Satoruo Gojo was raised very simply. Not right by any means, not like you should raise your children, but it was under a simple motto nonetheless.
"You will be our chance to tear the Ryomen asunder!"
His dear mother's words. Powerful as he was even from birth, he never really inherited the inherent hatred for that clan of presumptuous assholes that most of his family had. Still, he trained to surpass them, to eventually challenge them and place himself at the top of the world- as the Strongest. If only because that's the only purpose he'd even known, the only goal he'd ever been told to pursue.
His family said that his birth shifted the world on its axis. Curse Users shied away further, Curses became rarer. Ever since he could remember, he was trained. Trained for a purpose, trained to surpass. His Six Eyes let him devour all the knowledge presented, all the Techniques his clan had oh-so readily available.
He just… went along with it. He didn't see a reason not to. Even with how empty his family's imposed goal was, he'd still pursue it. For what else was he supposed to do in life? "Your clan made another push to force the Kamo to share their Cursed Tools, given by the Ryomen." His best friend, Suguru Geto noted, the worry-wart he is.
Behind his round, shaded glasses that helped his brain not be overwhelmed, he rolled his eyes. Walking through the public cafeteria, Suguru earned some curious glances from the Ryomen duo that was attending this year's classes for Satoruo's year. In total, there were about eight Ryomen clan members attending Tokyo Jujutsu Technical Cursed College.
Each one was far stronger than even that one reserved Kamo girl a year lower than him- Himiko, he thinks her name was. They didn't reach his level and, initially, he'd thought they'd be mad. But turns out, the regular rank-and-file of the Ryomen clan were just… people. Sorcerers, regular and mostly lacking any Inherited Techniques.
Granted, they grew up with more resources than any Cursed User would have and access to all the Jujutsu world could teach, but they grew up with a distinct lack of arrogance. Unlike the actual Ryomen family. He'd met the current Clan head only once. His strength was the first thing he noticed. Goman Ryomen was powerful but decisively unrefined.
His eyes told him that the man had never trained himself to exhaustion in his life, unlike Satoru had. But he was powerful, several degrees more powerful than Satoru was even now. He sat down on his row of the cafeteria with a relaxed sigh. "Bah, you know nothing'll happen. The clan's have been trying to milk something out of the Kamo for actual centuries."
Suguru sighed, having actually paid attention in history class, which was actually taught by a Ryomen clan member- Meruem Hatake. "Once more, the Ryomen will simply show themselves once more, challenge one clan head or another and the matter will be settled." He recited the loop the clans have been going through for a while now.
Always prodding at the alliance or even at the Ryomen themselves, only to be beaten down swiftly. "Yeah, but I think it's what my family's betting on this time. They think I'm strong enough to take on Goman." Scoffing, his next words came out with barely hidden bite. "Asshole he might be, he's still a whole lot too strong for me to even think about challenging."
Suguru nods. "We'll just hope that it takes a while for them to respond to the demand- they're sluggish anyways."
"Yo." Ieiri sat herself down in front of them, on the other side of the table, with a lazy wave.
"Yo."
"Yo."
With greetings exchanged, Ieiri raised an eyebrow in incredulity. "You seem tense, Satoru."
His shoulders slumped as he theatrically admitted his worries. "I'm gonna die, Shoko! Help me!"
"I'm not paying for your funeral." Was her only choice of words.
Suguru intervenes before the slight worry in Ieiri's eyes could develop into anything serious. "His family is making a bid for the Ryomen again. He's worried that Goman will challenge him." He took a bite of his delicious food. God, the entire world knew that the Ryomen were assholes, but with 70% of them being just regular men and women, with actual sway in their clan politics (somehow, they aren't really taught the inner workings of the place), they still make decisions that contribute the greater Jujutsu society.
Like funding this academy, expanding its numbers and giving it some actual fucking food last year as well. Satoru watched his friend melt as he bit into the Burger (It was Burger day, yippeeee!!!!) before returning his attention onto Ieiri. "Yeah, it'll be a total disaster. At least the Zen'in have stopped challenging the Ryomen- or Kamo, for that matter- and content themselves as third place."
Suguru spoke up with a raised finger. "Actually, in recent times, if we include the Sorcerer Killer, the Zen'in have produced more Special Grade Sorcerers and have more economic and political capital than the Kamo."
"Huh. That a recent thing? Dear mom always told me they were distinctly below even the Gojo." Satoru responded.
His best friend scoffed, swallowing his food before responding. "'Course she would. Bias. But it's pretty recent, yeah. Projection Sorcery has made a come-back and their special combat units are growing in number and strength each year."
Ieiri, defying her usual 'I'm just listening' position in their group antics, when not playing the mom, spoke up with curiosity. "Enough as to where they'd help the Gojo deal with the Kamo and Ryomen alliance?"
Surugu shook his head. "Not even close. The Zen'in and Gojo, in the past, had multiple other clans in their alliances and many more Special Grades and even then they failed. We don't really know how strong the mainline Ryomen family is, they never publish the data for that unlike with how they do so for the rest of their clan, but when we look at how much stronger and more innovative the Blood Manipulation users of the Ryomen are than the ones from the original Kamo, then there's an obvious trend." He explained.
"Point is: I'm fucked." Satoru slumped into his folded arms, head laying on the metal table.
"There there." Shoko patted his head. "You'll live."
"Only if a miracle happens, maybe." Was his only response.
"The barrier stands strong?" Gomen asks the kneeling brother of his, who'd become proficient in the sealing arts, more so than the rest of his family.
Nodding, his far more physically impressive brother stood tall once more, towering above him. "Yes, my Lord. As with centuries before, not even the Six Eyes will penetrate its integrity."
"Good. Then, gather the rest. We will perform the sacred prayer of the Four- of the Han-Kami." It was tradition, so deeply ingrained within his very blood that, even if he wasn't devoted to his god as any Ryomen should be, he would be unable to not go into that marvelous proof of his divinity that is the temple below their house every decade and pray.
He had yet to find himself a wife, but he had options. Two White female members with only their father being the other currently alive Ice Manipulation user. Four Green members, one woman, who is the daughter to the also lone father, whose two brothers remain alive. Completing the set, there was him, his elderly mother and his brother.
And that was the current Ryomen family. He stood as its head, as the uncontested strongest of the Era. Blessed with their Han-Kami's Shrine as well as prodigious talent with Reversed Cursed Energy, to the point that people have started whispering about him achieving the ever-so elusive reversal of Shrine, he had always been destined for greatness.
As was right. As was proper.
As he waited for the rest of his family to gather in the throne room, he thought about how uppity the Gojo have been recently. He scoffs outwardly, even with their new miracle boy, they stand no chance. After a thousand years, they should know this. Just because their Han-Kami chose their compound to be able to hide itself amongst the mountain, to shroud itself in illusion, did not mean they were cowards.
The opposite! If any foolish clan decided to rise above their rightful station beneath him, he would beat them back into the dirt. As did his ancestors. As did his Han-Kami.
As his family gathered- his mother and brother framed to the left and right by the White and Green- he motioned them to rise from their bowed positions. "We go." He stood himself up, not dignifying the world with a groan of exertion, before leading his clan towards the Entrance.
