Frieren — Chapter 217 - An Isekai Life That Doesn't Start From Zero
After everything ended, everyone's paths diverged.
Tokyo had been nearly destroyed. The entire nation ground to a halt. The economic damage was staggering, eventually, inevitably, it would find its way back to the people who called this country home.
And on top of that, the existence of cursed spirits was now fully exposed. The world tumbled into a new round of chaos.
But only curses can overcome curses.
The existence of Jujutsu Sorcerers stepped formally onto the world's stage.
Sorcerers with criminal records, like Higuruma Hiromi, were working their way back toward ordinary lives. Whether they would become full-time sorcerers or return to what they'd done before, that was down to each person's own choice.
What about the ancient sorcerers who had come to this era through Incarnation?
Shi Liulong, for instance. Usagi Kyoko. And the one released after the dust settled, Angel.
Angel believed she should never have been born into this era to begin with. Sukuna, the Fallen One, was dead. So she, too, should return to death.
Shi Liulong and Usagi Kyoko, on the other hand, had every intention of staying.
Shi Liulong had heard this era had an abundance of sweets, actual sweets, the edible kind, and planned to enjoy life fully before saying a proper goodbye.
Usagi Kyoko was simply dissatisfied with her past life and intended to live a new one entirely.
No one was going to hold that against them. Usagi Kyoko wasn't bothering anyone. She helped Jujutsu High with exorcisms. Her strength was more than considerable.
As for ordinary people who had been subjected to Incarnation, Tsumiki, for example, they offered sincere apologies after the fact and returned fully to their daily lives. Even with sorcerer's marks left on their bodies, most had no desire to spend their lives chasing cursed spirits.
Speaking of Tsumiki, her "father", Fushiguro Toji, had vanished after the decisive battle.
By his own account, he had no particular attachment to the human world. He didn't believe his presence would make Fushiguro Megumi or Tsumiki's lives any better.
[When you get down to it, I'm not necessarily the Fushiguro Toji you knew.]
Saying something like that, the man walked out the door on his own terms, just like Sasuke leaving after the Final Valley. Cursed Tools in hand, he drifted across the world, betting on horse races and killing cursed spirits, and little else.
Never mind. Forget it.
Fushiguro Megumi himself was fairly clear-eyed about the whole thing.
He didn't believe blood ties could replace time actually spent together. Acknowledging Fushiguro Toji as a "father" was something he couldn't quite manage.
Glancing at the occasional texts was enough.
They still needed time.
Tsukumo was out surfing the world again.
Okkotsu Yuta was preparing to inherit the role Gojo Satoru had carried. His performance in the war against Sukuna had been exceptional, he was already faintly poised to inherit the title of "the Strongest of the Modern Era."
Geto Suguru had lost almost all of his cursed spirits once more. His strength was still formidable, but he stepped back from the front line and returned to teaching, nurturing the next generation.
The new generation, the Hasaba twins among them, were all growing fast.
And the one growing fastest, without question.
Was Itadori Yuji.
Because when this war ended, there was still one thing left. Don't forget,
[Sukuna still has ten fingers that were never eliminated]
Sukuna had acknowledged his defeat. His original intention had been to release his entire soul and reincarnate alongside Uraume.
As the former Fallen One, standing at the pinnacle of the jujutsu world, Sukuna knew with certainty that this world possessed something called reincarnation.
Perhaps there really was a hell, too.
Those who sow calamity upon the world, they fall into hell.
So why had Sukuna, the King of Curses who had once done exactly as he pleased, willingly become a cursed object, driven to cross a thousand years just to live again?
For one thing, just as Shi Liulong had said, he wasn't satisfied. Not yet.
No matter how much he denied it. No matter how emphatically he insisted on the way of the strong, on living as a curse. None of it explained his own choices.
Deep within the King of Curses, perhaps he had been waiting for something, something he couldn't put into words himself, to be born in the world a thousand years after the Heian era.
