On the ride back to school, everyone had changed back into their matching black uniforms.
Ieiri Shoko gave up the space in the front row and voluntarily took the middle seat in the back, sending Gojo Satoru to the front passenger seat instead.
Gojo Satoru had no idea that he had once again been quietly excluded. Cheerfully, he said, "Wow, Shoko, you're so considerate!"
The tallest boy sat backwards in the front passenger seat, openly eavesdropping on the conversation in the back. With plenty of room to stretch his long legs, he adopted a posture that flagrantly violated traffic regulations, prompting Yaga Masamichi to scold him several times in a row.
The three students in the back were chatting about school uniforms.
Ieiri Shoko asked, "Your white summer uniforms are already dirty, and now that the seasons are changing, what color should we choose for the autumn uniforms?"
Asou Akiya replied, "Black. It doesn't show dirt easily."
Getou Suguru answered gently and politely, "I'll follow the class color scheme. Black is nice—autumn sunlight won't heat it up as much."
Getou Suguru then tossed the topic back to Asou Akiya, who was gazing out the window at the passing scenery. "You've been staring outside this whole time. Are you really that reluctant to leave Kyoto Jujutsu High?"
Asou Akiya admitted frankly, "Yeah, I am."
Ieiri Shoko snickered. "Asou dragged me along to secretly carve something. Right near the Kyoto school gates, on the thickest tree there, we carved: '2005 Goodwill Event—Asou and Shoko were here.'"
Getou Suguru: "…You didn't take me with you?"
Gojo Satoru immediately started making a ruckus. "I want to carve something too! Yaga, hit the brakes right now!"
Yaga Masamichi: "..."
Asou Akiya said calmly, "Something that childish is fine if Shoko and I do it in secret. Besides, Shoko didn't compete and had to stay in the spectator seats, which was pretty boring. At the very least, she should be left with a one-of-a-kind memory."
Ieiri Shoko smiled as brightly as if she had just received a long-awaited gift and said, "Yaga-sensei, don't stop the car. Please keep driving."
Remembering how much Shoko had been through, Yaga Masamichi felt a twinge of sympathy for his student and stepped on the accelerator without hesitation.
Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru's attempted uprising was strangled at the very moment it began.
Outside the window, Kyoto Jujutsu High slowly receded into the distance, yet Asou Akiya's gaze seemed to linger on the exchange event that had ended only yesterday. The sensation of fighting peers of his own age was unforgettable—it's a rare, precious positive feedback. Clashing with Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru had been nothing short of courting humiliation, but trading blows with Kyoto's first-years and upperclassmen had been an invaluable form of tempering.
No wonder that after the thirtieth goodwill event in the original story, Itadori Yuji and Todo Aoi were able to become friends.
Opportunities for students of the two schools to meet were rare and fleeting.
Asou Akiya genuinely liked Jujutsu Kaisen's protagonist. Itadori Yuji possessed a sense of justice, decisiveness, kindness, and a willingness to sacrifice himself for others—qualities most people lacked. And yet, as a child, Itadori Yuji had seemed to be missing one thing: a true, inseparable friend.
A smile surfaced on Asou Akiya's face. If given the chance, what about sending Todo Aoi to study in Sendai?
What if a memory that never existed could become a real one?
The two of them would become close friends.
They would talk about girls together, chase each other through the streets, and gang up to deal with the school's petty delinquents.
Wasn't this exactly what someone who had crossed into an earlier point in the timeline—and had the power to change fate—ought to do?
Asou Akiya withdrew his gaze as the car entered an intersection. Yaga-sensei's driving was steady, completely devoid of any thrill-seeking tendencies, allowing the four students to enjoy the scenery and the gentle breeze brushing past them in the daylight.
Tokyo Jujutsu High came into view. Teachers and students who had claimed victory in the goodwill event returned in triumph, stepping once more onto the stairs at the school gate.
The campus was built deep within the mountains on the outskirts of Tokyo. On its official website, it was registered as a private religious academy, closed to public enrollment, with its exact location carefully withheld. Yet anyone who caught a glimpse of the school's full expanse would immediately understand what it meant to be both outrageously wealthy and impeccably low-key. There was no third institution like it in all of Japan. Fewer than ten students were enrolled, fewer than five teachers taught there, and the number of logistical and support staff exceeded that of the student sorcerers by more than double.
Temples, shrines, stone lanterns, dry landscape gardens—here were gathered the garden arts the Japanese loved most, along with scenery unique to Shinto tradition. The group walked up a long, sloping path, dense vegetation rising on both sides, the trees forming a canopy overhead. Straight ahead stood a timeworn wooden gate, austere and dignified, with the school's name carved into a wooden plaque on the left: Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical College.
Only a few more steps remained before they would enter the barrier surrounding Tokyo Jujutsu High and finally allow themselves to relax completely.
As they crossed the threshold of the school gate, Asou Akiya slowed and fell a step behind his classmates. He did nothing in particular—merely cast his gaze around at the lush trees encircling the grounds, his eyes seeming to peer from the present into the future, before casually remarking, "There are really a lot of trees."