It opened for him after a whispered prayer- "O' Lord, grant us passage."
And his word became law as the floor shimmered with His power and allowed him and his entry- the staircase they descended down decked with paintings, incense and small offerings of all kinds. They entered his Holy Void without dallying, placing themselves at the foot of his Workshop, where he crafted the Divine Weapons of the Four and his Fingers.
And then, they settled into one, unified prayer. "Lord of His Grave, Lord of Our Heaven, Han-Kami of Power, King of the Accursed, King of Sorcery- we pray, here, today, for prosperity, for your awakening." They began in unison. His brother was slightly off-tune, he would be reprimanded later.
Now, he would lead the chant, as was his Divine Duty. "My Lord, we pray you hear our devoted words. We still shine your power onto the unbeliever, the heretic and the Other. They shall shirk or thrive under your radiance, it shan't matter! Your power grows ceaselessly. Even with the rise of Satoru Gojo, their own prodigy, we shall rinse his rising star into iron irrelevance and keep our Zenith, as we have for a thousand years since your s-"
He stopped as a hiss echoed out throughout the Voidful Chapel, and all now-wide-eyes turned up to face the four floating coffins, held up by chains that came from the infinite expanse around them.
The rightmost coffin's seals started emitting embers, then sizzled with fire before all burning up in their entirety. For the first time in a thousand years, the hard wood beneath was revealed. All held their breaths, even as he heard his cousin from the White start whispering prayers to Him beneath her breath. "H-His Angel's coffin!"
The once sealed edges of the coffin, the lid, popped forwards slightly, a billow of ancient steam rushing out of the new crevices. They watched with reverent, bated breaths as the lid, a panned of slim glass at approximate eye-level, fell off of the coffin and into the abyss below. Shadow covered the entire interior, hiding the occupant from the world.
That was until a shrill, rasping and extremely ghoulishly deep intake of air echoed out from the darkness. They all prepared themselves to see his Angel, but when a thin, boney arm gripped the edges and pulled the rest of its body out they could only shiver in fear.
For a facsimile of an Angel, a skeletal and hollowed inversion of glory was all that peeled itself out. Rotted wings, only a scant few bright feathers remaining attached, so their inborn task despite their superannuation, allows the ghoul with nary skin nor muscle to float down before them. Hollow eyessockets stared them down and the mouth lacking lips opened. "Hhaaaa…" It was an unwilling, terrible noise.
"Y-You are o-our Lords A-Angel?" One of his responded from behind him.
Then they all saw the to-be martyr figure flood itself with Positive Energy, defying the fate their appearance would allot them. Feathers sprung onto skeletal wings, filling with radiance, skin filled out with color and bone was hidden as flesh was healed. Empty eyesockets surfaced their green windows and a bare skull flourished with radiant blond hair once more.
In nary a few seconds, the Angel they had all envisioned stood before them. They all fell to their knees, Gomen's mind flooding with the implication. "I have awakened. For a thousand years, I listened, I heard, but now I shall act. The world shall prepare, shall brace for my God's Divine Presence!" She spoke and they heard, her reverence assuring them of their own.
She gestured to the coffins behind her with each word. "My Master will awake in a scant few years- even with our apparent separation from the Commoner, the clans, these schools and even the average Window shall be aware, shall be ready to welcome Him!" Her eyes were wild with a familiar fervor, one he'd only once seen before in his father's eyes when Gomen awakened the Holy Shrine.
"R-Ryomen Sukuna, our one true Lord, w-will awake? Truly?!" Ino Ryomen, one of the White Sisters, spoke up with a noticeable shudder. And Gomen understood, he felt the sheer anticipation as well!
"Indeed, this coffin is not His place of burial but his site of rebirth!" The Herald of Sukuna began, her white and black robes fluttering over the carpeted stone floor of His Workshop island below.
"What would you require of us, My Lady?" He began, his body shaking with raw anticipation.
"You, his very blood, his very legacy, need not trouble yourself. My new Body, reforged on his graveyard anvil, shall suffice to retrieve what I seek, to announce what I have to announce." He felt her hand, warm to the touch, settle itself on his shoulder.
"We seek not to defy you, but if you seek to prepare for His arrival, then we simply must assist!" Gomen said, even as he felt that his other family members desired oh-so dearly to speak with Angel- a person, a servant that had lived and breathed at the same time as Ryomen Sukuna.
Sighing, Angel herself relented. "Then prepare the clan in my absence. I shall retrieve His Fingers, for they bare his very essence. He crafted them after my entombment, so I require your knowledge."
"We give you our everything, Lady Angel!"
"You have my gratitude. So, we must go forth! To prepare for his Requiem Age!"
Masamichi Yaga was a simple teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu Cursed College… they really should shorten the name. Even just as a teacher for Jujutsu Esoterics, he's already made himself stand-out in the eyes of the Higher Up's… and the less said about his Cursed Corpse formula, the better.
This means that, when Sai Ryomen, an outer branch member of the clan, abdicates as Principal, he's next in line. The Higher Up's being a fair council, the Ryomen can't shoe-in their candidate like they had been known to before its formation.
But for today, and for the foreseeable future, he'll stay the simple JE teacher. It's just an elective, not an extremely popular one by any means, more like Literature for regular academies than anything, but he's got a dedicated few Students nonetheless.
Ieiri Shoko and Suguru Geto standing out amongst them- and, of course, Satoru Gojo, although it was very obvious that the prodigy was only here because his friends dragged him into his class. Really, he'd expected a lot more from the One to Rival the Ryomen but, turns out, he was just a kid, a lazy one at that.
Today, however, he'd been chosen as the supervisor for the weekly Tournament, hosted every Friday, in the teacher's breakroom. Normally, Joseph Jackson, a Sorcerer with a familiar history of British immigration to Japan, was the Cursed Combat teacher, his physical Cursed Technique lending him the close-up combat experience to defy the xenophobia inherent to not only most Japanese traditionalists, but the Higher Up's in specific as well.
But he was grievously injured on a mission and the head Medical Sorcerer Fuyomiki Ryomen, who was coincidentally letting Shoko Ieiri intern with her, was occupied with healing him, so Yaga was subbing in for him today. "No Infinity, no Limitless." He gave Gojo a stare, the kid rolling his pearlescent eyes. "Mister Jackson tells me you had your show-off during the first class of the year already. You're here to learn, not to stand there and watch your classmates punch at you."
Standing amongst the rest of his trio, the rest of the class on the opposite side of the oval grassy area in the middle of the school's track course, Gojo gave him the stink-eye. "Mister Jackson was a lot more chill than you."
Yaga met his glower from behind his own rectangular glasses. "Too bad he's not here today, is he?" He earned himself a scowl. "Now, Ken, you're up." The brunette, lanky boy with spiky hair and noticeable bags under his eyes slumped in preemptive defeat as he was called to spar with Satoru Gojo.
Both walked out in front of the rest of the class when Yaga called out to everybody. "Now, I'll erect a simple Barrier. Try your bests to remember the incantat-"
Before he could finish, the sky above them rippled. "That's… the school's barrier." He whispered to himself. Unlike normal students, these ones of his were trained in combat and most readied themselves at the sight of a tear opening itself in the now tinted sky instead of starting to panic.
