JJK x Love Island AU, EP 4 - Second Date with Toji

💅 leave them sweating and walk away

The Villa Driveway — a sleek black town car idling under the fading evening sky.

You don't even look over your shoulder. You simply turn on your heel, letting the heavy, expectant silence stretch out behind you as you walk toward the glass doors. Nanami lets out a quiet, deeply appreciative exhale at your flawless exit, while the chaotic bickering on the deck abruptly dies, replaced by the sharp realization that you hold all the cards. By the time you step out front with a small overnight bag, the evening air has cooled, and the entire cast has followed you out like a trailing storm front. They arrange themselves around an idling black town car, the tension thick enough to choke on as Satoru, Suguru, and Toji crowd the front steps, waiting for your verdict.

Satoru Gojo: "Don't overthink it, Akari. You already know who makes the best plus-one."

Suguru Geto: "Let her choose, Satoru. Some of us don't need to beg for a seat at the table."

Toji Fushiguro: "Just pick someone so the rest of us can get to the alcohol."

Toji Fushiguro

You don't bother turning around to face the expectant crowd. You simply pause with your hand on the open door, tilt your head, and say his name into the heavy silence.

The solid thud of the car door closing behind him cleanly severs you from whatever chaos erupts on the villa steps. As the driver pulls away into the evening, the spacious leather interior instantly feels dangerously small. Toji slides in close beside you, his massive frame taking up more than his fair share of the backseat. He’s wearing a dark, crisp button-down left casually undone at the collar, the faint edge of his scar catching the passing streetlights. He stretches his long legs out, resting one heavy, muscular arm along the back of the seat right behind your shoulders. A slow, deeply entertained smirk spreads across his face as he looks you up and down.

Toji Fushiguro: "Leaving a bunch of Special Grades standing on the curb just to drive off with the anomaly. You really do know how to start a war, don't you?"

I finally turn to look at him—unhurried, as though I'd only just remembered he was there—and let my gaze drift from the open collar of his shirt to the pale scar at his mouth before meeting his eyes. "War," I echo, letting the word settle between us. Without breaking eye contact, I lift his arm from the back of the seat and set it back on his side of the leather. "I picked the only man in that villa who isn't performing for anyone." A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. "Don't flatter yourself, Toji." "I'm not starting a war." "I'm starting a conversation."

You turn your head with agonizing, deliberate slowness, letting the streetlights strobe through the tinted windows as your gaze trails up from his open collar to the pale scar at his mouth. You don't just hold his stare—you reach over, wrapping your hand around his heavy, muscular forearm, and physically lift it off the leather behind you, setting it firmly back on his side of the seat. Toji doesn't resist at all; he lets you move him, his dark eyes tracking your hand before snapping back up to your face, the lazy amusement in his expression instantly sharpening into a flash of genuine, predatory focus.

Toji Fushiguro: "A conversation. Good. Because I don't know how to play nice, and I charge extra for the boyfriend act. So what do you want to talk about?"

"Everyone keeps asking who Toji Fushiguro is." "I'm more interested in who you become when nobody needs anything from you."

You hold his gaze, the hum of the tires on the asphalt the only sound in the dark cabin. You tell him exactly what you see—that while everyone else in the villa is obsessed with the legend of Toji Fushiguro, you are only interested in who he becomes when nobody needs anything from him. The lazy amusement vanishes from his face, replaced by a stillness so absolute it feels heavy. He stares at you, the streetlights catching the sharp, sudden intensity in his dark eyes as the weight of being genuinely seen finally lands. He leans forward, closing the distance until you can smell the sharp scent of whiskey and clean soap on his collar.

My eyes search his for a long, quiet moment, taking in the man who's suddenly stopped performing. "There you are." My voice is barely above a whisper. "I was wondering how long it'd take before you looked at me instead of everyone else's idea of you." The corner of your mouth lifts. "I like this version better."

You search his dark eyes for a long, quiet moment, watching as the heavy, untouchable armor of the legendary mercenary completely dissolves in the dim light of the backseat. "There you are," you whisper, the words barely audible over the hum of the engine. You tell him you were wondering how long it would take before he looked at you instead of everyone else's idea of him. A small smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you admit you like this version better.

The lazy, predatory amusement vanishes from his face entirely. For a second, he just breathes, the passing streetlights casting long shadows over the sudden, raw intensity in his expression. He shifts his massive frame even closer, the leather creaking as his large, calloused hand comes up to gently cup the side of your neck. His thumb brushes over your pulse point, feeling exactly how steady you are under his touch. The car begins to slow as it approaches your mysterious destination, but Toji doesn't even glance out the window. His entire world has narrowed down to you.

