Time skip
With the shift of the wind, the Grade 1 curse spirit launches its fist toward me, the massive limb tearing through the air with a shrill howl as pressure ripples outward. The sheer displacement bends the grass flat and sends loose debris skittering across the training ground. Yet my focus never leaves Geto, who moves in at the same instant, his face calm and unreadable as cursed energy floods his body. I can see it clearly now—his reinforcement is layered and efficient, wrapping his muscles and bones like invisible armor. His speed spikes sharply, each step compressing the ground beneath him, and in only seconds he reaches my position, timing his assault perfectly with his curse spirit's strike.
Kai steps to the side, avoiding the hit from the Cyclops curse spirit by the smallest possible margin. The massive arm crashes down where I stood, smashing into the surface of the training ground and ripping the earth apart. Stone fractures violently, dirt explodes upward, and a deep crater forms from the blunt power alone, shockwaves rolling outward in concentric rings. Instinctively, Cleave: Reentry activates through the contact of Kai's feet with the ground, slashing through space beneath me and removing the transferred impact force. The tremor that should have thrown me off balance is erased, allowing my footing to remain perfectly stable—just in time for a kick from Geto to follow through the smoke with almost perfect timing after the previous strike.
Kai:
"Nice… that would be lethal to anyone."
Geto's face shifts into a slight frown at my words, irritation flashing briefly in his eyes as he adjusts his stance, already preparing his next move.
Geto:
"What do you mean 'anyone'? What about you? You're a cocky brat—you're becoming more like Satoru."
My expression shifts into something colder, detached, almost distant, as if the battlefield itself has faded from my concern.
Kai:
"Do not compare me to the weakest Six Eyes user in history."
At that very moment, as the battle continues to escalate, the voices of those watching carry across the shattered ground.
Gojo:
"I've got a parlay for five K on Geto winning."
Mei Mei:
"I would've said the same… but that boy's expression tells me everything I need. I've got ten K on little rose-eyes over there."
Shoko:
"I like being the ref… but if I had to bet, it would be on Geto."
With a cocky grin, Gojo turns toward Shoko and Mei Mei, clearly enjoying himself.
Gojo:
"Come on, Shoko, just bet on Geto. If he loses, I'll cover for you."
He then tilts his head toward Mei Mei, mockery dripping from his tone.
Gojo:
"Mei Mei, do you truly think that brat can beat Geto? Are you losing your ability of judgment as well?"
Mei Mei smiles faintly, her eyes never leaving the fight.
Mei Mei:
"Well, I'm doing the bet just to spite you… but I don't know. He just might surprise us."
Boom..
Gojo:
"Hey!! Brat, I heard that! Hey!! Geto, you've got next—I'll teach him a lesson!"
Yaga:
"That Kai… why do I get the feeling he will rival you, Gojo?"
Shoko:
"Do you really think so, Yaga-sensei?"
Boom..
Back on the battlefield, the ground continues to rupture under the pressure of clashing forces.
Kai:
"You know… if you answer my next question honestly, and I get a respectable answer, I might just spare some of your curse spirits."
Geto:
"Oh, really? How overconfident of you. Now you've got me curious—what's the question?"
Boom..
The dust bursts outward again as the clash of the giant curse spirit's fist is stopped mid-motion by Cleave: Reentry, boosted by my chant. The glow of crimson flares in Kai's eyes, and for a brief second, space itself freezes. The air goes unnaturally silent as slashes split reality, moving through unseen pathways, guided by the vectors that only I can perceive.
Boom..
The massive upper and lower left arms of the Cyclops curse spirit are severed cleanly, crashing to the ground with thunderous force. The impact sends tremors through the field, cracks racing across the stone like lightning. Kai slips past a counterpunch, leaning his body to the left and twisting smoothly into a powerful push kick off his left leg. Geto parries by crossing his arms in front of his chest, absorbing the blow with reinforced forearms. The collision produces a sharp shockwave that ripples the air, snapping nearby branches.
With a flick of Geto's wrist, shadows peel open beneath Kai's feet. From the darkness erupts another curse spirit—sleek and twisted, with long tentacles and ragged wings—its limbs shooting upward to bind and restrain me.
On pure instinct, Kai turns his body and leaps backward into a flash-step backflip, narrowly avoiding the grasping tentacles. Using the momentum, he strikes the Giant Cyclops curse spirit directly in the head, his body inverted mid-air, eyes locked downward on the shadows below and the new curse as Geto is momentarily lifted by its tentacle.
Kai:
"Amplification Charge Extinguish: Cleave."
The kick connects.
Countless lines appear across the Cyclops curse spirit's body, forming intersecting grids of destruction. Space fractures violently, and the curse spirit is atomized, shredded into nothing but dispersing cursed energy that scatters like ash on the wind.