A figure, wings of white framing their form, seconded upon them, a sword made of pure light in their hands. "Be not afraid! I am Angel, Herald of Ryomen Sukuna! I seek his Fingers in preparation for his reawakening!"
Even as his eyes widened at the mentioned name, he turned to Suguru Geto, who was pooling a gate to his Technique's abyss below already. "Alert the other teachers, Tengen should already be aware. This could be dire." WIth a hesitant nod, the Cursed Spirit Manipulation User turned and sprinted towards the main body of the campus.
The Twenty Fingers or Ryomen Sukuna are the most infamous Cursed Tools in the World. Two in the possession of the Ryomen clan, eight in the possession of Tengen and two scattered in safety deposits by the Higher Up's around Japan. It is said that the Demonic King incarnates in any who consumes the Cursed Object, his very malevolence and power stored within each.
And now this 'Angel' seeks them? "Are you associated with the Ryomen clan?" He began, wanting to know the sides of this coming conflict. The Cursed Corpse at his feet- a small blue bear- was already jumping on the spot in anticipation of battle.
"I am Ryomen Sukuna's harbinger, his descendants aid me, and so shall I them. Now, do you know where what I seek is located? I have heard your leader possesses many of my God's Fingers." Yaga tensed. Today just couldn't be normal, could it?
Masamichi Yaga waited, tense, for the Angel to make her move. She, evidently, was doing the same… up until she wasn't. Without a word, she moved past him, floating above the ground and towards the internals of the school. He turned around to face the other students and- "Leave, do not get caught up in this. The Ryomen are ruthless." All but Gojo left, running to get other teachers despite their readiness to fight. The remaining teen gave him a resolute grin and he relented, turning back to the Angel. "Ma'am, please refrain f-"
"Do not interrupt my holy mission, ant." A spear of Light, some kind of Cursed Technique, manifested itself in her hand and Yaga sighed.
"By regulation, I am forced to apprehend or kill you." And the ire of the Higher Up's would be just as deadly as the retribution of the Ryomen could be. His Cursed Puppet started running, closing the distance between them as Yaga flooded his body with his Cursed Energy in all the patterns that would strengthen it.
Gojo, who was still standing with him, reached forwards to stop him. "Yaga, stop! Her Cursed Technique, we should be-"
"My Lord would rip eyes like yours out of their heads or less impunity!" She roared before the spear of light cleanly sheared through his Cursed Corpse, stuffy innards flying high into the sky. But Yaga had accounted for this and used the fluff-screen to close the distance himself- another Cursed Corpse, one with punching gloves and with the form of a small bear, behind him.
She didn't seem the close-range fighter, and he would be banking a lot on that fact, for if she could truly annul Jujutsu like she'd been shown to be able to, then not even Gojo would win easily this day. "I do not have the time for games." Were her last words before she blurred.
His back lanced with pain and a heavy kinetic impact launched him down into the dirt, cratering the grass slightly. He hacked up blood, feeling something in his torso break. Turning onto his back, his Cursed Corse hopping onto his chest with light feet and protecting his downed form as best it could.
He saw the Angel turning, mid-swing at Satoru Gojo. Instead of relying on his Infinity, the student hastily dodged. The teen's hand rocketed upwards, a blast of Space attempting to pulverize his opponent.
It splashed harmlessly against the defensively flipped sword. "Interesting Technique. I shall leave you alive, my God enjoyed researching the intricacies of Jujutsu." She blurred again and, despite him expecting it to stop, the sword that was now stabbing at Satoru Gojo's back simply continued on in its path.
It stabbed through his stomach and she held it there, raising the man up high into the sky. "You shall survive, or you are weak." With that, the sword disappeared just as Yaga got up once more. Gojo fell to the ground, bleeding the grass below crimson, paling rapidly.
Before he could get up, could command the dormant Corpses in the school, the Angel disappeared with a blink of his eye- then, his world went dark as something impacted the back of his head.
Tengen watched the man before him with tense eyes- a Curse User, an experiment she was hastily completing. Collecting that many of His Fingers hadn't been unintentional, not entirely. She wanted to know why Ryomen Sukuna, the Strongest Being of All Time, decided to leave their realm early. All except her and the Ryomen believed he incarnated himself into these Fingers.
But she'd seen that they contained nothing but a purely artificial and poor imitation of his Soul, which she herself had glimpsed a thousand years ago when erecting her Japan-wide barrier- which gave her a brief glimpse into any stand-out souls as an unintended side-effect of containing everybody's Cursed Energy within the island.
And today, Angel showed up. After a thousand years of thinking she was dead and buried, killed by Ryomen Sukuna, Tengen sees her shear through her barrier and declares herself His Herald. It scared Tengen, for if he returned, the fragile peace she had erected through careful politics and a lot of luck would shatter. What would emerge from the ashes could be anything from a full tyranny to a better world yet, but she would not risk it.
No matter if she nominally trusted Sukuna's motives to be good, despite the Tales. She suspected her old… friend Kenjaku to be behind the bad name attributed to the ancient Sorcerer.
But she would not have his return, not if it risked the peace she seeks. So, she would stop Angel with the only power she could summon without relying on the clans, who are likely already notified of Angel's words by the odd spying student she can't bother rooting out for the political shitstorm it would cause. Giving her the Fingers was not a possibility, for while she trusted Sukuna somewhat, she did not trust his fanatics.
Especially with the Merger that would occur within the next few days, she could not play the long-con here. She'd have to send students to retrieve the Star Plasma Vessel as well, since any official manpower from the clans would no-doubt be dedicated to preparing for war with the Ryomen before their 'Han-Kami' awakes.
Even as Tengen tries her best to fool Angel through her doors and Barriers, it was only a matter of time before the ancient Sorceress caught on and cut her way to her Blank home. The solution? Fire with fire- a prisoner of hers would consume six of the eight Fingers in their possession. She had no idea what would incarnate, since no actual living being resides within the relics, but whatever monstrosity it was, it couldn't live forever.
It wouldn't generate its own Cursed Energy, after all, and beings that incarnate into modern bodies shouldn't be able to use them to generate said Cursed Energy, because they'd need to be the original Soul to do so.
The last Finger dropped into the mouth of the brunette man and then she opened a gateway below him, right into the underground village that guarded the gigantic, rope-like exterior of her area. Even before his blindfolded and rope-bound self fully dropped through with a yelp, she saw very familiar tattoos appear on his face. Tengen shivered, for they inspired fear.
Angel, Herald of Ryomen Sukuna, was ecstatic, if a bit annoyed. She had awoken, and earlier than her Lord as well! Ever since His radiance had been revealed to her and the Heretic God of her visions had been proven inferior, she had dedicated her life to serving his every need. And currently indisposed as he was, she would do everything she can to steer his clan, his seat of power, to greater heights than they had already achieved.
But before then, she would retrieve his property. The Fingers of His must be an invention of his made after she was sealed, but they were a holy relic of his nonetheless and would be collected as such. Which is why she's in the underground village, to meet with Tengen and force the Immortal to reveal their location.
