“Let’s just go back,” Maki Zenin said.

  “Agreed,” Mai Zenin replied.

  They realized at the same time that they had said the same thing, glared at each other, then turned away. When they tried to leave, their steps matched again, and they both turned back.

  “What are you doing?” one asked.

  “I should be asking you that,” the other shot back.

  Caught in the middle, Momo Nishimiya spread her hands. “You are both tall for nothing.”

  “Leaving already?” Satoru Gojo leaned over.

  “It is almost your turn to film,” Akira leaned in as well.

  “You can play this stupid game yourselves,” Maki Zenin said without turning around.

  “I am just helping arrange the shoot,” Akira protested.

  Mai Zenin handled it better. The people opposite included two Special Grade, one close to that level, and the last at least Grade One. She chose her words carefully.

  “We are only warming up,” Yuta Okkotsu explained. “The real shoot uses a different script.”

  “Salmon.” Toge Inumaki repeated like a broken record.

  “Even so, the real shoot still sounds strange,” Momo Nishimiya said. “Not cute at all.”

  As the twins started clashing again, Momo Nishimiya had to step in herself. Before she could say more, a familiar shout rang out.

  “Satoru Gojo! You jerk! What are you trying to do this time?”

  Utahime Iori stormed over in denim overalls, having changed out of her shrine maiden outfit. She grabbed Satoru Gojo’s clothes and shook him the same way Maki Zenin had shaken Akira earlier.

  She had been in the infirmary with Shoko Ieiri tending the injured when Satoru Gojo called out of nowhere. He only said to come to the new Hailan Zhijia downtown, bring her voice, and bring Yoshinobu Gakuganji, then hung up. When she called back, he did not answer, and Utahime Iori was so angry she almost threw her phone.

  Shoko Ieiri talked her down, reminding her what kind of person Satoru Gojo was. As usual, she leaned into Shoko Ieiri for comfort, something she had done since their school days. Sometimes she went to Mei Mei instead, but not too often, since that cost money.

  Annoyed as she was, she still came. Someone had to keep an eye on the biggest troublemaker in the Jujutsu World. This was Kyoto, the base of Conservative Faction, and certain people had been looking for trouble for a long time.

  The unresolved matter with Q from Curse User Organization was still hanging, and now there was also Yuta Okkotsu’s situation. Yoshinobu Gakuganji arrived without complaint, though his expression was far from friendly.

  Satoru Gojo remained calm. “We agreed, right? You sing, Yoshinobu Gakuganji plays. Right here. We dance along, snap, snap, snap.”

  With three snaps, Gojo Satoru returned to the spotlight. To many girls, it would have been irresistible. To Utahime Iori, it was only annoying.

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  “I refuse. Stay away from me.”

  “Then I will let the lead creator talk to you,” Satoru Gojo said, turning to leave and calling out, “Ari.”

  “I am here,” Akira said, stepping forward. “Utahime Iori, Yoshinobu Gakuganji, this is a song and score I wrote. I never found the right singer or player. Please take a look.”

  He handed over two sheets of paper. Utahime Iori and Yoshinobu Gakuganji had no expectations and only glanced at them out of courtesy. Once they started reading, they could not stop.

  “Lost in paradise,” Utahime Iori read softly. “A rap track, with electronic elements. This is good.”

  It was the first ending song of Jujutsu Kaisen. Its catchy melody and visuals had once caused a huge craze. Most of the lyrics were in English and easy to remember, and Akira had even taken time to learn it before his life changed and brought him into a world much like the one in the song.

  Sixteen years passed, and he forgot most other songs. This one stayed clear in his mind, waiting for a chance to return. Whether due to connections involving Mei Mei or simply because music was the livelihood of Utahime Iori and Yoshinobu Gakuganji, they picked it up fast and performed smoothly.

  A full audio and visual show began. The elder from Conservative Faction dropped his usual style, tied his jacket at his waist, and grabbed an electric guitar like an electronic rocker. Utahime Iori cast off her formal teacher image, put on a cap, flashed rap gestures, and sang with a freestyle flow.

  The dancers, now changed, moved in and out of the fitting rooms, walking with the beat and striking poses. Soon, the entire Hailan Zhijia was filled with that strangely addictive sound.

  “Satoru Gojo, Satoru Gojo!”

  “Lost in paradise Night and day are fading out Keep on dance now!”

  This was a full audio and visual feast. Idol level looks that could carry a career by face alone, paired with two musicians at a near top tier level in the industry, plus dance steps that had already been proven in another world and were simple yet strangely catchy. Even without post production, the quality was still shockingly high.

  The filming supervisor that Mai Zenin pulled in through connections asked more than once where these people came from. Were they signed, and if not, could they please consider it, with the most generous Benefits on offer. The man looked so sincere that it almost felt wasteful to say no.

  “Mai Zenin-miss, please think about it too,” he added. “If you debut together with your sister, you would absolutely become a wildly popular twin duo.”

  That nearly got him punched. He had managed to poke exactly the sore spot. Mai Zenin refused with a cold face, and even without this incident, the result would never have changed.

  Just look at who was present. If Makoto wanted to enter the entertainment industry, they would buy a company outright. Signing a contract was an insult. Even I, the weakest one here, would not care, let alone them.

  “Mai Zenin, does signing earn a lot of money?” “Mai Zenin, if you sign, can you meet Sebastian?”

  “Kasumi, Momo…” Mai Zenin groaned.

  Right, Kasumi Miwa was short on cash, and Momo Nishimiya was a hardcore idol fan. My teammates, and my sister’s teammates too. There was really nothing to be done about that.

  “Wow, awesome.” “I almost did not recognize you, Maki Zenin.” “Maki Zenin, very beautiful. It suits you.” “Salmon.”

  A useful fact was that no matter what you filmed, makeup was unavoidable. Otherwise, once the lights came on, you would look pale like a ghost. Maki Zenin never wore makeup, but this time she was forced into it, and the result was unexpectedly welcome.

  Calling it a duckling turning into a swan would be an exaggeration, but a striking transformation was undeniable. That sharp, heroic air that outshone most men was still there, and even during their strained sister phase, Mai Zenin stared in a daze. She could already feel herself being compared again.

  She glanced at a boy from the same year without thinking, only to find that he was not looking at Maki Zenin at all. So there were people who did not fall for this, huh. Then why was he smiling so happily?

  Did Makoto really like shooting MVs that much? If so, maybe she could do something with that. The girl’s lips curved into an enticing smile as she looked at the filming supervisor with a slightly different gaze.

  All of this was completely unknown to Akira, and he had no mind to care. He was fully immersed in the joy of a plan succeeding, no, of exceeding expectations. The Hailan Zhijia joke had landed, the MV was shot, and more importantly, something else had worked out.

  “What are you smiling at, Makoto, that is disgusting.”

  Surrounded and praised until she felt awkward, Maki Zenin finally found an outlet. “You guess,” Akira replied, not angry at all and clearly teasing.

  Unfortunately, he only managed that for less than a second before Satoru Gojo saw through it. Satoru Gojo walked behind him to the pile of stored items, moved aside the instrument case that Yoshinobu Gakuganji had brought for the Electric Guitar, and lifted out a small blue, round little creature from the corner.