[Within this year, I absolutely need to find a reason to cut down a few of them to improve campus safety.]
[Ten meters.]
[No—within twenty meters, there must be no obstruction to the line of sight.]
Asou Akiya stepped calmly into Tokyo Jujutsu High, safely entering the vast, invisible barrier that enveloped the campus.
Back in the dormitory, he set his suitcase down, let out a quiet sigh, and rummaged through his things until he found a transparent storage bag. He carefully placed the red cord he had once cherished inside. From now on, unless he left the school grounds, he would almost never carry it on his person again.
At the Tomb of the Star Corridor, Tengen's gaze reached across space.
"The Six Eyes" have returned.
The Cursed pirit Manipulator's strength has advanced another step, his body carrying the lingering cursed residue of a special-grade curse spirit.
The fourth "Jade" has shown a faint increase in power, reaching the level of a third-grade sorcerer and currently nurturing a first-grade cursed tool. The sword-shaped cursed tool bore the brand of the Gojo family; it was likely a weapon the Six Eyes had borrowed from home to lend to a fellow student.
Tengen regarded these young sorcerers with a gaze full of quiet benevolence.
At times, when the three of them quarreled, Tengen would idly wonder how long it would take before they reconciled again. Amused, Tengen would even make a private wager with themself—if the guess was right, a faint smile would surface; if wrong, then it was back to overtime work, reinforcing the foundations of the barrier techniques.
By late September, news of Gojo Satoru defeating a special-grade cursed spirit had spread beyond the inner circles.
On a certain secret website, curses and insults flooded the pages.
Curse users, those rats living in the gutters, considered their own survival harsh and their means of making money painfully limited. They had spent fifteen years deliberately treating the "Six Eyes," who had long topped the dark web bounty rankings of the jujutsu world, as though he did not exist at all—as if they could somehow ignore a bounty counted in the hundreds of millions.
No matter how high the reward, it was meaningless if you did not live long enough to claim it.
Curse users maintained closer ties with Kyoto, and once they learned that Gojo Satoru had gone there as a first-year student of Tokyo Jujutsu High to participate in the goodwill event, they despairingly designated Tokyo as a danger zone for the next five years of their lives. They cursed and swore, wondering why the "Six Eyes" did not just stay hidden within the Gojo household, living in seclusion, instead of changing locations and running around causing trouble everywhere.
That bastard truly killed curse users without mercy, without the slightest hesitation!
As the natural enemy of curse users, nothing surpassed him. No one knew how many curse users had their courage shattered the instant they glimpsed the "Six Eyes" from afar.
That gaze… was utterly inhuman.
Whenever intermediaries among curse users obtained critical information, they would relay it to their own people at once. When Kong Shiyu—a Korean-Japanese man dressed in a perfectly tailored bespoke suit—arrived with such news, the so-called "Sorcerer Killer," Zenin Toji, was holed up in a safehouse. He sat in front of the television watching a match, holding a bowl of instant noodles, not bothering to cozy up to any rich woman, and the toddler who was usually by his side—barely two years old—was nowhere to be seen.
Kong Shiyu had not originally planned to contact Zenin Toji outside of an active job, but this damn guy had grown addicted to living off others lately, sinking into a worrying level of lethargy. Kong could not help but suspect that his skills had dulled; the sharp, predatory aura he once had years ago was noticeably diminished.
When Zenin Toji heard that the Gojo family's young master had gone off to attend school, he let out a derisive snort. "That kid really knows how to play around."
Kong Shiyu was uninterested in that detail. "Zenin," he said calmly, "you should stop going to the Tokyo horse-racing tracks so often."
Zenin Toji possessed the unmistakable green eyes of the Zenin family's main line—cold as a lone wolf's, brimming with wildness. He kept his head lowered as he ate his noodles, replying vaguely, "I've found that Tokyo is a lucky place. I drop by once in a while."
Kong Shiyu frowned slightly. "What do you mean by that?"
Zenin Toji's interest was clearly piqued now. He spoke with animation, almost cheerfully. "Every time I go to Tokyo, I run into one or two strokes of good fortune. Last time, I even made some pocket money playing pachinko. From now on, whenever I'm short on cash, I'll just go to Tokyo and play pachinko."
As if that were not convincing enough, Zenin Toji added another example. "There are also more chances to get taken in by a rich woman."
Kong Shiyu, well aware of this man's uncanny gambling luck, clicked his tongue. "Tokyo already has plenty of wealthy people. With your face, you can always fool a few women who don't know who you really are and coast along on a comfortable life for a while."
Zenin Toji casually switched channels with the remote control, his tone utterly nonchalant. "I'm currently scouting for an outstanding rich woman. Any recommendations?"
Kong Shiyu sneered at him. "I'm not a pimp from a host club."
Zenin Toji replied calmly, "There's a kid at home who needs someone to look after him. He's already learned how to lose his temper at me."
