The walk to the cafe was a noisy affair.
With nine extra people trailing behind them, the usual quiet atmosphere between Wakana and Marin was replaced by the chaotic energy of a full class outing.
Kensei was loud as ever, throwing his arm around Shiki's neck and debating which seasonal drink had the best value for the price.
The girls, led by Nowa, were huddled in a tight circle just behind Marin, whispering and giggling in a way that made Wakana feel like he was being watched by a dozen hawks.
They settled into a large corner of a nearby family restaurant that had enough booth space to accommodate their rowdy group.
Wakana sat at the end of one table, while Marin naturally slid into the seat directly opposite him. As he had promised, Wakana picked up the tab for the first round of drinks, a gesture that earned him a chorus of cheers from his classmates.
"Seriously, Wakana, you're way too generous," Kensei said, leaning back after taking a massive gulp of his melon soda. "If I had as much money as you, I'd probably just buy a whole floor of an arcade and live there."
Wakana laughed lightly, resting his chin on his hand. "I don't think that's how it works, Kensei. Most of my earnings are already tied up in household maintenance and materials for the shop anyway".
"Material for the shop, huh?" Shiki adjusted his glasses, his eyes darting toward Marin. "Or materials for a certain someone's next masterpiece?"
Marin, who was currently occupied with a strawberry parfait, didn't miss a beat. "He's making the Hidden Inventory versions, Shiki! You have no idea how high the quality is. He even found this specific type of heavy twill that looks exactly like the jujutsu high uniforms in the anime."
"Hidden Inventory, that's the flashback arc, right?" Rune asked, leaning forward with an interested look. "The one with the tragic ending? I remember reading that in the manga. It was so sad when Riko died."
Marin's expression softened for a second, a bit of that same sadness she had shown at her apartment flickering in her eyes. "Yeah. That's why I wanted us to do it. It feels like we're giving her a happy memory, you know? Like she actually got to go to the beach or hang out with Gojo and Geto for longer."
Wakana watched her as she spoke. He noticed the way her eyes lit up when she talked about the "heart" of a character.
To most people, it was just a costume, but to Marin, it was about honoring the person behind the design. It was that same resilience and passion that had captivated him back in the handicraft club room.
The group continued to chat for another hour, the conversation jumping from school grades to the latest fashion trends.
Throughout it all, the "spies" stayed true to Takeru's warning.
They didn't pounce or ask intrusive questions about "dating," but the air was still thick with the "Confession Barrier" they had discussed earlier.
Every time Wakana handed Marin a napkin or Marin reached over to try a bit of Wakana's fries, a silent wave of knowing glances passed between Nowa, Daia, and Rune.
Eventually, the sun began to dip lower, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. The group began to disperse at the station, heading their separate ways.
"See you tomorrow, guys!" Nowa called out, waving as she followed Daia and Rune toward their platform. "Don't work too hard on those costumes, Gojo-kun!"
"We won't!" Marin yelled back, waving energetically until her friends were out of sight.
Suddenly, it was just the two of them again. The silence felt heavy but not uncomfortable. The train station was bustling, but they were in their own little bubble.
"Are you tired, Marin?" Wakana asked, noticing a slight slump in her shoulders.
"A little," she admitted, giving him a tired but happy smile. "But it was fun. It's nice having everyone together like that."
"Yeah, it is," Wakana agreed. He looked at her, the evening light catching the pinkish-red tips of her blonde hair. "I'll see you on Sunday for the final fitting, then? I want to make sure the length of Riko's skirt is exactly right before I finish the hem."
"I'll be there! I'll even bring some of those snacks you liked from the other day," Marin promised, her face brightening at the thought. "Get some sleep, okay, Wakana? No more 3 AM sewing sessions".
"I promise," he said, though they both knew he'd likely be up at least until midnight working on the intricate collar details he had mentioned earlier.
...
The next few days passed in a blur of schoolwork and secret projects.
Wakana's life had become a rhythmic balance of being a top-tier student by day and a meticulous designer by night.
Every free moment in class was spent sketching or researching. He found himself looking at the back of Marin's head, watching the way she interacted with her friends, and feeling a strange, grounding stability.
By Saturday night, the Gojo household was quiet.
His grandfather had already left for the weekend, leaving Wakana alone in the workshop. The Jujutsu Kaisen costumes were draped over mannequins.
