clinked glasses, laughing.

Satoru Gojo sprawled on a lounge chair and lazily lifted his can. "Noisy as hell, but the meat's pretty good. I'll reluctantly cheers to that."

Suguru Geto smiled and took a sip of beer.

Watching this noisy crowd in front of him, he found himself thinking that maybe the whole point of protecting the weak was exactly this, guarding ordinary, clamorous days like tonight.

He could not let the curses outside shatter this peace.

Halfway through the party, the atmosphere hit its peak.

Whether Toji's toast had gotten to him, or he'd just eaten too much barbecue and the blood had gone to his head, Haibara suddenly tore open his jacket to reveal a bright green spandex suit underneath, identical to Toji's.

"Fushiguro-sensei!" Haibara's eyes blazed as he announced at the top of his lungs, "I've decided! I want to become a hot-blooded man who pours out sweat, just like you! Tomorrow's weighted run — please increase my load to eighty jin!"

"That's my boy! You've got guts!" Toji was so moved that snot and tears ran freely down his face. He grabbed Haibara in a bear hug, and the two of them bawled together beside the bonfire like a pair of gorillas. "Now this is youth! Tonight we drink until we drop — tomorrow morning, five o'clock, assemble at the training ground!"

The piece of grilled meat in Kento Nanami's hand fell to the ground.

He stared at the night sky in despair. This life was unbearable. He wanted to withdraw from the school. Right now. Immediately.

Satoru Gojo doubled over laughing, jabbing a finger at Nanami's expression. "Geto, look at Nanami's face! Doesn't he look like he just ate a dishrag that hasn't been washed in three days?"

Suguru Geto turned his head expressionlessly. "Satoru. Did you forget you have to run a hundred laps tomorrow?"

Satoru Gojo's laughter cut off.

He stared at the empty can in his hand. Suddenly the barbecue didn't taste so good anymore.

The night deepened. The bonfire's flames shrank lower and lower.

Full and satisfied, everyone sprawled across the courtyard lawn in small clusters. Megumi leaned against the soft belly of a Divine Dog, already nodding off. Tsumiki and Riko were huddled together, whispering about which brand of hair conditioner worked best.

Everything felt peaceful. Perfect.

CLICK!

The courtyard's sliding door opened.

Masamichi Yaga's tall figure appeared beneath the porch eaves. He wasn't wearing his usual casual clothes. He had on a crisp black Jujutsu High uniform, brow deeply furrowed.

The tranquil courtyard went still the moment his presence entered it. Something in his bearing was wrong, and everyone felt it.

Yaga strode down the steps. His gaze swept over the scattered wreckage of the barbecue before settling on Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto.

"Old man, coming by this late to mooch food? Meat's all gone." Toji tossed his iron skewer onto the table, tone breezy.

"I didn't come to eat." Yaga removed his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes. They were red.

He glanced at the drowsy Megumi and lowered his voice.

"The special training ends here."

Satoru Gojo raised an eyebrow. Suguru Geto sat up straight. Even Nanami lifted his head in surprise.

"What, did someone finally realize that having a monkey with zero Cursed Energy teach us is a waste of time?" A teasing smirk pulled at Satoru Gojo's lips.

Yaga looked at the students in front of him. The exhaustion in his voice was impossible to miss. "Jujutsu Headquarters just issued an emergency dispatch order. Over the past several weeks, Cursed Spirit manifestation rates nationwide have shown explosive growth. The reports from the Window side have already buried my entire desk."

"We're critically short on manpower. Even I have to personally lead a team to Kansai." Yaga paused. His tone went sharp. "Regardless of what level your physical training has reached — starting tomorrow, all sorcerers Grade Two and above, including first-year students, are to be deployed to the front lines for extermination missions."

The air solidified.

The courtyard that had been filled with laughter and noise moments ago was now left with nothing but the faint crackling of the dying fire.

Suguru Geto's brow furrowed. A massive Cursed Spirit outbreak meant massive casualties among non-sorcerers. It meant grinding, back-to-back missions with no end in sight.

This wasn't normal. The manifestation rate was never this severe.

Satoru Gojo, on the other hand, licked his lips. "Finally, a chance to stretch. I was starting to grow mushrooms."

Toji said nothing.

He looked down at his son sleeping by his feet. Then he looked out past the courtyard walls at the darkness beyond, deep and bottomless.

Jujutsu's higher-ups. That pack of old dogs reeking of rot. Choosing this exact moment to make their move, pushing every available body out the door at once.

Was it really just a Cursed Spirit outbreak?

➤ Next: Ten Thousand Punches to Shatter the Confusion