The underground village she was in was an addition made after her slumber, and it was an annoying one. No door led to the same place, nor would any single one lead you back to where you came from. She was tempted to use her Holy Light to rip this place apart, if not for fear of destroying His Fingers- what might be his very flesh!
Heresy!
No, until the time wasted outweighed her diligence, she would continue to search as she did now.
She walked through an open hallway that stood comparatively high to the rest of the faux-village, the missing walls allowing her to see the middle of the place with clarity. She'd try a few more doors before searching for a hint of what that central structure is once more, or, if her patience ran out by then, to force her way inside.
Just as she was about to reach her destination, she heard the distinct sound of a paper door sliding itself open before she could do so to the one in front of her. Turning to where the sound came from, she saw that there was now… a man wearing a bland and slightly torn white garb lying on the ground, blindfolded and bound by ropes.
And he had her Lord's tattoos.
She frowned, searching for any sign that this could be a messenger or something of the like and, indeed, Ryomen Sukuna's Cursed Energy was starting to supplant the man's own. This only meant one thing- he had been fed something containing an abysmal amount of her Lord's Cursed Energy as well as something containing something akin to his soul, as he was incarnating through this man right now.
But instead of rising with the regal nonchalance she remembered him having, nor with the slight smirk most of his emotional expression bore, the… thing that rose up was not her Lord. "You consumed something that you should not have, Heretic. You have destroyed my God's work and so, I shall be his rightful Paladin and slay you in turn."
A spear of His Light appeared in her right hand and, once more, she marveled at the Gift He had bestowed upon her body. Being entombed, undergoing His Holy Rite, resulted in her strengthening to a degree that would dictate the shattering of any regular Sorcerer's bones upon just one measly punch. She would have to devote herself to her Lord utterly when he awoke- not just in the nominal, vowing way she had all those centuries ago, no.
Body, mind and soul.
She had grown distracted! Shaking her head, she refocused on the heretic in front of her, righteous fury bubbling up inside her. Cuts started opening themselves on the man's skin, tearing through his clothes and through his muscles before healing themselves with instinctual RCT. The same started to happen to his surroundings, only lacking the healing. The wood was torn into in small instants, cuts and gashes tearing into anything around them wildly.
When the blindfold fell off his face, she scowled, as where this man's face once could have been, there was now only a void. His skin was cracked, as if charred, and his eyes had vanished completely. A hollow, airy and exhausted sigh of air left his lips as his head turned to face her, tattoos that were not his, marring his body. "H-Help…"
"Die!" She roared as she launched a trio of spears in his direction.
But, as if controlled by unseen strings, he lurched to the side in unnatural ways, dodging each attack and closing the distance between them. Her senses told her that he was only burning up the ocean-like receive of her Lord's Cursed Energy that now held together his body, since his Cursed Technique was obviously running wild without any conscious control, which meant that even when she was obviously slower and had less Cursed Energy in total, she would only have to survive long enough for this thing to burn itself out.
"Using his likeness, you shall die a thousand times over for your crime!" Instead of rearing back his punch as she flipped a blade of light in its path, he simply continued. With wide eyes, she watched as he unfeelingly had his right arm cleaved in half by her radiant armament, blood splashing onto the floor and bubbling and boiling as it landed.
Now this close, Angel started taking hits from the dozens of arend Dismantles being thrown around wildly, so she flapped her wings and crashed out of the roof behind her. Before she could summon another barrage of light weapons to throw at her target, said target disintegrated the entire upper half of the long stretch of hallway they'd been in with one swipe of his hand.
Splinters of wood forced her to instinctively flinch backwards, forgetting her body would resist any that would seek purchase upon her skin, which opened her to have her ribcage shattered and torso cut into by a kick of the now up-close and in the air Heretic and his array of mindless Dismantles.
Blood splattering out of her and landing amidst the blurring buildings below, she flew and flew, until cratering into the far wall of the dome that held the earth from collapsing on the entire underground structure, her spine snapped as well from the impact. Hissing in pain, she channeled His positive blessing through her body and healed herself.
Then, she scanned the world in front of her for any movements, any sign of this… monster wearing her Lord's markings. The Heretic will burn!
Instead of the withering humanoid, a single familiar string snapped out from deep within some structure below her, digging cleanly into the wall next to her crater. Then, another. And, in just a few seconds, hundreds of black and-whiterimmed strings had embedded themselves into the wall she was laying in.
She aborted the barrage of weapons she was crafting and opted to simply make a spear and to place her feet onto the wall, preparing to meet it head on when it came. But, instead of heading towards her, she heard an unnatural, hollow grunt of exertion echoing out throughout the entire, kilometer-wide area and the wall behind her buckled.
Cracks spread themselves around the diameter of the strings before, with one last and loud grunt, the strings tensed and the entire section of the stone wall she was embedded in was torn out. The sheer force of the move splatted her against the wall with her flat back once more and she was forced to grit her teeth and shakily raise her spear to meet what was coming head on.
And that was the unthinking Heretic, in the air, holding all the strings bunched up in his hands, feet straightened and ready to kick her. Instead of landing somewhere else and performing another, equally favorable move upon seeing her prepared spike, he simply ignored it. Wind rushed into them all and she could barely see him be impaled through his left foot before her world was engulfed by shattered rock, the humongous cement structure torn out from behind her breaking with the force of his drop kick.
And so did her body- her entire ribcage had shattered, as had her spine. Pain lanced all across her system, aborting her weapon and resigning to the defensive. RCT flourished through her body, healing her but draining her into the bottom half of her reserves as well. But the creature was not done with its impure and untrained, but nonetheless powerful mimicry of her Lord's technique.
Most of the strings were still attached to some of the rocks, even as they fell and destroyed the part of the city middle they'd impacted over, and so it pulled at them. Even as it fell down, it closed its fist once more and the strings listened to the command, bunching themselves together and forming two, huge boulders out of the rubble of the wall.
Then, as it fell, it dragged them above her own, falling form, using gravity to do the rest. But she would not be idle, summoning a hail of spears, throwing each one as it fell into her hands. They cratered into the two boulders even as their shadows engulfed her own. As the last spear struck, they all sank a few inches deeper through the force of her will power alone, the minor telepathic control she had over them that she had discovered during her Lord's testing with her used with impunity, as the strings snapped through her Techniques and the rocks were once more made to rubble.
Her wings flapped and she dodged the pieces, settling into the air with a snarl, looking down upon the Heretic as it flung into the edge of a roof, ricochetting into the wall opposite of it and dropping into the hidden alley below. For something so powerful, it now lacked the mind to use any of the power granted. Her Lord, infinite in his wisdom, surely could not have intended his Fingers to be used this way?
She would ask, upon his awakening, but for now, she would have to survive to see it.
Having the time to prepare, seven spears of light summoned themselves around her, forming a pseudo-halo out of radiant weaponry. They floated through her will alone, then she pointed her hand at the ally and the weapons flew with lightning speeds, one after the other in rapid succession. And, hovering closer, she saw that her attacks had connected, impaling the creature into the asphalt below.
