Mahito had been undercover for less than an hour and was already rethinking his entire villain arc.
He stood behind the churro stand beside Juno, who was wearing oven mitts inscribed with divine symbols and humming a protection chant that sounded suspiciously like an off-key anime opening.
"Hey, new guy," she said, squinting at his aura. "You give off strong 'my parents never hugged me' vibes."
Mahito chuckled. "Maybe I just like baking."
She stared at him.
"Okay," she muttered, "definitely trauma."
Meanwhile, Spillglass was preaching to a group of confused high schoolers about how "emotional repression leads to cursed cholesterol." Father Asher was blessing macaroons. Thorne was training a raccoon to throw knives.
Mahito whispered to himself, "What... the fuck is happening here?"
Just outside the courtyard, Yuji and Nanami crouched behind a flaming food truck.
Yuji: "So we're sure Mahito's in there?"
Nanami: "Yes."
Yuji: "How sure?"
Nanami: "The curses are singing ABBA."
Yuji peeked over the edge and saw a four-eyed spirit wearing a "bride-to-be" sash doing the conga. He nodded.
"Yup. That's cursed."
They snuck in. Or at least tried to.
Yuji tripped on a stray donut-shaped talisman. It exploded into glitter and revealed him immediately.
"Shit."
Thorne immediately drew his therapy batons.
"ENEMY INCOMING!"
Marrow threw a cookie tray like a shuriken. It decapitated a scarecrow curse they'd forgotten to exorcise two days ago.
Nanami: "...This was a mistake."
Mahito took a step back as pure, brain-damaged war erupted around him.
Juno summoned a cursed whip made of taffy and existential guilt.
Flint was dual-wielding kabob skewers, screaming, "FOR THE MEAT GOD."
Spillglass poured gin into a summoning circle and out rose a familiar shaped like his last breakup.
Father Asher rode a possessed picnic bench like a war chariot, quoting scripture and throwing pies.
Yuji finally spotted Mahito — now disguised as "Bakerman Bob" with a poorly drawn smiley face on his apron.
Yuji: "That's him! That's Mahito!"
Mahito: "Who? Me? I'm just here to serve!"
He launched a tray of cursed croissants that exploded into shadow arms. Yuji deflected it with his bare fists.
Nanami yelled, "Confirmed identity. Let's wreck him."
Now fully exposed, Mahito shed his disguise. His skin stitched itself back together like a zipper on fast-forward. His voice warped.
"You entertained me. That's rare. I'll let you live... for now."
Marrow stabbed him with a breadstick laced with regret.
He flinched.
Thorne lunged with both batons glowing, yelling:"You don't touch my emotionally unstable friends without consent, you soul-bending fuck!"
They clashed. Mahito laughed. "You swing your trauma like a weapon. I respect it."
Juno charged in from behind, screaming a mantra about "self-worth and lavender."
Mahito flexed his Idle Transfiguration — twisting the air into spines. Flint tanked the hit by accident while doing a cartwheel.
Nanami hit him with the ratio. Mahito staggered, then burst into laughter.
"This is the most fun I've had since I killed a choir!"
Yuji launched a flurry of punches, screaming, "Where's Junpei?!"
That stopped Mahito for a second. His grin faltered.
"You still think you can save him?"
A silence dropped over the fight.Even the cursed pie catapult paused mid-reload.
Yuji stepped forward, blood on his knuckles, eyes wide.
"Where is he?"
Mahito licked blood from his cheek. "He was sweet. Like frosting. But people like him... always melt too fast."
The air turned cold.
Spillglass lowered his flask.Juno whispered, "Is he saying what I think—"
Yuji exploded forward.
Fists glowing. Screaming. A punch meant for gods. Meant for monsters.Mahito blocked it—barely—and smiled.
"Let's see how far you'll break."
Mahito pulsed with cursed energy.A ripple of pure distortion.
"I've seen enough," he said.
He flicked his fingers, and the air warped behind him — a cursed portal crackling with unstable grief.
Before anyone could reach him, he stepped backward and vanished.
Yuji fell to his knees, shaking.
Nanami placed a hand on his shoulder.
The Communion stood around them. Not sure if they just survived a battle or triggered something far worse.
Father Asher stared at the sky, wine bottle trembling.
"…We just made enemies with a goddamn soul artist."