And alongside that expectation, perhaps there was also a rejection of hell.
Sukuna did not fear hell. Not punishment. Not suffering. What he feared was simpler: he viewed hell as a form of defeat.
[The Ullambana Sutra records: Venerable Maudgalyayana saw his deceased mother fallen into the realm of hungry ghosts, suffering torments like one hung upside down, and sought help from the Buddha.]
Sukuna had chosen the Day of Ullambana as the day of his decisive battle.
In his heart, he believed the mother who gave birth to him would fall into purgatory. He believed that was the act of the weak.
He had denied the path of humanity and chosen to be a curse.
Now, in defeat, he had no choice but to examine himself again.
Even if hell was real, Sukuna would likely accept it.
That said, according to Jujutsu High's assessment after the fact, Sukuna at ten fingers no longer qualified as a particularly dangerous incident in the jujutsu world. And Special Grade cursed objects could themselves function as talismans, so the precise timing of Sukuna's reincarnation remained, for now, an open question.
Until that day, a fragment of Sukuna's consciousness would remain within Itadori's body.
His already extraordinary talent, pushed by that presence, was growing at a breakneck pace.
In another ten years, maybe even less, he would stand as an existence comparable to Special Grade.
When that time came, this world would have Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Tsukumo Yuki, Okkotsu Yuta, Itadori Yuji, and a whole generation of excellent sorcerers.
So.
[It's alright, even without me.]
.....................
..........
"Based on my experience, the final chapter of a manga usually kicks off the ship pairings."
"Naruto ends up with Hinata, Sasuke ends up with Haruno Sakura... though our Jujutsu High students don't seem particularly interested in keeping things in-house."
The iron door swung open. Wind moved in first, wrapping around their shoulders.
Gojo Satoru and Himmel stepped out. Gojo Satoru had his black sunglasses on, dressed in black from collar to shoe, ticking complaints about shonen manga off on his fingers.
"Though I've never actually seen a manga where the protagonist leaves the main cast in the last chapter... Does Fairy Tail count? No, probably not. That's more like Beelzebub. If I had to name one, it'd be Gintama."
"Heh."
Himmel just smiled at the teasing.
He looked up at the sky. The colors of dusk flickered and swam in his azure pupils.
"Twilight is swift," Himmel said, raising one finger. "It has the nature of flight. Twilight is perhaps the wings of this world. Just as a bee flashes color into view when it beats its wings gathering nectar, the world too — in that instant — flashes the possibility of its own flight. All things in the hour of twilight dance and weave in intoxication and rapture, and finally plummet to their death."
"Whoa."
Gojo Satoru let out an involuntary sound by the rooftop door.
"Himmel, did you swap out the evening news for Yukio Mishima?"
"Hmph, impressive, right?"
The Hero tilted his chin up, proud.
Ever since Frieren had complained about him not reading enough, Himmel had gone and read a little, somewhat grudgingly.
But it was only when truly standing here at the railing that the words meant anything. Twilight as the world's fleeting wings. He understood it now.
Colors spread wild across the sky. Crimson, violet, honey-gold. All the small, scattered joys and sorrows of ordinary life seemed futile against a sunset like this.
"No beautiful thing lasts forever."
"And stories always end."
Himmel stood with his back to Gojo Satoru, phone in hand.
His thumb moved, and the photos in his gallery turned one by one.
[Everyone piled together at the dessert buffet, herded into position by Shi Liulong]
[The first hotpot after coming back to daily life, following the end of the Sukuna-Slaying Continent]
[A summer beach trip, a freeze-frame of the Jujutsu High students caught mid-jump against the fading light]
[Geto Suguru in an apron at the barbecue grill by the camping tent, Gojo Satoru sneaking food beside him, and Ieiri Shoko sneaking food off Gojo Satoru's plate]
[Himmel with one arm around Okkotsu Yuta and one arm around Itadori Yuji, Gojo Satoru sitting on his head, a group photo]
.......