Its bleed sizzled into nothing upon her spears, but some leaked onto the floor regardless. But, unlike what she had expected- had been expected the last two times- the incarnation was not cancelled. "What? I do not understand!" Had his very Soul been replaced, was that why that body was withering away, not made for the artificial soul that now inhabited it?
Whatever this experiment of her Lord's was, if it wasn't threatening her very life right now, she would commend and praise him for the ingenuity.
It let out another hollow breath of air before her spears, and the entire block of buildings around it, was eviscerated by a hundred thousand slashes. She could see them, barely, but her perception was adjusting, her body reforged to be perfect for any kind of Jujutsu in that coffin.
It had done a lot for her, but she didn't have the time to think about it, since she felt an array of Slashes come her way, the creature healed once more, now down to half its initial Cursed Energy, swinging its arms up at her wildly while standing in the now flat and barren plane it had created.
Swings of a new Light-Sword cancelled the attacks handily, so she closed the distance with a booming flap of her wings. Landing in front of it, she straightened quickly and swiped her sword.
And just then, she remembered that this thing was acting on pure instincts.
So, it simply… did not react to her attack. It only attacked itself, barely registering any counters, especially lacking eyes, so she simply… sheared through its neck. By then, a lot of the temples of the creature's face had also become withered, but now it would not matter, as she felt the rest of her Lord's Cursed Energy vanish as the body died.
She briefly watched it flop onto the ground, headless, before sighing. "I presume it swallowed one or more Fingers of his. Whoever is at fault pray it was not all of them."
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Fuyomiki Gojo, head of the Gojo clan, though not for long, if their Star rises higher and higher, is furious. And scared… but that's not to be advertised. His emotions are not to be advertised. The Zen'in would cannibalize their last standing allies in a heartbeat if it meant they could reach towards their shared enemy even just one inch closer.
Satoru Gojo was injured and brought to them in critical condition, barely stabilized by that brunette companion on his- it seems that girl had her use after all. But that didn't make him mad, neither did the fact that the Sorcerer who did so is still unpunished.
No, what infuriated him was who this Sorcerer was, and the fact that Tengen had called him and all the other Council members to an actual, official meeting with said Sorcerer. The Door in the very heavily sealed and warded cellar of his clan's compound led to his spot in the dark and veiled Meeting Space of the Council- it was not warded to guard from outside forces, but to prevent any would-be infiltrators from finding anything but death.
He stood within said chamber, preparing to enter the meeting himself. "You will not let them see weakness, for they will rip out your throat and drink your blood, Fuyomiki." There was a small pocket mirror in his hands, through which he saw his own tense, old face staring back at him. Ever since Sugawara No Michizane was slain, their history had been marred by defeat and cowardice.
Satoru Gojo was their key to freedom, to greatness, he would not waste it. And he would not tolerate his endangerment. He would demand retribution, from whoever this was. The Ryomen shouldn't catch wind of this, not until it's too late.
He sent a fleck of his Cursed Energy at the door and, briefly, it glowed. Then, it slid open and he was presented with a fully encased wooden hallway, a paper door with a small lantern in front of it at the end. He took a breath and walked forwards. Unlike the first time, he wasn't startled when the wooden box around him disappeared when he sat down, revealing him to be sat in complete darkness, on a platform of darkness, with six other such windows floating in the darkness as well.
But what Fuyomiki focused on was the two people in the middle, one of them who should have been behind one of the now empty, hidden compartments. Tengen, silver hair framing her immortal and only somewhat old face, stood with a dour and regretful expression, an Angel floating above her.
"Fellow council members, in my haste, I have made a mistake. I apologize." Was the only thing she said before the Angel floated forwards into the center of the only place of light in this space.
This person was powerful and the one his spy at the academy had announced to him to be the perpetrator of Satoru Gojo's injury- however, being a lowly Manager, he hadn't been close enough to hear her speak nor to interact with her. "Bowing to this criminal as you are, we will need more than an apology." He said.
His tentative ally, Naobito Zen'in was the next to reply. The old man was a pain, the few times they'd spoken after he had painstakingly forged an alliance with the drunkard had been boring and unfulfilling. "And who would you be, lass?"
This time, Gomen Ryomen spoke up. "Our ally, and we absolve her of any crimes she might have allegedly committed. The Fingers we now possess were our property anyways." They wanted to speak up, to rip out their pound of flesh, but their preparations weren't complete yet.
Satoru wasn't ready yet.
So, he held his tongue and, thankfully, so did the drunkard. Then, with a haughty but contradictorily light voice, the Angel spoke up. "I am Angel, Herald of Ryomen Sukuna."
The hall stilled. His breath halted. Naobito was the first to speak up. "You dare speak the Demon's name in front of us?"
His Cursed Energy fell upon the rest of them like a malevolent blanket, announcing once more that, besides the distantly interested Gomen, he was the strongest Sorcerer in the room. Or, he was, until Angel flexed her own, blisteringly radiant power.
They all heard the laughter of the Ryomen. "You are fools to defy her, to defy us."
Angel gave a flat stare at her only confirmed ally. "I serve my God first, you are but fellow priests. I aid you, that is all, do not presume to preside over me." Maybe that's something he could use… Ugh, but she seems as zealotrous as the main branch, and that meant she wouldn't budge.
Not once in history has anybody crafted a spy in the Ryomen. They were just too content, too devoted, too loyal. Even the regular members, if not even more so. They had the humility to recognize that they should be thankful for all they inherit, for the luxury they live in.
"I am His Angel, and I will prepare the world for His arrival. Already, I have claimed some of His Twenty Artifacts from Tengen, now I will claim yours." His eyes widened, how did she know? Nobody should be aware that he and the Zen'in possess three of the six remaining Fingers each.
They'd hidden that information from anybody, only to be inherited by the next clan head, to not incur the wrath of the Ryomen or Kamo. "W-What do you mean, Curse User." He tried to, once more, alienate her from the rest, drawing attention to the lack of any official Sorcerer certification she could have. "And you say you have known Sukuna himself, clearly, you are delusional."
Another Zealot, she's making things up. She can't be speaking the truth. He cannot be returning.
"I do not care for the opinions of the lesser clans, you shall give up His property or you shall be conquered, as He did a thousand years ago." Was her reply.
Even only seeing his silhouette, he saw Naobito turn his head to him and solemnly nod. It seems like they don't have the time to prepare. The Last Cursewar will start early- their last, combined attempt to topple the reign of the Ryomen. "We refuse."
"Then prepare, for only by the grace of my Lord's wishes to keep the system alive, for he crafted it himself, will I let you leave this place alive."
"Angel, please. We do not have to resolve this with conf-" Tengen began, trying to be peaceful, but he interrupted her.
"There is no other way, Tengen. War with the Ryomen is dawning, it has been dawning for a thousand years. And you cannot stay neutral this time, for you have chosen to involve yourself with politics." He laughed at the bland argument he presented. It was correct, however. Tengen had defied this Angel once before now, and the Ryomen would not accept, might even go after her schools.
They knew Tengen had long since devoted resources to the civilian world, ridding herself of the direct need for Ryomen funding, as such she is free to choose a side. And she has.
