A sweltering summer day. The air hung heavy, saturated with a stifling humidity that seemed to pool in the lungs.
Outside, the world was a furnace, but inside the luxury apartment, the air was crisp and cool.
"Everyone, Master's birthday is fast approaching."
Koyanskaya of Light, manifested in her Assassin-class aspect, spoke with a solemn gravity that demanded attention.
The other Servants gathered around the table mirrored her seriousness. The weight of the atmosphere was palpable.
I sat in the middle of them, maintaining a prudent silence.
It was an absurd situation, yet a pleasant sense of tension tickled my chest, threatening to break into a grin.
My birthday.
The year marking two decades since my rebirth into this world had finally arrived.
"The question of who will take the Master's virginity—this long-deferred issue—must finally be resolved. It is time for a definitive answer."
That was the crux of it.
The moment everyone had been bracing for was here. The air hummed with a specific brand of anticipation.
This was the moment every single soul in this room, including myself, had been yearning for. It was only natural for expectations to reach a boiling point.
As the others nodded in grim agreement, Assassin continued.
"Since any direct selection would inevitably lead to dissatisfaction and conflict, I propose we leave it to pure, unadulterated luck. I assume no one objects to this?"
Assassin reached into the plunging neckline of her outfit, her fingers disappearing between her breasts before withdrawing a small roulette wheel.
...It actually fits in there? I wondered, momentarily distracted.
"Our six names are inscribed upon this wheel. There are no Magecraft-based enchantments; it is a mundane device. Every segment is mathematically identical in size."
I studied the roulette and nodded. To the naked eye, the divisions were perfect.
I couldn't detect any magical tampering, though that wasn't saying much given the levels of these Heroic Spirits.
However, seeing as none of the other Servants raised an objection, the device seemed legitimate.
"Hmm… the Master's first time is the ultimate vintage, so to speak. It's a bit of a shame to leave it to chance," Shuten-douji murmured, licking her lips in a predatory fashion.
"Guiding him through the map of the night is a mother's natural duty… but I suppose it cannot be helped. For the sake of a harmonious household, I shall yield to the goddess of fortune," Minamoto-no-Raiko added, her voice thick with regret.
Ibuki-douji and Ushi-gozen shared similar sentiments, their gazes lingering on me with undisguised hunger.
In contrast, Koyanskaya of Darkness—the Foreigner—remained relatively stoic.
Or rather, she possessed enough composure to pretend she was unbothered.
"Now. Let the spinning begin."
Assassin placed the roulette on the glass table and gave it a sharp flick.
Whirrr.
Every pair of eyes in the room locked onto the blurring disc. The air crackled with a conceptual pressure that made the glass tabletop groan.
Whose name would the needle claim? The suspense was agonizing.
I felt my heart hammering against my ribs. It was a suffocating sensation, one that brought back flashes of the most perilous moments of my journey—memories of Goetia, ORT, and the literal end of worlds.
Finally, the rotation slowed. The needle clicked over the pegs one last time and came to a rest.
—Koyanskaya of Light.
Assassin was the winner.
"Ah…!"
"Is this a joke? Even if there's no Magecraft, surely there was some physical trickery involved?"
Raiko and Shuten spoke simultaneously. For two beings who despised each other, their synchronization was impeccable.
"I sensed no such trickery," Ushi-gozen stated flatly.
"I agree. It was purely a matter of luck. Let us accept the result and move on," Ibuki-douji added calmly.
The contrast between the two pairs was jarring, despite them being facets of the same origins.
"I had a feeling this might happen… but so be it. There truly was no foul play," the Foreigner conceded, though a trace of disappointment flickered in her eyes.
It went exactly as I expected.
Assassin, huh?
I would have been happy with any of them, but now that a winner had been declared, I found my eyes drawn to her. I noticed the way her cheongsam seemed ready to burst under the pressure of her chest, and how her smooth, voluminous thighs seemed to command the very space around them.
"My, Master. It's a bit troublesome when you broadcast your lust so openly ♡," Assassin teased, a coy smile dancing on her lips.
She had caught me staring. There was no hiding it.
"Ah, sorry. Was that unpleasant?"
"On the contrary. It's only troublesome because you're making me feel rather heated myself. Since we have our answer, perhaps you'd like an early taste?"
Assassin gave her skirt a provocative sway. The invitation was clear.
Right now?
While I hesitated, the other Servants turned their collective gaze toward us. The room filled with a thick cloud of jealousy and complicated emotions.
The heavy mood was broken by the sound of the front door opening.
