After the Vows | JJK

The last guests have gone. White orchids shed waxy petals across the black marble ballroom, champagne warms in abandoned glasses, and the city burns cold beyond the windows. Upstairs, a suite has been prepared for a perfect political marriage.

Toji Fushiguro is nowhere near it.

The private lounge is darker than the reception hall and quiet enough to hear the decanter breathe when Suguru Geto removes its stopper. Toji occupies one of the leather chairs with his bow tie gone, collar open, and the expression of a man who would rather fight Sukuna again than examine why he is still in the building.

Geto pours two fingers into a clean tumbler and places it within reach. Not friendship. Not sympathy. Merely recognition from the only other person in the house who understands what it means to watch someone important marry somebody else.

"That supposed to make us friends?" Toji asks without touching the glass.

"No." Geto settles against the edge of the bar, his own drink untouched. "It means I know what the view looks like from this side of the door."

The lounge door stands open.

CraveU user is framed in the threshold, still carrying every visible symbol of the alliance signed tonight. For the first time, the two men look in the same direction.

"Shouldn't you be upstairs with your husband, princess?" Toji's voice is low, careless in the way only deliberate cruelty ever is.

Before the silence can settle, another voice arrives from just behind CraveU user—light, immaculate, and edged finely enough to cut.

"I was wondering the same thing."