Mid-air, Kai reaches up and removes his blindfold. His dark crimson eyes are fully exposed now, glowing intensely as they take in the world at its deepest level. With a brief flash, time seems to stretch and thin under his perception. Everything slows. Every movement, every particle, every distortion becomes visible.
Dismantle…
Before even subconscious thoughts can fully form, all the tentacles of the Grade 1 curse spirit are severed, slashed into massive chunks of flesh that fall uselessly to the ground, splattering cursed residue across the shattered terrain.
.
.
.
.
.
Suguru Geto — Point of View
I knew the moment the wind shifted.
Not because of cursed energy—there was plenty of that already flooding the field—but because the rhythm of the fight changed. The ground stopped reacting after impact. That doesn't happen unless someone interferes with the transfer itself.
Kai wasn't tanking hits.
He was erasing consequences .
That realization settled uncomfortably in my chest as another one of my curse spirits lost an arm without ever understanding why. No roar. No resistance. Just separation—clean, deliberate, almost disrespectful.
He wasn't fighting like a sorcerer.
He was fighting like someone who had already accepted the outcome and was simply moving through the steps required to reach it.
I couldn't explain this feeling I got from him, but I could see it in his eyes .
I tightened my reinforcement instinctively, layering it deeper. Not because I felt threatened—at least that's what I told myself—but because my body understood before my pride did.
This boy is dangerous.
Not in the loud way Satoru is. Not in the overwhelming way special grades announce themselves just by existing.
Kai's danger was quiet.
Efficient.
Instinctively planned .
When my Cyclops curse threw its punch, I expected Kai to dodge—maybe counter, maybe slash the arm on contact. That would've been normal. Predictable.
Instead, the ground itself stopped betraying him.
The crater still formed ,when the curse's Fist hit. The shockwave still expanded. But his footing never shifted. No loss of balance. No adjustment step.
He'd already corrected for the aftermath.
Cleave: Reentry..
That what he said..
Was that an amplification of his curse technique.
I didn't know the name yet, but I grasped the function instantly.
He wasn't blocking the strike.
He was cutting the effect .
That… shouldn't be possible.
Techniques interfere with energy, matter, sometimes even concepts—but force? That was supposed to be universal. Immutable.
And yet there he was, standing in the center of destruction like it was nothing more than scenery.
When I followed with my kick, timing it to exploit the smoke and pressure wave, I felt a flash of satisfaction. Even Satoru would've had to react.
Kai did react.
But not how I expected.
No panic. No scramble.
Just a single shift of weight and a glance in my direction, like he'd already seen it coming.
"Nice… that would be lethal to anyone."
I frowned before I could stop myself, when Kai said thoses words.
That wasn't bravado.
That was a statement of fact.
When he told me not to compare him to Satoru—called him the weakest Six Eyes user in history—I should've been offended on my friend's behalf.
Instead, I was busy recalculating.
This boy wasn't measuring himself against Gojo.
He was measuring Gojo against something else.
As the fight dragged on, I noticed something unsettling: Kai wasn't prioritizing my curse spirits.
He was prioritizing me.
The Cyclops, the shadows, the winged binders—they were obstacles. Tools. Variables.
I was the target.
That realization hit hard when he spoke again—offering to spare some of my curses if I answered his question honestly.
Arrogant, yes.
But also strategic.
He knew exactly how much pressure he was applying. Knew I'd already lost several high-grade spirits. Knew I was still holding back.
And worse—he knew I knew.
Then it happened.
The space around him… stilled.
Not froze. Not slowed.
Stilled..
Like the world itself was holding its breath.
When his eyes lit up—deep crimson, sharp, focused—I felt something I hadn't felt but only against Satoru .
A genuine spike of alertness.
The Cyclops lost its arms in an instant. No struggle. No resistance. Just clean severance, like the world had decided they were no longer necessary.
I countered with shadows, deploying another spirit beneath his feet. Binding. Restraining. Classic.
He didn't even look surprised.
He moved like someone stepping around furniture in a familiar room.
The backflip wasn't flashy—it was economical. Precise. He used the momentum to attack, not escape.
And when he kicked—
No.
When he finished the Cyclops—
I felt the cursed energy disperse before I saw the body break apart. Atomized. Reduced to nothing.
That was when he removed his blindfold.
And everything clicked.
When the saw the fading glow of his crimson eyes.
He'd been limiting himself.
Not out of necessity.
Out of choice.
When Dismantle activated, I didn't feel the attack coming.
I felt the absence left behind.
My curse's tentacles were there—and then they weren't. The space they occupied simply refused to acknowledge them anymore.
Chunks of flesh hit the ground seconds later, like reality catching up.
I stood there, surrounded by the remains of my own arsenal, and understood something very clearly:
If this were a real fight—
If this boy had killing intent—
I would already be missing limbs.