The Satoru Gojo uniform was a deep, midnight blue, the high collar structured with the heavy interfacing he had used for the Mirajane dress to ensure it stood perfectly straight.
But his masterpiece was the Riko Amanai school uniform.
He had opted for a premium white polyester twill for the top. It had a crispness that regular cotton couldn't match, making the sailor collar stand out with a professional finish. The blue accents were a perfect match for the anime's color palette, and he had hand-sewn the red ribbon to ensure it sat at the perfect angle.
He sat on his bed, the black character hoodie Marin had lent him pulled over his shoulders. He was exhausted, but the dark circles under his eyes didn't bother him as much this time.
He remembered her crying when she saw how much he had overdone it for the Mirajane dress. This time, he had managed his time better. He wanted her to see his best work, but he also wanted her to see him healthy.
He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos. He stopped at the selfie they had taken together at the convention.
She looked so beautiful as Mirajane, and he looked... well, he looked like he needed a long nap. He chuckled to himself.
"The moon is beautiful tonight, too," he whispered to the empty room, glancing out the window at the silver glow hitting the workshop roof.
...
Sunday morning arrived with crisp clarity. Wakana had cleaned his room and prepared his measurement kit. Just like their first session, the doorbell rang right on time.
When he opened the door, Marin was there; her energy felt throughout the entire house.
She was wearing a simple summer dress and a light cardigan, but her eyes were already scanning the hallway for the new costumes.
"Morning, Wakana! Ready for the big reveal?" she chirped, stepping into the genkan.
"Good morning, Marin. Everything is in the room," he replied, leading her upstairs.
As they entered his bedroom, Marin stopped dead in her tracks. The two uniforms stood side by side near the window. The sunlight hit the fabric, highlighting the clean lines and professional stitching.
"No way..." she breathed, walking slowly toward the Riko Amanai outfit. "Wakana, it looks... it looks like it was stolen straight from the animation studio."
"I took your advice on the movement," Wakana explained, stepping up beside her. "The skirt has a bit more weight to it, so when you turn, it won't just fly up. It has a graceful drape."
Marin reached out, her fingers grazing the white fabric of the sleeve. "It's so soft. And the collar is so stiff! How did you get it to stay like that without it looking bulky?"
"Secret technique," he teased, though he knew she'd recognize the stabilizer if she looked closely. "Do you want to try it on? We need to check the movement and see if the waistband needs any last-minute adjustments."
"Duh! I've been waiting all week!" Marin laughed.
Wakana stepped out onto the veranda to give her privacy, just as he had done before.
He leaned against the railing, looking out over the traditional garden. His heart was beating faster than it usually did during a fitting. Maybe it was because he was once alone with Marin in his home, or maybe it was just the intimacy of the moment. He felt a deep sense of responsibility for her happiness.
"Wakana! You can come back in now!"
He slid the door open and stepped back into the room. Marin was standing there in the Riko uniform.
She hadn't put on the wig or the makeup yet, but the outfit alone transformed her. The high-waisted blue skirt and the white sailor top made her look younger, more innocent, and strikingly like the character from the Hidden Inventory arc.
"What do you think?" she asked, doing a slow twirl.
The skirt moved exactly as he had envisioned, flaring out slightly before settling back into a perfect, heavy drape.
"It's perfect, Marin," he said, his voice sincere. "The proportions are exactly right. How does it feel around the waist?"
She patted her midsection. "It's a bit snug, but in a good way! It makes me stand up straighter. I feel totally like a Star Religious Vessel!"
"Good. Now, let's try the accessories," Wakana said, reaching for a small box on his desk. Inside was a dark blue headband with a simple bow. "This was the trickiest part to get right. I had to use a flexible wire inside the bow so you could pose it however you wanted."
He walked over to her, his professional designer mode taking over. He stepped close, his hands reaching up to her head.
Marin went still, her eyes locked on his as he carefully positioned the headband. The scent of her shampoo, that same spring-flower smell he had noticed before, filled the space between them.
Wakana's fingers brushed against her forehead as he adjusted the bow. He could feel the warmth of her skin. For a moment, his hands lingered.
He looked down and found her staring up at him with an expression that wasn't just "cosplay joy." It was something deeper, something that made his own heart skip a beat.
"Wakana..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Yeah?" he replied, his voice equally soft.
"You're really close," she pointed out, a small, shy smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Wakana realized he was leaning in, his face only inches from hers. He quickly stepped back, his face heating up. "S-sorry! I just wanted to make sure the wire wasn't poking you."