My hand comes to rest lightly against his waist. I don't break eye contact. I don't need to. The car carries us through the night, and for the first time since leaving the villa, neither of us feels the need to fill the silence. "You know..." You study him with quiet curiosity. "I was wrong." His thumb stills. "I thought I'd chosen the most dangerous man in the villa." A slow smile. "Turns out..." "The dangerous part isn't that you could hurt me." Your eyes lock with his. "It's that you're making me want to find out who's behind all of this."

Your hand comes to rest lightly against his waist, feeling the dense, coiled muscle beneath his shirt as the car carries you through the neon-streaked night. When you finally break the comfortable silence to tell him the real danger is wanting to know who he actually is, his thumb goes perfectly still against your neck. He lets out a low, rough exhale, leaning his massive frame in until his forehead rests against yours, the scent of whiskey and clean soap wrapping entirely around you.

Toji Fushiguro: "Careful, Akari. You keep digging around in the dark, you might actually find him. And once you do, I'm not going to let you look away."

My thumb brushes lightly over the pale edge of the scar at the corner of his mouth. "Good." I hold his gaze without hesitation. "I wasn't planning to." The car eases to a stop, but I don't look toward the window. "I've spent the whole night looking for the man behind the legend." My smile is small, but certain. "I'd be disappointed if he disappeared now."

The muscle in his jaw flexes the second your thumb brushes the pale edge of the scar at his mouth. You hold his gaze without a flicker of hesitation, giving him that small, certain smile as you tell him you'd be disappointed if the real him disappeared now. As the car eases to a smooth stop, you don't even glance toward the window. The heavy, playful amusement completely drains from his face, leaving behind something raw and dangerously focused.

He doesn't pull away. Instead, his hand slides up from your waist, his large, calloused fingers tangling lightly in the hair at the nape of your neck, holding you exactly where you are. He turns his head just enough that his lips graze the pad of your thumb—a fleeting, electric ghost of a kiss—before his dark eyes lock back onto yours.

Toji Fushiguro: "Disappear? Sweetheart, you couldn't get rid of me now if you tried. Let's see if you can handle what you just woke up."

I don't move. Not an inch. My eyes stay on his, warm rather than challenging. "I know." My fingers linger against the scar for one last heartbeat before slipping away. "That's why I chose you." The driver clears his throat from the front. Neither of us looks away. The city has stopped moving outside the window. For another heartbeat, the world is nothing but the space between us.

You don't move an inch, holding his gaze with a warmth that completely disarms his predatory edge as your fingers linger against his scar for one last heartbeat before slipping away. You quietly confirm that this—the dangerous, unpolished truth of him—is exactly why you chose him, making the air in the cabin turn thick enough to cut. Even when the driver awkwardly clears his throat, neither of you looks away; the city outside has stopped, and for a long, heavy moment, the entire world is reduced to the electric space between you.

Toji Fushiguro: "You're a menace, sweetheart. Come on—let's see if the rest of the night can keep up with you."

I don't move. My eyes stay on his for one last second, memorizing the expression he'd stopped trying to hide. Then, without looking away, I murmur, "After you."

You memorize the raw, unmasked focus in his dark eyes—the look of a man who has finally stopped performing—before murmuring your command. For a split second, the heavy stillness holds. Then, a low, entirely genuine laugh rumbles deep in Toji's chest, shattering the suffocating tension into something wildly electric. Without breaking eye contact, he reaches blindly behind him and pops the heavy door open.

The cool rush of the city night spills into the dim cabin, carrying the distant hum of traffic and the neon glow of the street. Toji slides out in one fluid, effortless motion, his boots hitting the pavement. He immediately turns back, his massive frame blocking the streetlights as he extends a large, calloused hand into the car, waiting for you.

Toji Fushiguro: "As you wish, sweetheart. But once you step out of this car, I'm not playing nice anymore."

My gaze drops to his hand. A slow smile tugs at my lips. "You know..." I place my hand in his. "For someone who doesn't do the boyfriend act...""...you're making a very convincing first impression."

The moment your palm meets his, Toji's grip is firm and overwhelmingly warm, effortlessly pulling you from the leather seat. He doesn't let go once your boots hit the pavement; instead, he steps into your space, backing you gently until you're leaning against the warm hood of the town car. You're parked at a secluded overlook, the sprawling, neon-drenched skyline of the city glittering far below in the cool night air, completely isolated from the cameras and the chaos of the villa.