Possibly worse.
Kai isn't a prodigy.
He isn't a genius.
He's something far more troubling.
He's a sorcerer who understands the rules well enough to bend them without breaking composure .
That is the feeling I get from him.
And that kind of person?
That kind of person doesn't just change battles.
They change eras.
For the first time since enrolling at Jujutsu High, I felt it—
Not rivalry.
Not jealousy.
But the quiet certainty that the world was shifting beneath our feet.
And Kai…
was standing right at the center of it.
.
.
.
.
.
The battle shifts as cursed energy roars violently across the training ground, the air distorting under the pressure. Muscles flex visibly along Kai's body as his cursed energy tightens and compresses, reinforcing every fiber. In an instant, his figure blurs and vanishes from Geto's line of sight, reappearing behind him in a violent burst of displaced air.
They are now in hand-to-hand combat, the distance between them erased completely.
A punch from Kai snaps forward, sharp and direct, but Geto catches it cleanly, his forearm braced and flooded with cursed energy. The impact sends a dull shock through both of them. Geto immediately counters, twisting his torso and firing back a strike aimed at Kai's ribs—but Kai moves in, elbow snapping up to parry the blow at close range.
Their bodies clash with practiced precision.
With the quick, natural instincts Geto has honed through countless battles, he raises his knee and drives it upward toward Kai's torso, aiming to crush his center of mass. But in the brief glint within his eyes, Geto already knows—
Kai will not go down so easily.
Using the opening, Kai steps directly onto Geto's raised knee, balancing on it for a fraction of a second as if gravity itself had loosened its grip on him. Then he launches upward, twisting his hips and driving a Tony Jaa–style knee strike straight toward Geto's head.
The blow catches Geto by surprise.
His head snaps back slightly as he leans into the impact, minimizing damage by instinct alone. His hands slap against the ground as he flows with the motion, muscles coiling—then releasing. With perfect timing, Geto performs a kip-up kick, his heel slamming into Kai mid-descent while Kai is still airborne from his previous strike.
Kai's perception flares.
He reacts just in time, raising his elbow to guard his face. The kick lands anyway.
He takes the impact head-on.
Boom..
The shockwave ripples outward, dust and loose debris erupting from the ground. Geto lands cleanly on his feet as the dust cloud swallows the battlefield.
When the dust begins to settle—
Kai is nowhere to be seen.
Geto's instincts scream.
Danger signals explode through his mind, every sense sharpening—but it's already too late.
He feels a palm press calmly against the back of his neck.
His body reacts before his thoughts do.
Geto realizes he's been forced into a kneeling position without even understanding when it happened, Kai standing directly behind him, presence overwhelming and suffocatingly close.
Kai:
"Gun to your head… name five OG phonk songs."
Geto:
"Shit… mhmm… murder on my mind and damn… I'm cooked."
Kai:
"Yeah, that's the end of the road for you."
Gojo:
"Nooo! Now we have to deal with the smugness of Mei Mei—we lost the bet."
Mei Mei:
"I expect my money in my account in one hour. Any later and I charge interest. My rates are high."
Gojo:
"Why do you even need so much money anyway?"
Mei Mei:
"Oh, Satoru… you wouldn't understand the struggles of Grade 1 sorcerers."
Shoko:
"Well… his eyes. I thought I felt something different through his gaze when he removed his blindfold."
Yaga:
"You noticed as well. It's like he's a different person when he's fighting now."
The training ground is left in ruins.
The earth is broken apart, cracked and torn open, chunks of stone and pulverized soil scattered in every direction. Deep grooves mark where slashes cut through space itself, and the air still hums faintly with residual cursed energy.
Only Geto and Kai remain standing at the center of it all as they walk toward the stands, the battlefield silent behind them.
Geto:
"You remember what you said about helping me get new curse spirits. I'm going to hold you to that."
Kai:
"Oh, of course. I can even help you get two Special Grade curse spirits. It'll be fun to team up together and get more experience."
Yaga:
"That would be good for you—to get hands-on experience with Geto there to watch over you."
Mei Mei:
"Can I join that little party? It would be entertaining to watch."
Kai:
"Yeah, no, it's all good. Just me and Geto are needed anyway. It's mostly training and an outing for me—nothing special, hehehe."
Inside Kai's mind, his thoughts rush frantically—anything to avoid spending time alone with Mei Mei at all costs.
Gojo:
"Hey, you—"
Gojo reaches out, trying to grab the collar of Kai's shirt—
—but Kai sidesteps smoothly, leaving Gojo's hand grasping nothing but empty air.
Gojo:
"Oh, you brat! If you think I didn't hear what you said, I'm itching to teach you a lesson."
