Yuzaki's body locked up. He turned his head, joints creaking like rusted gears.
Outside the open door stood a woman.
Around forty, she resembled him—yet didn't.
The similarity ended at black hair, black eyes, and the gentle curve of their brows that made them look harmless.
The difference lay in the features behind that softness.
Yuzaki's gentleness was a habit, a sheath for a blade he kept hidden.
The woman's gentleness ran bone-deep, the legendary yamato nadeshiko in living form.
Yet this same woman turned Yuzaki into a mouse before a cat. "Wh-why are you here?"
"Your son sneaks out at night; can't a mother check on him?" She was his mother, Tsubaki Mei. More specifically, Step-Mother.
"Of course you can."
He nodded frantically and stole a glance at Gardevoir.
The Pokémon who had been facing him was now kneeling demurely at his side, back straight, hands on thighs—an A-plus student caught slacking.
With her psychic senses, Gardevoir had known someone was outside, but it was Yuzaki's mother, the second-most familiar human in her life, someone who would never harm him—so she'd lowered her guard.
Yuzaki realized the same thing and vowed to ask Gardevoir where Mom was hiding next time, to avoid another ambush.
He had secrets—plenty of them—and no desire to share, not even with the mother he'd relied on for eight years.
He tested the waters. "Mom… how much do you know?"
"Everything. That you slip out at night. That Cursed Spirits roam the village. That you deliberately leave a 'spark' instead of exorcising them completely."
Tsubaki slid the door shut, knelt on the tatami, and motioned for him to sit.
Since she'd chosen this moment to gank her son, she wouldn't hide the rest.
"Don't forget, I married into the Kamo clan; my jujutsu credentials aren't bad. The man who sent us here also intended me to keep the area clean of Cursed Spirits."
Yuzaki let out a dry laugh. "As expected of the Big Three head family—no loose ends."
Tsubaki's eyelid twitched. She swallowed whatever she'd been about to say and asked instead, "You mentioned 'laying your cards on the table.' What cards?"
"Moving. This place is remote and dying. All the young people leave, the old ones die or relocate; soon it'll be a ghost town. No people, no Cursed Spirits. Once the last ones are gone, there's no reason to stay. The weather's nice lately—perfect for—"
He trailed off; Tsubaki's expression had hardened with every word.
"That is your father's decision—the Kamo head's decision. Have you considered the consequences of defying him?"
"I have. Odds are he doesn't care. The five-year agreement expired three years ago; the watchers stopped coming. Even if he knows, he'll probably look the other way. Eight years is long enough for buried things to stay buried."
"And if the Kamo clan does act?"
The Kamo—one of Japan's oldest jujutsu families, deep-rooted and powerful.
"Doesn't matter. I'm not the kid I was. Even if my cheap dad shows up, so what? With Gardevoir, anything short of Special Grade isn't a problem."
The softness vanished from Yuzaki's face, replaced by an edge Tsubaki had never seen—sixteen years of hidden steel showing its first gleam.
Sensing her trainer's resolve, Gardevoir voiced a different cry from before.
"Sha—" almost "Kill!"
Her trainer's emotions were her joy; loyalty was her creed. One command and she would become the sharpest blade, the sturdiest shield.
Eight years of teamwork needed no words. Kneeling motionless, she released invisible power—her signature technique and every Psychic-type's pride: Confusion.
Psychic force wrapped the room. Desks, computer, bed, bookshelf—everything floated.
"What—?"
Tsubaki's pupils shrank as Yuzaki said, "Mom, excuse the rudeness."
The psychic grip seized her, too, lifting her into the air.
She flailed, channeling Cursed Energy, but neither muscle nor technique could break Gardevoir's hold.
"This is the tip of the iceberg. If you want, we'll fly outside and let her cut loose."
"No need. The ground and plants did nothing wrong."
Tsubaki wasn't a powerhouse, but she'd fought on the front lines in her youth. She'd seen Grade 1 and Semi-Grade 1 Cursed Spirits, and none had felt this overwhelming.
No wonder her son was confident.
At her shake of the head, Yuzaki signaled Gardevoir; everything settled gently back in place, the psychic field vanishing.
"Mom, trust me—I can protect you."
"I believe you."
Pride, sorrow, and unease mingled in her eyes.
"Yuzaki, tell me honestly: have you ever thought of returning to the Kamo clan, of reclaiming what you lost, of becoming Kamo Noritoshi again?"
"No." The answer was instant. "The day we left, that name died for us."
"Then… do you still hate them? Do you want revenge?"
Her gaze bored into his, trying to read the heart behind the window.
"I won't lie—I hate them a little. But revenge? No. The child you care about most is still there, and he'll be a clan head one day. My blood parents are there too; before that incident, they treated me well. Cutting ties was my choice. If the Kamo leave us alone, I'll do the same."
"You're also the child most precious to me."
"I know."
Just as Tsubaki trusted he wasn't lying, Yuzaki trusted her—eight years together weren't fake, and Gardevoir's sense for human hearts was never wrong.
"But Mom, those words will hurt you one day."
"Why?"
"Do you remember what (new) Noritoshi said when you left? Someday, I'll come for you."
The words made her eyes cloud. A memory surfaced:
Fallen leaves, a long slope, a boy the same age as Yuzaki was now, eyes red, tugging her sleeve.
"Why? Why do you have to leave?"
Tears streaming, she'd knelt and hugged her son one last time.
"My staying would only hold Noritoshi back."
At the last moment, she'd heard the hoarse, determined reply:
"I'll get stronger. Someday I'll bring you home—wait for me."
To reassure him, she'd nodded, then walked away without looking back, suitcase rolling behind her past the ancient gate.
Outside stood another child, expressionless, a puppet waiting for strings.
She'd looked at him, anger and pity warring on her face, then took his hand.
"From now on, we live together."
The boy—Yuzaki—had simply nodded. Together, they left the thousand-year-old clan that had erased their names.
Exiled, they'd taken the surname Mei instead of Kamo, every trace scrubbed clean.
The memory faded. Tsubaki sighed. "That was long ago. Noriki was just a child."
"Children remember, Mom. Some things, once etched, last a lifetime. Don't underestimate them."
"I never have—neither him nor you."
One thing she'd never forgotten:
Her disownment had been certain, but the boy—then Kamo Noritsuna—could have stayed, merely stripped of heir status.
His departure had been his demand to the clan head and official wife.
"Since my existence shames you, letting me leave forever is best."
"Even if you claim I'm not the heir, servants talk. Why suffer embarrassment?"
"Aunt Tsubaki lost a son; give her one back. I like Aunt Tsubaki."
"Without the clan technique, I gain nothing here—please release me."
She'd stood outside the door, listening.
For an instant, the eight-year-old had sounded older, colder, more rational than she was.
She hadn't known she was right: the small body held an adult soul.
Yes—former Kamo Noritoshi, now Yuzaki Mei, hid the ultimate secret: he was a transmigrator who knew this world better than any native, the world called in his past life Jujutsu Kaisen.
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