24 Fractured Bonds

We gathered in the dorm lounge, the Hokkaido mission file spread open on the battered coffee table. The air hung heavy with unspoken tension, a stark contrast to the cheerful atmosphere a few minutes ago.

"Alright, let's get down to it," Nobara began. "How do we want to play this?"

"I say we dive straight in," I said, maybe a bit more forcefully than intended. "Hit the streets and see if we can sense where these disappearances are concentrated."

Fushiguro grunted, his dark eyes flicking through the file. "That's reckless. We know almost nothing. Could be one powerful curse, or a nest of weaker ones. We move without a plan, we'll be blindsided." 

"And waiting for more information will get us what?" I shot back. "Those people are missing now. Every minute wasted could mean more victims."

"Or more of us dead," Fushiguro retorted, his voice surprisingly harsh. "You think charging in blind makes you brave? Do I need to remind you what happened last time?"

"That was different," I managed, my voice tight. "I wasn't trying to be reckless -"

"That's exactly your problem," Fushiguro cut me off, his gaze unrelenting. "You act first, think later. Maybe in those training sessions with Gojo, that flies. But out there..." he shook his head, disgust lacing his words.

My hands clenched into fists, nails biting into my palms. The council's questioning, Fushiguro's icy words - it was all a blur of doubt, and something deep inside me snapped.

"At least I've gotten stronger," I spat out. "That happened two months ago, and I'm not the same damn rookie anymore. You, on the other hand..." My voice dripped with venom. "Hiding behind your shikigami, afraid to face anything head-on - still the same fucking weakling from back then."

A flicker of surprise, then rage, twisted Fushiguro's usually stoic features. "Fine," he hissed, "You want to question my strength? Let's settle this. Outside. Now."

He rose to his feet and Nobara's gasp hung in the sudden stillness. This was beyond stupid... but looking around, at Fushiguro's icy glare and my own shaking hands, I knew there was no turning back.  

"Well well, would you look at this? A brawl before bedtime? And here I thought you three were a team."

We froze, turning as one towards the doorway where Gojo stood, that infuriating grin plastered on his face amidst the chaos we'd created.

"I trust you kids aren't stupid enough to actually fight each other." His gaze swept over us, a disarming mix of mockery and something sharper I couldn't quite decipher.

"We uh..." Nobara fumbled for words that wouldn't get us punished even worse than whatever awaited us in Hokkaido.

"Just... getting hyped," I finally managed, forcing a grin I didn't feel.

Gojo strode into the room, his presence dominating the space. "Sure you were. But remember, there'll be plenty of time to test your mettle against real curses. In the meantime, I hear Hokkaido is lovely this time of year. Shame to miss your train."

His words hit us like icy water. The mission, the real threat, snapped back into focus. We lowered our gazes.

"Pack your bags," Gojo said, turning to leave. "You depart early tomorrow morning."

The sterile train platform was a world away from yesterday's simmering tension, but the icy silence between Fushiguro and me was impossible to ignore. He'd staked out a lone bench at the opposite end, a representation of the gulf between us.

"Well, this is fun," I muttered, hoisting my duffel bag closer.

Nobara elbowed me with a playful grin. "Come on, don't be a drama queen. Let's at least pretend this is a normal trip."

She grabbed my hand and dragged me over to an empty booth, the worn vinyl cool against my skin. The familiar touch was comforting, yet a shadow of worry lingered in the back of my mind. We might be playing at normalcy, but normal didn't fight its way through missions.

The train lurched forward, and the world outside became a blur of greys and browns. Nobara rested her head on my shoulder with a soft sigh. "So," she said after a long silence, "about last night..."

"Yeah, maybe I shouldn't have said some of that stuff."

"Maybe," she agreed, her voice gentle, "but he shouldn't have either."

It wasn't just Fushiguro's words that stung, but the fear they manifested - the fear I still wasn't good enough, strong enough.

"Look," Nobara squeezed my hand, her gaze surprisingly serious, "I'm not asking you to be best friends. But out there... we need to trust each other. Can you do that? Even if you want to punch his face in later?"

Her practicality cut through the knot of emotions swirling inside me. The mission, that was what really mattered. "Yeah," I finally said. "Yeah, I can do that."  

The train groaned to a halt in Sapporo station, spitting us out into a sea of strangers. Hokkaido's crisp air was a shock after the train car, but even the wide sky and bustling crowds couldn't banish the oppressive weight of what we were here to do.

The hotel was as drab as Yaga would likely choose - clean, unremarkable, the perfect place to disappear into. Yet, every rustle of the cheap curtains, every creak of the floorboards, made me jumpy. 

We huddled around a scratched tabletop, the city map splayed out before us. Each red 'X' marked a place where someone vanished without a trace, a stark reminder of the lives we were supposed to be saving.

"Alright," Nobara said, "we split up. Speed is key here."

I was about to volunteer for recon with her, when Fushiguro spoke up. "I'll check in with the local authorities. See if they've noticed anything we don't." His tone was businesslike, a mask covering whatever resentment still simmered beneath.

