Ren arrived at the Gojo estate under heavy rain.
The car passed through layers of barriers so old they no longer felt like spells but like laws of nature. Each one peeled something away—sound, distance, intention—until the outside world felt unreal. By the time the gates closed behind them, Ren had stopped resisting. He sat still, small hands clenched in his lap, eyes hollow and dry.
The estate hadn't changed since Shizuka was a child. Long corridors of polished wood, paper walls that muted sound, gardens maintained with ritual precision. It felt too safe.
Shizuka's father stood waiting in the inner hall.
His name was Masayuki Gojo, and age had done nothing to soften him. He was tall, straight-backed, his hair white not from age alone but from years of cursed energy strain. His eyes—hidden behind thin-lensed glasses—missed nothing. He wore traditional robes, unadorned, the mark of someone who did not need to display authority to command it.
When he looked at Ren, something in his expression shifted.
Recognition.
"So," Masayuki said quietly, "this is her son."
Four elders sat behind him, arranged in a half-circle. Each one radiated power differently—one sharp and suffocating, one heavy and slow, one cold and precise, one nearly invisible until you focused on them. All of them were watching Ren with unsettling intensity.
Ren did not bow. He stared back.
One of the elders inhaled sharply. "Those eyes…"
Masayuki raised a hand, silencing them. He crouched slowly until he was at Ren's level.
"You're Ren," he said. Not a question.
Ren nodded once.
Masayuki removed his glasses.
The room seemed to tighten.
Ren felt it immediately—a pressure not unlike his own, but older, deeper. For a brief moment, their gazes locked.
Then Masayuki exhaled.
"…Six Eyes," he murmured.
The elders leaned forward.
One spoke, voice edged with disbelief. "Impossible! The Six Eyes manifested once in a generation. Satoru Gojo held them fifty years ago."
"And yet," Masayuki said, standing, "they're here again."
He turned to the elders. "Explain it to him."
One elder adjusted his posture. "The Six Eyes are not merely vision. They are perception perfected. The ability to see cursed energy down to its most fundamental structure—flow, density, inefficiency. With them, cursed techniques become mathematical truths rather than guesses."
Another continued, "They reduce cursed energy consumption to near zero. Every action is optimal. Every movement precise."
The third frowned. "They make their bearer… dangerous."
Masayuki looked back at Ren. "They also make you a target."
Ren said nothing.
"But," one elder added slowly, "that is not all."
Masayuki's gaze sharpened. "Yes. That's the problem."
He turned fully to the council. "The boy's cursed energy is not pure."
Silence.
"Not corrupted," Masayuki clarified. "Not tainted. It's…Fused. There is another energy woven into it."
One elder's voice dropped. "Unknown?"
Masayuki nodded. "Unknown."
The elders exchanged glances. One whispered, "Like a second core."
Ren felt their words more than he understood them. All he knew was that the pressure inside him—the thing that had scared curses away—had always felt… layered.
Masayuki straightened. "I will take responsibility for him."
The elders turned to him in shock.
"You will train him yourself?" one demanded.
"Yes."
"And if he refuses?"
Masayuki's jaw tightened. "Then I will still protect him."
The room fell silent.
Masayuki turned back to Ren. "You don't have to become a sorcerer," he said evenly. "But you will learn control. Whether you like it or not."
Ren met his gaze.
"I don't want to be like you," he said quietly.
Masayuki did not flinch. "Good."
Ren's POV(Nine Years Later)
Yeah. So, Funny story.
Turns out being raised by the strongest clan in Japan is great if you like isolation, expectations, and people whispering behind paper walls.
I didn't.
By seventeen, I'd learned everything they could force into my head—control, restraint, theory, blah blah blah… why my eyes were a national treasure and my existence a liability.
And I hated all of it.
So I left.
I Just left a letter on Masayuki's desk and me walking through the barriers like I owned them. Which, to be fair, I kind of did.
Kuoh Town was quiet. Normal. Blissfully unaware of curses chewing on the edges of reality. Kuoh Academy accepted me as a second-year transfer student without much fuss. Paperwork slid into place like the world wanted me there.
I rented a small dorm-style apartment nearby. Nothing fancy. Two bedroom, compact kitchen, bathroom with a decent shower.
People here didn't know what the Six Eyes were. Didn't care. They saw me as a tall guy with messy black hair, round sunglasses, and an attitude problem.
Perfect.
I unpacked slowly, tossed my clothes into drawers, stretched out on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
No clan.
No orders.
"Ahh… That's nice…" I muttered.
...
The shower steamed up the bathroom quickly.
Ren stood beneath the hot water, head tilted forward, letting it run through his hair and down his back. His body was lean and well-defined, built through years of training he pretended not to care about. Long limbs, broad shoulders, skin marked with faint scars—old reminders of techniques gone wrong and lessons learned the hard way.
The Six Eyes glimmered faintly beneath closed lids.
When he stepped out, water dripping from his hair, he caught his reflection in the mirror.
Tall. Calm. Detached.
Someone who looked like he belonged anywhere and nowhere at once.
He dried off, wrapped a towel around his waist, and stepped into the main room.
That was when he heard it.
The soft click of the apartment door opening.
Then closing.
Ren froze.