And underneath the photos, the memories kept surfacing. Everything since he'd arrived in this world.
At the very beginning, Gojo Satoru had just been a high school kid. The guy standing behind him now was a dependable, grown-up teacher pushing thirty.
The loose, easygoing days of high school. Nine years, busy but full. The major events that came one after another.
Meeting Okkotsu Yuta for the first time. The Shibuya Incident. The Culling Game. And finally, settling everything with the King of Curses.
Himmel had seen so much. Far too much.
So,
"I should get going."
Silence settled for two seconds. Then Gojo Satoru's voice came through, close to a sigh.
"......Hah."
His sunglasses were still on. His expression was hard to read.
"Look, I already know you've said a proper goodbye to everyone."
"And I know everyone crying their eyes out makes the whole thing worse."
"I also know I got volunteered for this, something about being the most suited to send you off."
"But even I know you're supposed to say something heartfelt at a time like this. So I'll just play along."
Gojo Satoru took off his sunglasses.
This was probably a side of him the students rarely got to see. The earnest face of the man called Gojo Satoru.
"Don't worry."
"Even after you leave, there's still me. There's still Suguru."
"If Suguru and I are gone, there's still Okkotsu Yuta."
"When Okkotsu Yuta gets old, there's still Itadori Yuji. He's half-human, half-cursed spirit, he should hold out for a long, long time."
"And while he's alive, he'll absolutely raise some reliable juniors."
"So —"
Gojo Satoru raised his hand, five fingers spread wide. His smile was like the early summer sun. Clean. Open.
"We're not that fragile."
"Go on, don't worry! I'll burn incense for you every year!"
"Don't burn incense! I said I'll come back occasionally!" Himmel shot back, laughing.
"Hee hee."
Gojo Satoru grinned, making a face on purpose.
But.
Himmel smiled too. Something warm and settled in it.
He turned away.
Staying any longer would only make leaving harder.
He was ready to answer the goddess's call, but just as he turned his head away,
"Hey, Himmel."
"Hm?"
"You remember that meteor shower we watched back in high school?"
Himmel's hand paused. The memory came back quickly, everything from that night.
For him, having become a long-lived species, it felt no further away than yesterday.
"Of course." Himmel nodded.
Gojo Satoru kept going, still smiling. "Didn't I complain about it at the time? Said it wasn't even rare. Apparently it's the kind that comes around every year."
"So... next time we get the chance, let's go see one that's actually rare. Actually beautiful. All of us, together."
"........"
Himmel turned back.
He looked at the white-haired young man. A bit taller than nine years ago. His face had picked up a few more lines of maturity, subtle, but there.
This conversation, though. It was so familiar. Like what had passed between them wasn't nine years, but sixty.
He laughed.
"Alright."
.
"Hello, Mr. Himmel."
"It is my pleasure to inform you: just now, you completed all tasks in the Jujutsu Kaisen world."
"It was a magnificent journey."
The vast space stretched in every direction. Mist rose from the ground, curling upward. The firmament above was dark blue, close to the color of a starfield, and nothing within it could be called a boundary.
Before him stood a young woman with long white hair.
"It isn't Miss Aqua this time."
"Heh heh — Senior Aqua stepped out for a bit. Something came up."
The white-haired goddess smiled softly.
"This assignment has been transferred to me. Of course, if you'd like to rest —"
"No need."
The Hero stretched, rolling his shoulders.
"I've already rested. Rested quite well."
".....I understand."
The new goddess smiled gently.
"In that case, for this assignment, I'll be arranging a few traveling companions for you. I hope you'll all get along."
"Of course."
Himmel's smile was warm.
He was fairly confident there wasn't a type of person he couldn't get along with.
"Then —"
Like the special effects of Jacob's Ladder in motion, a pillar of light erupted from the darkness stretching toward the horizon, piercing straight through heaven and earth. White feathers scattered and drifted. And somewhere in the distance, just barely, the tolling of a tall bell tower.