And so, even the Kyoto Schools head, who hadn't spoken, silently nodded along. "Then it is war." Gomen Ryomen spoke with an audible smile. "We shall destroy you this time, utterly. Your numbers have not been needed to cleanse Curses for decades now. We await you at our gates, squabble, try and falter against our might. We will crush your fighting force and proceed to perish your homes. We give you this one chance, try."
His body is perfectly still as he watches the small tombstone with impunity, idly playing with a small Yen coin with his dexterous fingers. For a whole hour, he's been sitting here, waiting for the target his current contractor wanted dead. It was just a Curse, no rogue Sorcerer or Curse User, but he's paid well and that's all that mattered to him.
Below, out of the grave, the Grade One Curse finally rose, a kind of centipede made out of human skulls and skeletal arms. Grinning, he picked up his Favorite Tool, the dagger that fit more on the head of a spear than anything, from out of the mouth of the Curse wrapped around his torso and took a breath.
He barely flexed his strength and the branch he'd been sitting on snapped off the tree as he flickered towards the thing below. A grin on his face, the earth shattered below the creature as his dagger slammed into its body, a shockwave emanating from the impact. Despite saying it was purely for the money, he did always like the thrill of a good fight during these contracts.
And, in a single attack, the Curse below him was dead. "Huh. I wanted a bit more from you, 'lil guy." He sighed in disappointment. "Well, can't have your cake and ea-" He was interrupted when the flipphone in his pocket started vibrating- somebody was calling him.
He didn't give many people his number, least of all anybody that would call him during a contract, and those few that had his number should know when he's on a contract. He fished it out and flipped it open. "Toji." His eyes widened- of course its the only man in the world who, even if he knew, wouldn't give a fuck what he was doing.
"Naobito. You have ten seconds." He tersely replied. After offering him… ah, Megumi! That's his name- after offering him Megumi, Toji Fushiguro was glad to never ever interact with the old bastard again, but forgetting to block his numbers seems to bite him in the ass now.
He heard a scoff over the line. "I'm hiring you, for a job, paid with money. That's what you're after usually, right?" He heard the derision in his voice but couldn't care less. Interested, he halted his mental timer at 'seven' and spoke back.
"I'm quite sought after, old man." Was his only reply as he stepped off the disintegrating Curse below him, starting to make his way to the rented apartment his laptop was at, so he could mark the job as complete and get the other half of the money he was now owed.
Another scoff. "You'll get half the treasury- we just need you to assist in a little… raid we're planning." He remembered the whispers from back when he was a child- back when he was weak. An invasion of the Ryomen, toppling the zenith of their world and reclaiming their ancient glory. He didn't care then, and neither did he now. It was partly the reason why he fucked off as soon as possible, because he knew he didn't have to kill those bastards himself, they'd throw themselves into the meatgrinder by their own free wills.
Mostly, he got out of that particular hell because he hated it there, though.
And after doing a few contracts to kill just the flunkies of the Ryomen's academies, who some wanted dead by pure association to the clan that did whatever the fuck it wanted and because they were the only ones weak enough to target, he could attest that he would probably not stand a chance against the top-dogs of that clan.
Though something deep inside him still yearned to test that theory.
"Against who?" He knew what the answer would be, already.
"The Ryomen, who else?" Naobito barked a laugh, but he was more tense than Toji had ever heard the man. This coming conflict would most likely cost them all their lives. One question remained then, why so early? Why attack now when they were unprepared enough to call him for help?
Well, money was money- and he wanted to test himself as well.
"Half up front." He began and, immediately, multiple million Yen were deposited into his Mercenary Bank account- he grinned at his phone. "Sure, I'm in. I'm not talking to you or the other chucklefucks past anything related to the mission, though."
"Sure! Whatever you want, Sorcerer Killer."
"War is on the horizon- or, at least a conflict of scales the Jujutsu world hasn't seen before." With the increase in Sorcerer population and the numbers of full-fledged factions currently in on this battle, it would be the greatest shedding of blood in their history.
Satoru Gojo was just… frustrated. He didn't care about the war, but he'd inadvertently made himself an enemy of the Ryomen, if only by virtue of standing against that blonde lunatic. So, "I guess I'm fulfilling my 'destiny' early…" He grumbled to himself as Yaga looked at the amassed students in this small classroom- only the third years and his trio of first year friends.
Suguru Geto, Shoko Ieiri and Him, Satoru Gojo, were invited to participate in this war by principal Tengen only because of their strength and Ieiri's healing. The other twelve academy students were here by obligation, making up most of the last year except for the four Ryomen members, who were recalled a week ago after the war was declared.
He found it bizarre how a school of all things was participating in a war now, but it seems like reason was abandoned at the front door when it came to Jujutsu! After getting healed back at home, he'd returned to the academy after 'assuring' his father that he'd fight with them. He'd made an enemy of the Ryomen, and with how infamously zealotrous their leaders were, defecting wasn't an option. Not a reliable one, at least.
Can't trust people like them.
And something deep within him wanted to defeat that Angel person, too. To prove that the potential everybody keeps whispering he had was real, that he could rise to the heights only few before him had. "Tengen does not force you all to fight, but the monetary incentive is there. A… reward for each Ryomen Sorcerer slain."
"This is… brutal. Unethical." Some kid behind him growled.
Yaga nodded. "Tengen and I agree, but the Ryomen show no mercy, have not for a thousand years. We fight or we die, it's as simple as that. I'm sorry that you're all forced into this conflict, really I am but… I just hope it doesn't escalate."
Gojo had a feeling it would do a whole lot more than just 'escalate'
"Isn't the beach just so tranquil, Jogo?" Mahito asked. He's a young and spry Curse, having formed just recently, so he's been enjoying all the wonderful experiences inherent to a conscious being- like playing in the ocean!
"You will have to thank Dagon for that." Jogo, not yet having been acquainted with Mahito for more than a few hours, not yet aware of his eccentricities, simply replies in a diplomatic affirmative.
"Oh, I will, but aren't we getting off track?" He asked, settling himself down onto the beach chair next to Jogo, who was standing, his cane in the sand, watching the far, fake ocean's horizon with his single, gleaming eye. "We were discussing using the oncoming conflict the Sorcerers are causing to usher in your… Era of Curses, you called it?"
"Age of Curses." He corrected amicably. "And it will be glorious. We simply have to cause chaos while the Sorcerers distract and kill each other, spreading them thin until we can pick off the big players ourselves- we might even be fortunate enough to have Gomen die!" And conscious Curse acted far, far away from the Ryomen clan's main seat of power- Tokyo.
If you were sufficiently strong as a Curse and were near their domain, you would die. No matter how strong you thought you were. It's how he lost Hanami. "Well, I'm in! I don't really know what I want to do yet, but getting some humans to experiment on with my technique sounds fun!" Mahito energetically replied.
"Well, I think we'll get along nicely, Mahito."
Really short chapter this time, because the War Saga will begin next chapter with the Siege on the Ryomen Compound and the Attack on the Kamo. Two fronts, two main battles and a surprise and long-awaited guest appearance, at least, if I can fit it into the chapter XD!