Kong Shiyu froze for a moment, instinctively reaching for a cigarette before remembering he was in someone else's house. Zenin Toji tossed him a lighter and said indifferently, "If you want to smoke, then smoke. There's no exhaust I haven't breathed in before."
Zenin Toji's outward appearance was mature, his expression perpetually cold, and it often made Kong Shiyu forget the years this man had spent crawling through the mud and blood.
The first legitimate heir to successfully break free from the most feudal and ancient of the Three Great Clans of the jujutsu world.
He had even heard that before leaving, Zenin Toji had beaten the Zenin family to a pulp.
Zenin Toji had left home while he was still a boy, penniless and destitute, drifting onto the streets. He had wanted to survive by taking odd jobs, to put as much distance as possible between himself and the jujutsu world, yet he had no academic credentials, no Japanese health insurance, no practical skills of any kind—nothing at all except a body so terrifyingly strong that it bordered on the absurd.
Before meeting Kong Shiyu, Zenin Toji had not yet entered the profession of assassination; at best, he had merely managed to cling to life, scraping by in a state of miserable survival.
He was like a lone wolf that had strayed from the pack—its body riddled with wounds, never truly able to leave the land of its birth, forever circling the outskirts of that place.
Kong Shiyu thought to himself that he truly had not expected this man to fall in love with the "profession" of living off others, nor that he would become remarkably well-known within the circle of wealthy women.
What he had expected even less…
Was that this man had actually gotten married and had a child three years ago, withdrawing from the world for a period of time for the sake of his family.
"Zenin."
"Say it quickly," Zenin Toji replied impatiently. "I'm not full yet. Remember to order me some takeout."
"..."
Kong Shiyu stubbed out his cigarette and decided not to tell him that the bounty on "Six Eyes" had gone up yet again.
That brat had not been paying attention to the combat records of "Six Eyes" for just a day or two.
Curse users were no different in that regard.
Driven by some inexplicable impulse, Kong Shiyu asked, "Back then, why didn't the Zenin family have you deal with 'Six Eyes'?"
Zenin Toji let out a mocking laugh. "They looked down on me."
Many years ago, at a gathering of the Three Great Clans, he had once stood not far from "Six Eyes," quietly observing that prodigy of the jujutsu world. As long as he was willing to conceal his presence, no one had ever been able to notice him standing behind them.
Until the moment the white-haired child turned around and looked straight at him.
The last shred of his ignoble pride collapsed entirely. No one could ever discover him? No—only a genius could.
In the end, he fled in disgrace from the Zenin household, escaping the territory of the Three Great Clans altogether.
Zenin Toji sprawled back on the sofa, arms flung wide, legs crossed, speaking in a tone of utter resignation as though he had given up on everything. "I don't hate 'Six Eyes,' and I'm not interested in his bounty either. He's just a white-haired brat who was born standing far above everyone else."
And yet, Zenin Toji hated the way Gojo Satoru looked at him.
Beneath the gaze of the "Six Eyes"—
It was as though all beings were equal. In that boy's eyes, he was equal to jujutsu sorcerers, equal to flowers, grass, and trees.
…
In order to check and balance Gojo Satoru, the higher-ups placed Geto Suguru on the watch list for promotion to "Special Grade Sorcerer."
After reading the latest intelligence report on Geto Suguru, Kenjaku fell into thought. "I didn't expect 'Six Eyes' to help you subdue a cursed spirit."
Neither entirely good news nor entirely bad.
Had the proud, heaven-favored prodigy begun to regard a curse manipulator of common birth in a different light?
Kenjaku had already assessed the respective strengths of Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru. If the two were to fight separately, neither of them alone would quite manage to break the domain expansion of "Kokkuri-san" before sunset. Moreover, Geto Suguru had killed before; his psyche was in a state of flux, making him vulnerable to having the cracks in his heart provoked by "Kokkuri-san's" domain expansion. There was even the possibility that he would be seen by Gojo Satoru as a hindrance, dragging him down.
Now, with the higher-ups' counterattack having failed, they were paying increasing attention to the cultivation of curse manipulators. Without any need for "her" to remind them, the higher-ups had internally drawn up a detailed plan for nurturing a future Special Grade Sorcerer.
The very highest tier of cursed spirits across the entire jujutsu world had all become prey reserved for curse manipulators.
Kenjaku applauded this development, laughing softly. "Congratulations, Geto. You're only fifteen years old, and already just one step away from becoming a Special Grade Sorcerer."
It still wasn't enough.
He needed to be pushed harder, to raise his cursed technique to a higher level.
Otherwise, if he were to end up as nothing more than a corpse, then all the potential a jujutsu sorcerer possessed would be irrevocably sealed away.
—
Author's Note:
I've gone back to revise the earlier chapters. At present, Megumi is two years old, and Zenin Toji should not yet have married into another family.
In the original canon's Hidden Inventory arc, when Kong Shiyu chatted with Toji, he still addressed him as "Zenin." It was only later, after learning that Toji had married into another family, that he changed the way he addressed him to "Fushiguro."
In my view, this year he is still Zenin Toji—next year is when he becomes Fushiguro Toji.