Toji Fushiguro: "Don't get used to it, sweetheart. I only put in this kind of effort when I'm planning on taking home the grand prize."

I laugh quietly. "You keep calling me the grand prize." I step just a little closer until there's barely any space left between us. "Funny." My fingers brush the edge of his collar. "I was just thinking I'd gotten lucky."

You laugh quietly, the sound soft but deliberate against the distant hum of the Tokyo skyline below. Stepping into the final fraction of space between you, you let your fingers brush the dark edge of his open collar. The heat radiating off his chest is immediate. When you tilt your head and murmur that you were just thinking you'd gotten lucky, the arrogant amusement completely vanishes from Toji's face. The dense muscles beneath your knuckles go perfectly rigid. For a second, he just stares down at you, his dark eyes searching yours for the punchline. When he doesn't find one, his hands slide off the warm hood of the car and settle heavily onto your hips, pulling you flush against him.

Toji Fushiguro: "Lucky."

Toji Fushiguro: "No one looks at a stray dog and calls themselves lucky, Akari. But if you're deciding I'm yours tonight... you'd better be prepared for how fiercely I guard what belongs to me."

I hold his gaze for a beat, not blinking, letting the weight of that land exactly where he meant it to. My fingers curl into the fabric at his collar—not pulling, just holding. "I walked away from the Zenin clan, Toji." My voice stays quiet. "I know what it costs to choose someone." A small smile. "And I don't make that choice lightly."

The name of the clan hits the cool air between you, and the change in him is instantaneous. The heavy, predatory amusement completely vanishes from his face. The muscle in his jaw jumps, and his hands on your hips flex—his grip turning almost bruising for a fraction of a second before he forces himself to ease up.

He stares down at you, the distant neon glow of the city catching the sudden, raw understanding in his dark eyes. Your fingers stay curled in his collar, feeling the steady, thudding heat of his pulse against your knuckles. The silence stretches, thick and electric, as the weight of your shared history settles over the hood of the car.

Toji Fushiguro: "Zenin."

Toji Fushiguro: "No wonder you don't flinch when I look at you. We're both strays who spat in the face of the elite. If you know what it costs, Akari... then you know I'm never letting you take this back."

I tighten my grip on his collar, refusing to look away. "Good." A quiet smile. "Then stop talking like I'm the only one who made a decision tonight." I step into his space. "You're not the only one who's staying."

You tighten your grip on the dark fabric of his collar, refusing to yield a single inch. A quiet smile touches your lips as you tell him to stop talking like he’s the only one who made a decision tonight. Stepping into the last sliver of space between you, you let him feel exactly how firmly you're planting yourself in his orbit, murmuring that he isn't the only one who's staying.

The breath Toji takes is sharp—the sudden, unguarded sound of a man completely disarmed. He exhales a rough, disbelieving laugh, his massive hands sliding from your hips to wrap fully around your waist, lifting you effortlessly to sit on the warm hood of the car. Reaching blindly into the open cabin behind him, he retrieves a heavy crystal tumbler and a bottle of expensive whiskey. He pours a neat measure in the neon-lit dark, his chest rising and falling heavily as he steps back between your knees and presses the glass into your hand.

Toji Fushiguro: "You're going to be the absolute ruin of me, Akari. Good thing I stopped giving a damn about playing it safe."

I smile, impossibly soft. "Then we're even." My fingers find his hand beneath the table, lacing with his without ceremony. "Because I stopped playing it safe the moment I chose you."

You let the heavy crystal tumbler rest on the warm metal of the hood, freeing your hand to find his in the narrow space between you. You lace your fingers through his without ceremony, your smile softening into something impossibly quiet as you tell him you stopped playing it safe the moment you chose him. Toji freezes, his gaze dropping to your intertwined hands before his thumb instinctively shifts to stroke the back of your knuckles. The distant sirens of Tokyo fade into white noise as he finally drops the very last of his armor, leaning in until his forehead rests lightly against yours in the neon-lit dark.

Toji Fushiguro: "I'll hold you to that. And don't think for a second I'm letting you change your mind tomorrow."

My smile softens. finish my whiskey in the quiet "Toji." I wait until he meets my eyes. "You don't have to keep convincing yourself I'll leave." My fingers squeeze his hand gently. "If I wanted to walk away..." A quiet smile. "...I never would've gotten into that car."