Sorry to everybody on the Discord, I might've lied when I said I wasn't posting today, I got inspired enough despite my exhaustion! But, technically, it's 1 AM for me, so I didn't technically lie!
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EDIT: Also, I am aware that Mahito should not have formed yet at this spot in the timeline. This is not the case here.
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"You are assigned with a special mission, you two." Yaga stared down the duo of trouble makers turned soldiers in front of him. Ever since the school-wide announcement of the actual war going on, things had gotten more solemn. Academic classes had been cancelled and more focus was being dedicated to missions and combat instruction.
The atmosphere was heavier, suffice to say.
"Hm?" Gojo perked up, the back of the chair he had been resting his head on after turning it around wobbling as he sat straight. "Another Special Grade Curse?" He asked, tired from how he'd been run ragged the past three days- killing all Curses they'd been putting off on killing before the conflict. Tengen wasn't implicitly helping the clans with the war against the Ryomen but she is forced to send reinforcements to any ongoing battles- not forced, per se, but highly encouraged.
Which was a fancy way of saying 'you have to, otherwise we'll be gunning for your head as well'.
"No, something more personal for our principal." If he didn't know that Yaga was gunning for Vice principal- who many just referred to as 'the principal', since the current one, a shoe-in from the Ryomen, was actually running the school with Tengen just assuming the official title of Principal to designate herself the 'leader' or their 'faction', he'd have thought he'd hear bitterness in that tone.
"You will retrieve the current Star Plasma Vessel."
Hattori Ryomen, far branch member of the Ryomen, was the only Special Grade of his clan outside the Inherited Technique branches. They had dozens of Grade Ones, but only he qualified for the Special Grade due to his Cursed Technique and its raw, destructive potential. Enough to, if he fully used almost all his Cursed Energy while, additionally, inside his Domain, he could reasonably destroy a big part of a city.
Repeat that a few times, and he could take over a country handily- so, Special Grade. One of the few actually public Special Grades of the Ryomen besides Gomen as well. And currently, he was tasked with watching the front gate from on top of the wall with nine other Grade one Sorcerers. Zuko Kamo, the strongest Blood Manipulator of this age and somebody Hattori was sure he'd lose against, was stationed in the forest in front of them somewhere with three more members of his clan and a support member.
His shoulder-length black hair fell around his face as he sighed, letting the looking glass fall to his side. "Why are these idiots even attacking?" He asked Chiaki, his girlfriend and user of a very useful support Cursed Technique, which allows her to touch somebody and give them her Cursed Energy as surplus once a day without losing her own store- basically copying her Cursed Energy reserves onto another person once a day. And considering she had quite the bit, it was certainly useful.
Not that he liked her for her usefulness, mind you. "Well, they've had a hate-boner for us for centuries, Hattori. And with our Angel waking up and… being a bit too zealous about taking back what she thinks is ours, we kinda pushed them into this. Well, the old fucks did, but we're defending our home and our Lord regardless."
"Yeah, I know, it's j-" His eyes immediately focused as he felt something enter the barrier he'd been allowed access to for today. "Incoming!" He roared, not notifying the enemy since, even with enhanced senses, they should still be too far out.
But the first blow wasn't struck by a fist nor a tool, but by a Cursed Technique. They heard a roar from deep within the forest, before- "Upsize!" A tree appeared right in front of him in the air. Hattori braced to smash it apart when… he noticed that it wasn't actually right in front of him, no, it was just half a kilometer large and falling towards their gates.
Then, he saw a blade of blood cut through a whole slew of trees on the forest to the left of the path in front of them- things had kicked off. "Zeno, your technique, now!" He ordered and the almost too frail looking blonde late-teen stepped forwards with a resolute nod, channeling his power into his Cursed Technique. His last words before falling unconscious were-
"Two minutes…"
And so, they had been granted two minutes of immortality.
Seeing the main fighting force of the Gojo and the Zen'in finally peek over on the horizon, they all rushed forwards. His feet had barely hit the ground when it rumbled and broke. Faintly, he saw an old man amidst the four dozen enemies place his palms on the ground before him, Chiaki and two more of his assault squad were lifted into the air by the tree-destroying gigantic stone hands that ripped themselves out of the ground.
But even as it crushed them, the stone buckled instead of their bodies, immortality assuring they stayed uninjured. And with a snarl, Hattori activated his technique. Immediately, with a flick of his fingers, most of the hand in front of him exploded into rubble with the sound of a loud crash of kinetic force.
Then, he lightly elbowed the hand behind him and the same happened. His team, now falling down onto the stumps of the hands, quickly rushed forwards, Chiaki with her Cursed Spear that would allow her to drain the Cursed Energy from enemies upon hit- her finest creation, if he said so himself. He'd helped her somewhat, after all, back at the academy.
Then, one of his squad members' heads exploded as Naobito Zen'in himself, having somehow reached near-sound speeds, kicked through it and continued on to make the first crater in their clan's walls during the last thousand years. His eyes widened and he snarled, giving his comrade a prayer before shouting- "I'm taking him on, you hold the rest off, coordinate with the Kamo, they should attack an-" And so his word became truth as the outer edges of the still-approching fighting force was decimated by spears of blood that rose from the ground.
Five people rushed out of the edges of the forest and his team joined them, now they had the main alpha strike surrounded. But, despite wanting to be with his girlfriend to assure her safely, he knew she would handle herself, so as he landed on the ground, he flickered towards Naobito, who, with his spiky mustache, dug himself out of the wall with a frown. "Charing up that long usually crushes any walls in my way."
Then, he turned around to face him with a grin. "As it did your friend's head."
Hattori grit his teeth and thanked Chiaki for giving him her Cursed Technique's blessing, for now he activated his own Technique, which he could keep up for the next ten minutes if it required that of him. "I'm going to mount your head on my wall." Was his own response before they both blurred into action.
He aimed for the old man's head, but said old man was faster, ducking his attack and his palm touching his abdomen, past his black robe. Immediately, the world became a smudged mess of visual input and, briefly, he didn't even feel his body. Then, the world shattered as he was punched straight in the jaw. Whatever that was, it hurt.
But, judging from the way Naobito Zen'in was now cradling his broken fist, his technique hadn't stopped working when he was… glassified or whatever. "What the fuck is your technique, boy? Your rumors say you have a strength enhancer." Hattori barked out a laugh at that. It couldn't be further from the truth!
"I'm not petty enough to reveal my technique, old man." Despite the attack the clan head landed, he was still right as rain a second after the pain ended, his two minutes of immortality not yet used up. So, he rushed forwards again and the old man did as well, though this time Hattori activated Domain Amplification over both his fists, grabbing the man's own in the middle of one of his twenty-four frames- he was aware of their technique, most Ryomen were after all their conflicts- and negating turning into a still frame himself, which wasn't something he knew about, via-
Ooops, he still became frozen. The Zen'in chuckled as he spun for a kick. "Y'think that would've worked? Nice try, my technique isn't that simple!" He was launched backwards once more, but this time Naobito chased him. He went for a kick to his temple as he halted his momentum, but Hattori dodged it by rolling to the side.
