絆 | bond | gojo satoru

よんじゅういち | forty one

絆 | kizuna | bond

41

day one before the execution

The news of Yuri Hiyoku's impending execution on December 24th, 2005, spread like wildfire, yet there was no remorse in the hearts of those who heard it. The first countdown began on December 18th, 2005, marking seven days leading to her brutal fate.

December 18th, 2005

In the midst of the bustling Shibuya cityscape, where people moved like an unending current, Toji found a moment of stillness. The air carried a chill that matched the plain grey sky, bereft of any hint of sunshine. His hands deftly retrieved a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, a ritual that unfolded with practiced precision. The lighter flickered to life, casting a brief glow as it ignited the tip of the cigarette. Toji drew in the smoke, letting the acrid taste permeate his senses before exhaling a heavy sigh.

Leaning against a pillar, his broad shoulders bore the weight of the physical toll inflicted by Yuri's unrelenting assault. Unhealed bruises and wounds adorned his frame, visible evidence of a recent encounter that hadn't been in his favor. Shibuya's busy crowd painted a stark contrast to the internal storm that brewed within Toji.

His scarf, more than a mere accessory against the chill, served a dual purpose—concealing the injuries that marked his body. Toji adjusted it carefully, a subtle attempt to mask the visible aftermath of the fierce altercation. His eyes, however, betrayed no signs of pain; instead, they scanned the sea of faces with a piercing intensity.

The purpose behind Toji's presence in the city wasn't merely casual. It carried the weight of significance, an important rendezvous that demanded his attention. As the smoke from his cigarette mingled with the brisk air, Toji's thoughts seemed to linger in the space between the dense cityscape, contemplating the complexities of his circumstances.

Interrupted from his contemplation, Toji shifted his attention only minimally, refusing to break his stride. A voice cut through the ambient city sounds, addressing him directly. "You're quite early," the voice observed, but Toji, ever nonchalant, responded with a casual indifference that was characteristic of him. "Just got some business to take care of after this."

The words lingered in the brisk air, punctuating the scene of Shibuya's relentless movement. Despite the casual exchange, there was an unspoken weight beneath the surface—the undertone of Toji's response hinted at a purpose, a task that transcended the mundane.

In the bustling city, Naobito Zenin, the 26th head of the Zenin clan, made his presence known. Despite the urban surroundings, he carried the weight of tradition in his attire—a light gray haori draped over a dark blue yukata, adorned with a black hakama, white tabi, and zori sandals, giving him an air of ancient Japanese authority. The contrast of his traditional garb against the modern Shibuya backdrop made him stand out, a relic of the past blending with the contemporary.

Toji's uncle, though slightly weathered by the passage of time, exuded the same malevolence that Toji remembered from years past. The meeting between the two carried an unspoken tension, a history buried beneath the surface of familial ties. Despite Naobito's formal appearance, there was an unsettling quality to his presence, a stark reminder of the darker facets of their shared lineage.