"I wish you a safe journey."
[.]
.
When Himmel opened his eyes again, he found nothing but a desolate wasteland.
The earth was buried thick under fine black ash. Even on instinct alone, the Hero could sense the toxicity in it. The corrosion was extreme.
"This really is....."
He reached out cautiously. The moment his arm touched the ash, a burning sensation bloomed across his skin.
Not enough to corrode a Hero's body. But for an ordinary human, it would likely mean carbonization. Death by scorching.
As far as the eye could see, not a blade of grass broke the surface. Nothing but an endless, gray-white stretch of scorched earth. The land had been torn apart. Mountains had collapsed. Oceans had evaporated.
This place was in far worse shape than the world Gojo and the others had lived in.
Himmel walked forward. He was just about to get a better look at this new world when,
"Hey, Mister Hero. Don't go walking off so fast on your own."
A voice came from behind.
Familiar. And yet, strange.
Strange because that voice, that particular bright, clear quality to it, felt like something he'd heard a very, very long time ago.
Himmel turned his head.
His vision swayed slightly from turning too fast.
The figure stood backlit, silhouette blurred at the edges.
Black monk's robes.
A green slicked-back hairstyle.
Those sanctimonious little glasses.
Without a doubt.
".....You —"
The Hero, who had never once shown anything like a loss of composure in front of Gojo and the others, went still. His eyes slowly widened.
"Oh. Nice expression."
The man with the little glasses smirked. Hands clasped behind his back, he started walking toward Himmel.
", Don't just leave people standing there."
A dwarf leaned out from behind the monk, body tilted sideways. He looked exactly the way Himmel remembered him.
"Yo."
His tone was flat. The Hero had just managed to surface from his daze, an unthinking smile at the corner of his mouth, two quick steps forward, arms starting to open, and the dwarf held up a hand.
"Don't rush the hug just yet. Save the first one for her."
"Huh?"
Only then did Himmel look around properly.
His current location seemed to be a canyon, blasted out by some kind of heavy ordnance this world had seen. The canyon walls sloped upward on both sides. Himmel had been in the middle section, heading down, but with people behind him, he looked up.
Under a blood-red sky, endless toxic ash drifted slowly, ceaselessly downward. It dyed everything in the world a dead shade of gray-red.
Shattered walls. Barren plains. A withered, silent earth.
The apocalypse soaked through every inch of it, pressing down beneath that crimson dome, heavy and still.
But in the Hero's eyes, she was something else entirely.
At the highest point of the canyon, closest to the sky, the girl stood with her back to him. The ends of her hair drifted fine threads of luminous white. A pair of slender, translucent pointed ears caught the light.
A fake?
Some kind of transformation technique?
No.
His soul told him.
That was the real thing.
".....Hah."
Memories of the past surfaced, one on top of another.
[What flashed through the Hero's mind, a full ten years of journeying together]
Blooming azure moon grass. Silver-white hair drifting in the wind. A magic barrier raised between him and harm. Stardust scattering across an entire mountain. Frame after frame crashed into his mind too fast to hold, and before he could see any one of them clearly, the next had already taken its place.
And at the end of it, just like a moment ago: the corners of his mouth curved upward. Something he didn't even notice himself doing.
The girl still had her back to him. But perhaps only someone who knew her well, truly well, would notice that her fingers were trembling, just slightly.
", I only came out for a bit. If we can, let's wrap up this world's task as quickly as possible."
She seemed unsure what to say. So she steered everything toward business, as if that would make it easier.
Himmel didn't break the moment. He swallowed the laugh rising in his chest and fell into step beside her.
"How quick is 'as quickly as possible'?"
"Well...."
The mage laughed softly.
"About ten years or so."
.
The Saga of Himmel, the Hero Who Wants to Resign
End.