Now both back on their feet, Naobito blurred once more, flickering out of sight. But Hattori was adjusting, he wasn't just a Special Grade for his Technique, after all. He saw the edges of motion to his left and stepped to the side, Naobito missing a palm strike to his shoulder, the man snarling at his whiff. In retaliation, knowing he can't touch the man for fear of being frozen, he simply slid his foot an inch towards him, using his technique.
A wall of dust and dirt impacted Naobito's torso, the man growling in pain at the sudden attack from such a seemingly innocent motion. But he was a Sorcerer, so a bit of dirt wouldn't hurt him much, especially with the RCT Hattori saw blooming. Snarling in frustration, Hattori waved the back of his flat palm in a semi-circle around him, channeling a whole slew of Cursed Energy through his technique.
Which resulted in leveling a good hundred meters of forest around him through sheer wind pressure, ripping through trees and boilers alike, though falling useless against the wall of the compound. Naobito, having flickered backwards with his technique, was still hit, although he mostly made it out of the cone of attack, resulting in him only losing an arm. "If I hadn't taken the time to learn RCT due to our plans, I'd be real angry about this, y'know?" Was his only comment as he expended a lot of energy healing back his limb- bone, then muscle and tendon, then skin.
Framed by the utter destruction now behind him as he turned around, Hattori grinned. "And it will be for nothing."
"HAIIIIIIYYAAA!!!!" Gojo languidly side-stepped the blue-haired girl wearing a school uniform as she drop kicked the door of her apartment blindly when he opened it with the key he'd been given by the Window at the reception. She humphed as she impacted the wall, falling to the ground. She briefly cradled her behind in pain before jumping up and taking on an amateur karate stance. "Wrong posture, girl." He commented with a smirk.
"I'm not taking advice from a kidnapper!"
"We're with Tengen." Suguru said with a sigh.
From the apartment, a brunette wearing a maid uniform emerged and bowed deeply. "I am sorry for Lady Amanai's behavior! We've had to deal with two kidnapping attempts already!"
Satoru Gojo didn't like that, so he asked- "From who? If we're to escort you to the merger, I'd like to know who's attacking a little girl of all things."
"I'm not little!" She pouted and went ignored.
"The Star Religious group, an organization that believes Tengen should ascend. They've sent two agents already, we're thankful for your escort, Mister Gojo!" She bowed again- he was getting tired of the formality. He had to deal with that enough, he had to deal with enough responsibility. This mission wasn't helping his cortisol levels, really.
"Well, I'll just kill 'em if they show up. Now, Tengen gave you two days to say goodbye, we're kinda at war." Was Satoru's only comment, at which Amanai shirked backwards, visibly saddened.
Suguru shook his head with an exasperated sigh once more. "What he meant to say was that we're in dire times, but that Lady Tengen still vouches for your happiness. We'll take you wherever you want, do whatever you wish, for the next two days." That made her perk up more.
"O-Oh, okay?" The bluenette timidly replied.
Satrou didn't have time for this. Or did he? The responsibility to his clan, the destiny he'd been told to fulfill all his life, called to him. It was part of him now, even with as little motivation or emotion connected to it as it was. But another part, the one born when he first made friends with Ieiri and Suguru, wanted to relish in this time.
In these two days free of 'destiny' and 'fate'. Free of needing to fight a battle for people that died a thousand years ago. "Let's just… go." He said and they all made their way to the elevator, Suguru shooting him a worried look that he waved away.
He always liked fighting, be it to grow stronger so that he might one day fulfill that responsibility or because he just loved the thrill of it, and maybe he'll have the opportunity to beat some cult into the dirt now, to alleviate some stress. Yeah, that sounded nice.
As the elevator stopped on a separated floor to pick up another person, both Satoru and Suguru tensed as said person was revealed. It wasn't somebody they knew, or somebody that they had even heard of, but it was a Sorcerer. A strong one at that. The doors slid open and they shifted their postures, ready for battle.
But instead of a weapon-wielding cultist or a raving fanatic… a pink-haired teenager wearing a yellow hoodie gave them a grin and a wave before stepping in. "Ah, sorry to intrude!" This kid could, at max, be fourteen, the same age Riko Amanai was- why was she staring at him like that?
"Ah, Yuji!" She exclaimed at this 'Yuji' kid, a Curse User, judging from the fact that they had no clue who this kid was, and jumped to hug him.
"Ah, Amnai! Didn't see you there. You're going out?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at Satoru and Suguru.
Separating, she shook his head. "Ah, no! I'm heading for the merger." Gojo's eyes widened, as did Suguru's. Below, under the elevator, before it started moving again, his Six Eyes told him Geto summoned an eel Curse that could swallow this entire compartment whole.
"Hey, Riko? I think you-" Suguru began but was interrupted.
Giving him a 'are you stupid' stare, the schoolgirl responded dryly. "You can sense it, he's a Sorcerer and my boyfriend, for that matter!" Separating from him, Yuji turned to face them.
"You're from Jujutsu High, right? My dad said I should keep away from 'the public', whatever that meant, so I never got to attend! Sorry to scare you, I mean no harm!" Though the kid, a bit shorter than Satoru, and Amanai shared a knowing glance, having a silent conversation the rest of the people in the elevator were not privy to, seemed innocent enough, Satoru did not lower his guard.
Especially, because- "You're with the Ryomen, stop lying kid. I see your technique." At his fingertips, Limitless beckoned to blow this place apart, and this 'Yuji' along with it.
"A-Ah, that's a long story! I don't know much about my cousins, but I know they're big shots, right? Well, my great-great-great-something grandma kind of ran away from the main branch- I think that's what they're called- and that's why I have their…" He snapped his fingers in the air, trying to remember a word. "Inherited Technique, right! Sorry, I'm just now finishing my dad's basic Jujutsu Education plan, I'm homeschooled and don't have the resources you guys do, sorry!"
Satoru and Suguru shared their own glances. He had Shrine and a whole lot of Cursed Energy to use it with. A battle between them would certainly end with their victory, but this kid was very well able to kill one of them in the process. Sighing, he gave Suguru, the more level-headed of their current duo, a nod, leaving him the choice.
The black-haired and narrow-eyed friend of his gave him a glare before responding, taking Amanai's begging stare into account with a wince of broken procedure. "Well, ignoring the fact that we don't believe you, we'll keep an eye on you regardless. You'll be registering with the Administration if you don't want to be branded a Curse User- and then you'll take us to your father."
Yuji scratched his chin for a moment before nodding. "Well, dad said I shouldn't fight people unless they attack me first, so sure!" He leaned onto the back wall of the elevator, walking past the both of them, Amanai cuddling into his chest as he did so. "Where are we heading?" Yuji asked.
"Well, your girl decides that." Gojo waved.
Amanai perked up. "Let's go to the beach!"
AN: Well… you guys probably didn't expect that, right? Well, I've fully leaned into fucking over the timeline! Yuji is born early, since Kaori never died in a car crash or whatever here, since I've always thought her death was engineered by Kenjaku, who is out of the picture for them. And Yuji's forced himself into the plot, with his own Shrine in his pocket!
What could happen?
Fucking anything, find out next time on; Heian that's no longer in the Heian Era!
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