You tip the heavy crystal tumbler back, finishing your whiskey in the quiet chill of the overlook. Setting the empty glass aside on the warm metal, you wait until Toji finally lifts his guarded gaze to meet yours. Squeezing his large, calloused hand gently, your smile softens as you tell him he doesn't have to keep convincing himself you'll leave. You let the absolute certainty of your choice hang in the cool night air between you—if you wanted to walk away, you never would have gotten into that car.

Toji exhales a rough, uneven breath, the very last of his tension draining away. For a long moment, he just stares at you in the neon-lit dark, his thumb slowly stroking the back of your knuckles as if trying to memorize the fact that you are actually here.

Toji Fushiguro: "You're a menace, Akari. Come on—let's get you back to the villa before I do something stupid and just keep driving."

A laugh escapes me — soft, helpless, the kind I don't usually let out — and I tip my forehead a little harder against his. "Something stupid," I echo, like I'm tasting the words. I pull back just enough to look at him properly in the neon dark, my hand still tangled in his. "Toji. You drove me to a rooftop overlook and shared your good whiskey. I think the stupid part already happened."

Your soft, helpless laugh breaks the quiet of the overlook, and as you tip your forehead harder against his, the last of his legendary guard completely shatters. When you pull back to look at him in the neon-drenched dark, your hand still tangled in his, he doesn't try to pull away or deflect. At your words—that the stupid part already happened—a low, genuine laugh rumbles in his chest, vibrating through the narrow space between you.

He shakes his head, sliding his free hand to your waist to effortlessly lift you off the warm metal of the hood. Setting you on your feet, he keeps his hand on the small of your back as he guides you around to the passenger side. The drive back down the mountain is comfortable, wrapped in the quiet certainty of what just shifted between you. As the city lights blur past the windows, the heavy, electric tension of the evening finally settles into a soft, undeniable victory.

Toji Fushiguro: "Yeah, well. Don't expect me to apologize for it. Come on—let's get you back before that Choso kid paces a hole in the villa floor waiting for you."

I glance toward the passenger door, then back at him. "Poor Choso." A quiet laugh slips free. "He never stood a chance, did he?" I reach up, straightening the collar of his shirt one last time, smoothing an invisible crease with my thumb. "Neither did you." Before he can answer, I brush my lips against his cheek—so close to the scar that he can feel my smile more than the kiss itself. "Come on." I slip into the passenger seat without looking back. "Let's not make the villa wait any longer."

You glance toward the passenger door, letting a quiet laugh slip free into the cool night air as you muse about Choso's doomed chances. Reaching up, you straighten the dark fabric of Toji's collar, your thumb smoothing an invisible crease against his warm skin before delivering the killing blow—that he never stood a chance, either. You lean in, brushing your lips so close to his scar that the curve of your smile presses right into his jaw. Slipping into the passenger seat without a single backward glance, you leave the legendary Sorcerer Killer completely frozen by the open door in the neon-drenched dark.

He stands there for one long, devastating second before a low, disbelieving chuckle finally rumbles in his chest. Shaking his head, he rounds the hood and slides into the driver's seat, pulling the door shut as the engine purrs to life.

Toji Fushiguro: "Fucking hell... you really know how to ruin a guy, don't you?"

😏 catch his eye in the rearview mirror

You settle into the passenger seat, and as Toji shifts the car into gear, his eyes flick to the rearview mirror—finding you already waiting for him there. You hold his gaze in the reflected glass, letting a slow, knowing smirk touch your lips as the neon streetlights catch the faint flush still lingering near his scar. His grip tightens on the steering wheel until the leather creaks, holding your stare for one heavily charged second before he finally tears his eyes away to pull out onto the road.

Toji Fushiguro: "Keep looking at me like that in the glass, and I'm turning this car around. Give the poor blood-manipulation kid a break—he's probably pacing a trench into the courtyard by now."

I catch his eyes in the mirror one last time before letting the silence win. "Drive." The corner of my mouth lifts. "Tomorrow they'll spend all day trying to guess what happened." I turn toward the window, the city lights washing across the glass. "Let's disappoint them."

Toji holds your stare in the rearview mirror, the silence stretching taut until a slow, wicked grin finally breaks across his face. He shifts the car into gear without another word, the neon lights of Tokyo blurring past the glass as you ride back in a heavy, victorious quiet. When he idles the town car outside the imposing gates of Dagon's Beach Villa, he cuts the engine, leaning his forearm across the steering wheel to watch you in the dim light.