Nobara eyed him for a moment, then turned back to the map. "Fine. Kaito and I will start with the families. Maybe they saw or heard something that could help pinpoint..." she trailed off, her gaze landing on me.

As we stood to leave, a thought struck me. I turned back towards Fushiguro, who was already halfway out the door. Should I try to say something, smooth things over? No. There wasn't time for that. 

We stepped out into the fading afternoon light, the chill seeping through my jacket. The families' addresses were a grim checklist in my pocket.

"Well," Nobara's voice broke through the silence, "at least it'll give us a starting point." She tried for a smile, but it faltered under the weight of what we were doing.

The first home was a modest apartment. A man with red-rimmed eyes, his shoulders stooped in an unnatural curve, answered the door. A faded photo, creased at the edges, was clutched tightly in his hand. 

"You're really here to help?" His voice was a rasp, barely more than a whisper. "You look so young..."

"We understand this is...difficult," I started, but the words felt hollow. What could I possibly say to ease a burden like this?

Nobara stepped forward. "Sir, we're investigating your son's disappearance. Any information, no matter how small, could be a clue to finding him. Did he have a favorite place he liked to visit? A close group of friends?"

The man blinked, as if pulled back from some distant, sorrowful place, and focused on Nobara. His voice trembled slightly, but there was a flicker of hope behind his haunted gaze. "He was always hanging out at that arcade, downtown... You know the one? And his friends... well, I don't know many, but they would call sometimes."

I moved closer, gently extending a hand. "We'll start there, sir. And we'll check in with his friends. Every lead matters, and we won't stop until we have answers."

A flicker of something like gratitude crossed the man's face, and he nodded slowly. It wasn't much, but in a world turned so dark, even the smallest spark felt like a victory. As we turned to leave, his hunched form seemed a little less broken. 

House after house, a grim repetition. Tears and unanswered questions, the same bewildered desperation etched onto faces that blurred together. All of the victims were young, outgoing... the kind who flocked to places like the Susukino District. A potential pattern, but one that only painted the situation in a darker light.

Nobara squeezed my shoulder as we headed back towards the city lights. "Let's regroup with Fushiguro," she said quietly. 

We regrouped in the lobby of our drab hotel, the silence between us heavy. Finally, Fushiguro spoke, the coldness in his voice mirroring my own mood.

"Well? Anything?"

Nobara's summary was grim. A litany of heartbreak, of families desperate for answers we didn't have. When she finished, Fushiguro nodded, his jaw tight.

"Local police confirm the pattern," he said, tossing a file on the table. "Every victim frequented Susukino District. Not exactly known for its wholesome clientele." His words were like ice, the unspoken accusation hanging between us. 

"Let's check it out," I said, biting back the retort burning on my tongue. "Blend in, see if we can feel anything unusual." 

The walk was tense. The bustling city felt hostile in the darkness. Every shadow, every whispered conversation, set my nerves on edge. Susukino blared with neon, a gaudy mask for whatever lurked beneath the surface.

 I focused on the crowds, the ebb and flow of energy - searching for the telltale wrongness, the icy touch of a curse.

And then - there. Beneath the thump of club music and drunken laughter, a thrumming pulse that felt off.

"Over there," I hissed, pointing towards a side street where the neon faded into darkness.

A choked scream echoed through the alley. Before any plan could form, before Nobara or Fushiguro could even react, I was across the alley. The first man barely had time to register my presence before my fist connected with his jaw. I whirled, the second man's drunken grab a clumsy motion easily avoided. A knee slammed into his gut, sending him crumpling. The third, finally recovered from his shock, lunged with a crude punch. I twisted, sidestepped, and drove my elbow up into his ribs.

The entire exchange had taken barely a few heartbeats. The men lay groaning on the dirty pavement.

Nobara rushed towards the woman, who was cowering against the wall, her eyes wide with terror. "Hey, it's okay, it's okay," she soothed, her voice gentle as she checked for injuries.

Fushiguro remained near the entrance to the alley, his stance tense, shadows obscuring his expression. Had I impressed him with my quick work? Or just further proven my recklessness in his eyes?

The woman, tremors wracking her body, choked out a fragmented story. A friend who vanished, mentioning some underground party at an old factory.

"Factory... by the docks..." Nobara murmured, her eyes narrowing in thought.

Fushiguro finally joined us, his gaze flicking between me and the subdued men. "You do realize that probably alerted whatever else is lurking out here," he said, his voice low.

I bristled, ready to bite back, but the woman whimpered, clutching at my jacket. "She went there," she gasped, "They took her there..."

The pieces clicked into place, it wasn't random. The disappearances, the lure of nightlife, and now this 'party'... Something was gathering the victims. And that old factory sounded a lot like its lair.

It was a trap, I was sure of it. But people were counting on us.

Fushiguro stepped forward, his shadow stretching across the alleyway. "Better the devil you know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "Let's finish this."

Despite everything, a surge of something almost like relief washed through me. In the face of real danger, maybe the petty squabbles could wait... for now.