Marin giggled, the tension breaking just enough for her to breathe again. "It's fine. I don't mind when it's you."
She turned back to the mirror, adjusting the headband herself. "Now, what about yours? You have to try on the Gojo uniform too! I need to see the 'Strongest' in person!"
Wakana hesitated. He wasn't used to being the one in front of the mirror. "I'm not sure it'll look as good as yours, Marin. I just made it to my own measurements, but I'm not a model like you."
"Nonsense! You're an ikemen, remember? The whole school thinks so!" she teased, pushing him toward the bathroom with his uniform in hand. "Go on! I'll wait right here!"
Wakana went to the bathroom and changed. The dark blue uniform fit him perfectly. He had tailored it to emphasize his prominent shoulders and height.
The high collar felt stiff and authoritative. He took a breath and stepped back into his bedroom.
Marin gasped. She was sitting on the edge of his bed, but she stood up immediately. "Whoa... Wakana, you look... you look incredible."
He felt awkward, but the way she was looking at him with wide, sparkling eyes and a bright blush made him feel a surge of confidence.
"It's just the uniform," he muttered, adjusting the collar.
"No, it's not! You have the height, the build... you even have the crazy handsome looks Gojo has," she insisted. She reached into her bag and pulled out a pair of dark sunglasses. "Here! Put these on. They aren't the blindfold, but they're the ones he wears in the flashback."
Wakana took the glasses and slid them onto his nose. The world dimmed slightly, but through the lenses, he saw Marin beaming at him.
"Perfect!" she cheered, clapping her hands. "We are going to win the whole convention! People are going to lose their minds!"
Wakana chuckled. "It isn't a competition."
They spent the next few hours practicing poses. Wakana used his knowledge of fashion photography to help her find the best angles for Riko, focusing on her bright, energetic personality.
In return, Marin coached him on how to act like Satoru Gojo. How to be relaxed, arrogant, and yet deeply protective.
"You have to lean back more, Wakana! Gojo is like, the coolest guy ever. He knows he's the strongest, so he doesn't have to try hard," she explained, pushing his shoulders back.
"Like this?" he asked, trying to adopt a more casual stance.
"Yes! Exactly like that! Now, look down at me like I'm a bit annoying but you'd still fight a thousand curses for me."
Wakana looked down at her. With the glasses on, he felt a bit more shielded, more able to hold her gaze. He saw her smiling up at him, her face full of trust and admiration.
"I can do that," he said, and for a moment, he wasn't acting. He really would do anything to keep that smile on her face.
He spread his arms and spoke in a calm yet arrogant manner. "Throughout Heaven and Earth, I alone am the Honored One."
Seeing this, Marin's eyes sparkled with amazement as she continuously leaped in joy. "That was amazing, Wakana-kun! You totally felt like Gojo Satoru there!"
As the afternoon sun began to fade, they finally decided to call it a day. They changed back into their regular clothes and sat on the floor of the workshop, surrounded by scraps of fabric and sketches.
"I'm so glad we're doing this together," Marin said, leaning her head back against a wooden pillar. "I used to do everything alone. Buying the wrong fabric, messing up the sewing, sitting in that dusty handicraft room by myself."
She looked over at him, her expression serious. "Having you here... it makes everything better. Not just the costumes, but... everything."
Wakana felt a lump in his throat. He reached out and placed his hand near hers on the floor. He didn't grab it, but the proximity was enough to feel her warmth.
"I feel the same way, Marin," he admitted. "I didn't realize how much I was missing until I met you."
They stayed like that for a long time, the "Confession Barrier" standing tall between them, yet feeling thinner than ever before.
The silence wasn't a wall; it was a bridge.
"Hey, Wakana?" she whispered.
"Yeah?"
"I think... I think Riko Amanai would have been really happy if she had a protector like you."
Wakana didn't say anything. He just moved his hand that last inch and let his pinky finger hook around hers. It was a tiny, silent promise in the quiet of the Gojo workshop.
"I'll see you at the station next Saturday," he said.
"I'll be the one in the white dress," she smiled.
"And I'll be the one looking out for you."
(A/N: All my fanfics are back, baby. Along with a new Wistoria fanfic called "Wistoria: The World God Abandoned By God", be sure to check it out, and if you decide to give power stones, give it there instead of this novel. It's more meaningful and gives more value. Thanks.)