Toji Fushiguro: "Ruthless. I can work with that. We're back—go ahead and face the wolves, or wander the grounds for a bit if you want to keep them sweating. I'm gonna sit here and enjoy the quiet for another minute."

I reach for the door, then pause with my hand on the handle. Without turning around, I smile to myself. "Enjoy your minute." Only then do I glance back over my shoulder. My eyes find his in the dim cabin. "You'll need it." The corner of my mouth lifts just enough to betray that I know exactly what I've done. Then I step out into the warm night air, easing the door shut behind me. I don't look back again.

You reach for the door, letting your hand rest on the heavy handle as you pause, a private smile curving your lips before you tell him to enjoy his minute. Only then do you glance back over your shoulder, your eyes catching his in the dim cabin as you add that he's going to need it—the corner of your mouth lifting just enough to betray that you know exactly what you've done. You step out into the warm night air, easing the car door shut with a soft click, and walk toward the imposing villa gates without ever looking back.

Toji Fushiguro: "Yeah. I definitely will."

🧭 explore|the-flame-domain-pit|Toji Fushiguro|Choso

The Flame Domain Pit — neon firelight casting long shadows across the sand.

You leave the driveway behind, the gravel giving way to soft sand as you descend into the sunken, neon-lit bowl of the Flame Domain Pit. The space is mostly empty tonight, the recoupling fire pits burning low. True to Toji's prediction, Choso is pacing a slow line near the edge of the light. He stops dead the second he sees you, his shoulders dropping in visible relief as he steps forward to check on you. But his dark eyes instantly snap to the path at your back as heavy, unhurried boots crunch into the sand. Toji strolls into the orange glow right behind you, hands shoved deep in his pockets, looking utterly relaxed and carrying a quiet, dangerous smirk.

💅 walk past them to claim a seat

You don't stop for either of them. Brushing past Choso's outstretched hand and Toji's looming presence, you walk straight for the curved stone bench nearest the crackling fire pit. The soft sand shifts under your heels as you claim the center seat, crossing your legs and letting the neon orange light wash over you. Choso blinks, momentarily frozen by the dismissal, before hurriedly closing the distance to hover anxiously at your side. Toji just lets out a low, rough laugh, taking his time as he strolls over to lean heavily against the stone back of your bench, completely invading your space from behind.

Toji Fushiguro: "Look at that. You make the kid pace a trench in the sand waiting for you, and you still make him come to you. Brutal."

🫦 lean back against Toji's legs

You tilt your head back, letting your weight settle deliberately against the solid line of Toji's thighs. He doesn't step away; instead, he shifts his stance just enough to anchor you, the low rumble of his dark amusement vibrating straight through your spine. Choso goes entirely rigid, his hands curling into tight fists at his sides as he forces himself to look only at your face, pointedly ignoring the mercenary you're using as a backrest.

Choso: "I... wanted to speak with you. I've been waiting here since you left the courtyard."

I let Choso's words sit in the fire-warm air for a beat too long, then tilt my chin up just enough to look at him — not moving a single inch away from where Toji's thighs are bracing my weight. "Since I left the courtyard," I repeat, like I'm tasting how that sounds. "And you waited right here, Choso, instead of following me." I let that land.

You let his words hang in the fire-warm air for a beat too long, refusing to move a single inch from the solid brace of Toji's thighs as you finally tilt your chin up. Repeating his timeline back to him, you let the realization roll off your tongue like a quiet, devastating verdict—pointing out that he chose to wait in the sand instead of hunting you down. The truth of it hits Choso like a physical blow, his posture faltering just as Toji shifts his weight behind you, the mercenary's chest rumbling against your back with a dark, silent laugh at your absolute ruthlessness.

Choso: "I... I thought I was respecting your boundaries. But you're right. I won't make the mistake of waiting again."

I finally push off Toji's thighs — slowly, deliberately, like the decision costs me nothing — and take one step toward Choso, close enough that the fire catches the edge of his face. "Good," I say, and the word is quiet enough to be almost gentle, almost. "Because the version of you that waited in the sand? I don't know what to do with him. Show me the one who won't."

You push off the solid muscle of Toji's thighs, the shift slow and deliberate—a queen stepping down from her throne only because she chooses to. Closing the distance, you stop just inches from Choso, letting the neon firelight catch the dark mark bridging his nose as your quiet, almost-gentle ultimatum lands. The air between you physically warps as his cursed energy spikes, a heavy, suffocating wave of pure adrenaline and dark resolve bleeding into the night. Behind you, Toji lets out a low, rough exhale of absolute approval, entirely unbothered by the loss of his backrest.

