The Binding Vow of Lazarus

Chapter 5

Satoru’s brow furrowed as he leaned closer to the window, his curiosity getting the better of him. She had stopped for a moment, adjusting the laundry basket as she glanced up at the sky. The sunlight played across her features, softening the edges of her face. She looked so normal, so utterly mundane in that moment. What was she hiding?

The questions nagged at him, a persistent itch at the back of his mind. He wanted to know, needed to know, but he was at a loss for how to approach it. If he confronted her directly she might not be able to answer, or worse, she might suffer the consequences of her vow. That was something he didn't want to risk, especially if she wasn't even fully aware of what was happening to her.

She resumed walking, the basket of damp sheets swaying gently with each step as she made her way toward the line where she would hang them out to dry. Satoru’s gaze followed her, his mind replaying their interactions over the past couple months, searching for any sign, any slip that might give him a clue.

But there was nothing. Not a damn thing. And that frustrated him to no end.

“Gojo, are you even paying attention?”

The manager's voice cut through his thoughts, jolting him back to the present. Satoru blinked, glancing up at the teacher with a disarming grin.

“Of course, sensei. Just, uh, reflecting on your words of wisdom.”

Suguru and Shoko snickered, and the manager rolled his eyes, clearly not buying it. But he let it go, returning to the lesson with a grumble about inattentive students.

Satoru settled back in his seat, his gaze reluctantly pulling away from the window. He knew he couldn’t afford to be too distracted—there were still missions, still duties he had to attend to, but even as he tried to focus on the lecture, his mind kept drifting back to Sarah.

The early afternoon sun filtered through the windows of the classroom as the three friends went about their chores. The remnants of the day's lessons—crumpled paper, chalk dust, and scattered books—were being tidied up with practiced efficiency. Suguru bent down to gather the discarded notes, Shoko was sweeping up near the chalkboard, and Satoru was idly wiping down the desks, his movements slow and thoughtful. They hadn’t spoken much since class ended, each of them lost in their own thoughts, but the unspoken tension between them was palpable.

Suguru was the first to break the silence, his voice calm but with an edge of curiosity. “I’ve been thinking about Sarah… and what we know so far," He straightened up, the stack of papers in his hand forgotten as he turned to face the others, "Assuming this is something else mixed with jujutsu, there are a few different religious figures in the west who were raised from the dead, if I'm remembering correctly.”

Satoru paused in his wiping, his hand still on the desk, and exchanged a glance with Shoko. “Like Jesus or whatever?” he repeated, as if mulling it over, “Yeah, that could explain a lot. Didn't he come back after a few days?”

Shoko nodded thoughtfully, leaning the broom against the wall. “Yeah," she agreed, "I think I remember reading something about that.”

“When I was reading about it recently,” Suguru continued, picking up on Satoru’s thought, “There are legends that some holy relics can resurrect the dead and a lot of those relics are bones and ashes of their saints.”

Satoru leaned against one of the desks, crossing his arms. “So they killed her and let her resurrect using her bones?" he suggested, rubbing his hand on his chin, "But why? For the sorcerer ashes? I mean they'd basically have an unlimited supply that way... Is that why?"

Shoko tapped her chin with her finger, her brow furrowed in concentration. “But how often do sorcerers need human ashes?" She asked, "As far as I know, rituals with that kind of component are rare.”