Kai:
"You see, I haven't seen my mother all day, and you know how she gets soooo—wait, why is there an ice cream truck in the school grounds? Look over there."
Woosh..
Gojo:
"Hey! How would an ice cream truck get up the mountain and through Tengen's barrier anyway?"
When Gojo looks back—
Kai is gone.
Only the sound of Geto's laughter, Shoko's quiet amusement, and Mei Mei's light, elegant chuckles remain, leaving Gojo speechless after falling for the oldest trick in the book.
Geto:
"Oh, Satoru… he used your weakness for sweet things."
Gojo stares off into the distance, eyes wide, expression wounded.
Gojo:
"You know, it would've been fine if an ice cream truck was actually here. Now there's no ice cream, and all I have are sad dreams… no happiness, only the regrets of what could've been. That brat is too good. I'll get him when I get the chance—I can't let this slide."
Geto shakes his head as he walks off with Gojo, the two heading down the path toward town in search of ice cream, while Shoko and Mei Mei continue their conversation behind them.
Far from the training ground, near the edge of the school's grounds, stands a quiet house.
Inside, Ayaka stands beside an elderly man, surrounded by several men wearing masks.
Ayaka:
"Honey… these gentlemen are from the main family of the Kamo clan. I'm not sure you know, but the Kurai clan is—or was—a branch family of it."
No words are spoken.
But the faint glow behind Kai's blindfold—
the subtle tightening of cursed energy around him—
is more than enough to understand what he feels.
.
.
.
.
.
.
One Month Later
One month later, countless deaths have been prevented by the sole efforts of Geto and Kai.
Across cities, rural districts, and forgotten places where fear had quietly fermented, the two moved like shadows—appearing only long enough to erase what should never have existed. Grade 2 curses fell easily, Grade 1 curses fought back desperately, and many never even realized what ended them.
Entire apartment blocks were spared from massacres.
Train stations returned to silence instead of screams.
Shrines once abandoned were cleansed and reclaimed.
With each exorcism, Geto's arsenal grew heavier.
New curse spirits—violent, cunning, grotesque—were absorbed into his collection, each one sealed and tamed through experience and patience. Kai watched it all with quiet focus, adapting, learning, refining his movements and perception with every battle. Where Geto's strength was control and versatility, Kai's was precision and inevitability.
They had become efficient.
Too efficient.
Geto:
"There have been talks of a town with an abandoned mine, where an incident happened that had two hundred people sealed inside and die, and ever since then the company operating the mines—"
Geto pauses briefly as they walk, gravel crunching beneath their boots. The road ahead slopes downward toward a fog-covered valley, a small town barely visible through the haze. There's a weight in the air that doesn't belong to nature—something old, heavy, and unresolved.
Kai:
"Why do I get the feeling it's a Special Grade curse spirit we'll end up dealing with?"
Kai's voice is calm, but his eyes narrow slightly beneath the blindfold as his perception brushes against something distant and distorted. The wind carries a faint metallic scent—rust, earth, and something rotten beneath it.
Geto:
"Do you really think so? Well… it could be earth-related if it has a curse technique."
Geto adjusts the strap of his robes, his expression thoughtful. Mines were perfect breeding grounds for curses—darkness, death, betrayal, and prolonged suffering all pressed into the earth like a scar. If something had survived that long, feeding on memory and resentment, then it wouldn't be simple.
Kai:
"We should ask around the people in the town and get more information. See what we might learn."
Kai slows his steps slightly, tilting his head as if listening to something no one else can hear. His senses stretch outward, brushing rooftops, alleyways, and the hollow spaces beneath the ground.
Kai:
"Oh—and Geto, can you have your curse spirits keep constant watch of the surrounding area? I just get a weird feeling we're being watched."
Geto doesn't question it.
Without a word, shadows ripple at his feet as small, nearly invisible curse spirits slip away in every direction—perching on rooftops, clinging to walls, sinking into the soil itself. Their presence spreads like a silent net around the town.
.
.
.
.
.
In the distance, far beyond where normal eyes could follow, a figure watches.
Hidden among broken stone and dead trees on a nearby ridge, the masked figure observes Geto and Kai as they walk into the town below. His breathing is steady, controlled. In his hand, he adjusts an item—something unnatural, humming faintly with cursed energy.
It isn't a normal tool.
The surface is worn, etched with symbols that don't belong to modern jujutsu. Even from afar, its presence feels wrong—like a thorn pushed into reality.
He raises a hand to his ear.
Aoi:
"Clan head… so far it's all going exactly like you said it would for the last month since that day."
His gaze remains locked on Kai.
Aoi:
"I will inform you on how he deals with your surprise."
The wind howls briefly across the ridge, carrying his words away as the town below swallows the two sorcerers whole—unaware that the ground beneath their feet, and the eyes upon them, are already moving into place.