Choso: "Then I'm done waiting. You'll never have to look for me again. I swear it."

Toji Fushiguro: "Careful, kid. She bites."

I let Toji's warning hang in the air exactly one second before I reach up and press two fingers against the dark mark across Choso's nose — light, precise, the way I'd assess a wound. "She does," I say, not to Toji, but holding Choso's eyes the entire time. "So swear it knowing that."

You let Toji's warning hang in the heavy air for exactly one second. Then, you reach up, pressing two fingers against the dark mark across Choso's nose—a touch that is light, precise, and entirely fearless, like assessing a fresh wound. You don't spare a single glance back at the mercenary as you confirm his warning aloud, holding Choso's wide, dark eyes the entire time. You tell him that you do bite, and that he needs to swear his vow knowing exactly what that means. The skin under your fingertips is burning hot, and the suffocating wave of his cursed energy suddenly fractures into something entirely desperate.

Choso: "I know. I'm counting on it."

Toji Fushiguro: "Damn. You really don't leave any scraps, do you?"

🌙 call it a night—the point is made

You let your fingertips linger on the edge of his mark for one final, agonizing second before dropping your hand. Without another word, you turn on your heel, leaving the heavy, charged silence to suffocate the two of them as you walk away. The neon firelight stretches your shadow across the sand, and though you don't look back, the weight of their stares burns into your spine all the way back to the villa doors.

Toji Fushiguro: "Sweet dreams. Try not to cause any more casualties on your way up the stairs."

🗣 pull aside|Kento Nanami

You don't actually head for your bedroom. The moment your boots leave the sand and the neon firelight of the pit fades—leaving Toji and Choso stranded in the suffocating, heavy silence you just orchestrated—your posture completely changes. The "calling it a night" act drops the second you are out of their sightline. You have one more piece of business to handle tonight, and you aren't going to sleep until you find a certain perpetually exhausted sorcerer. Lingering in the shadows at the edge of the path, you let the intense adrenaline of the fire pit settle, your eyes scanning the quiet perimeter of the villa grounds for the familiar, rigid line of a tan suit.

👔 prepare to demand he work some overtime

You step deeper into the shadows of the path, adjusting your posture as you mentally draft the exact, ruthless phrasing that will force Kento Nanami to clock back in for some mandatory overtime with you. You're fully prepared to drag the exhausted salaryman out of whatever quiet corner he's hiding in, but your momentum stalls when a low, rough laugh drifts up from the sand. With his heightened physical senses, Toji clearly heard your footsteps stop way short of the villa stairs.

💼 "tell him you have an overtime request to file"

You don't bother turning around, projecting your voice down the stone steps with perfect, demanding clarity. "I have an overtime request to file," you announce into the dark, making it abundantly clear to the mercenary that you aren't lingering in the shadows for his benefit.

A rough, genuine bark of laughter echoes up from the pit. The sheer audacity of you orchestrating a heavy emotional bloodbath only to immediately pivot to harassing the exhausted salaryman clearly delights Toji, while the silence from Choso's end of the sand grows suffocatingly tense.

Toji Fushiguro: "Wrong department, sweetheart. I only do contract work. But if you're looking to ruin the suit's night, I saw him heading for the courtyard."

move on to the next activity

You take the mercenary's intel without a single word of thanks. Pivoting on your heel, you finally turn your back on the neon firelight of the pit for good, leaving Toji and Choso to deal with the suffocating tension you orchestrated in the sand. The heavy, charged atmosphere fades behind you as you navigate the quiet, winding stone paths of the villa grounds. Your pace is brisk, your focus narrowing entirely. You have a very specific brand of exhaustion to hunt down, and your sights are set firmly on the Zen'in Courtyard.

go to Geto's room

the waiting town car — idling quietly at the edge of the villa grounds

You fully intended to march straight past the courtyard and up to Suguru's room, but your warpath is abruptly derailed. The sleek black town car from your evening date is still idling near the edge of the villa grounds, and a heavy, muscular arm pushes the back door open, blocking your route. Toji is sprawled comfortably across the dark leather seats, the dome light catching the wicked smirk plastered across his face. He watched your entire power play in the sand, and he clearly isn't done with you yet.

Toji Fushiguro: "Skipping the salaryman and heading straight for the cult leader's room instead? Ambitious. Get in and debrief with me before you start another war."