The sisters were home.
"It seems the rest of the household has returned. Let's conclude this discussion for now. The matter is settled," Foreigner said with a sigh, tying a neat knot on the conversation.
No one disagreed.
"We're back."
"I'm home."
Zenin Maki and Zenin Mai bowed their heads the moment they crossed the threshold, a habit born of years of ingrained etiquette.
"Uh… why is the air so heavy? Did we come at a bad time?" Maki asked, her expression turning wary.
She was clutching several heavy-looking plastic bags, her discomfort matching the weight of the groceries.
"Was our timing poor?" Mai added, her eyes darting nervously around the room.
I felt a twinge of guilt. They shouldn't have to walk on eggshells in their own home.
"Not at all. I'm actually glad you're back," I said, stepping toward them and reaching for the bags.
I meant it. Their arrival had successfully defused the competitive tension between the Servants, allowing a forced but necessary peace to settle over the apartment.
"Ah… thanks," Maki muttered, a light blush creeping onto her cheeks as our hands brushed while I took the bags.
Now that I think about it, she hasn't even hit puberty yet.
Between the bitter hardships they had endured and the unique educational environment they were in now, it was no wonder their development felt slightly accelerated—or perhaps bypassed altogether in some ways.
I looked at the sisters and smiled. Even in the original Jujutsu Kaisen timeline, they had been well-developed, but here, the change was even more pronounced. They had bodies that looked almost exaggerated, as if drawn by a particularly indulgent illustrator.
"Was it heavy?"
"Not really. This much is nothing," Maki replied, dismissively dusting off her hands.
It wasn't bravado. I knew she meant it.
For years now, I had been quietly observing them while they slept. My research was finally beginning to yield results.
In order for them to become 'complete' beings, I had to break the metaphysical law that bound them as the same existence. To achieve that, I needed to manipulate the very structure of their souls.
The technical explanation—derived from the manipulation of a Servant's Saint Graph—was something they wouldn't fully understand even if I explained it. But the gist was clear: I had spent years meticulously crafting a Magecraft formula in secret.
I used Magecraft to ensure they slept soundly, so even their superhuman senses couldn't detect my presence during my research sessions.
The only ones involved in this project were the two Koyanskayas and Ibuki-douji. Shuten, Raiko, and Ushi-gozen were excluded simply because their skill sets were skewed entirely toward combat. They lacked the utility required for such delicate work.
"You worked hard today. Let's get some food going," I said, heading to the kitchen with the groceries.
As they grew older, Maki and Mai were spending more time apart. Maki was constantly consumed by her grueling training, and now that Mai was entering middle school, she had her own new routines to attend to.
"Haa—"
Deep in the mountains of Adachi Ward, in a place devoid of any human presence, Mai fought to catch her breath.
The day's objective: mountain traversal and marksmanship. It involved navigating steep inclines at high speeds while neutralizing targets.
Her weapon was a pink handgun. Although she had a sniper rifle available, she wasn't using it here; the purpose of this particular drill was entirely different.
It's so hard…
Truthfully, Mai had no innate interest in such training. Unlike Maki, she didn't harbor a burning desire to become strong. All she ever wanted was to be loved.
Despite that, she had endured this hell for years for two reasons: because it was mandated, and to avoid the nightmare-like fate she occasionally saw in her dreams.
"One to the thigh. Two to the navel. And one to the collarbone. Respectable," a voice called out from the shade of a nearby tree.
Assassin Koyanskaya stepped out, approaching Mai.
"Thank… phew! Thank you."
Mai met her gaze while trying to steady her breathing. Assassin was her primary instructor and, undeniably, the person she found most difficult to deal with.
Even after living under the same roof for nearly a decade, no bond of affection had formed. It wasn't hatred; it was primal fear. Mai could instinctively feel that these two women were fundamentally different from the other Servants.
Her intuition was correct. Neither version of Koyanskaya gave their hearts easily. However, they were never abusive; in fact, they were always punctiliously polite.
Assassin smiled, brushing off a few specks of dust from her dress where Mai's rubber training bullets had impacted.
"That you have grown this much fueled by nothing but a sense of duty is quite encouraging. I believe we can increase your level again."
"What? Again… already?" Despair clouded Mai's eyes. It felt as though every time she made progress, the goalposts for her personal hell were moved further back.
"You intend to follow Maki and become a Jujutsu Sorcerer, do you not? You know better than anyone that strength is the only true guarantee of safety."
"I mean… that's true."
"Then keep learning until you enroll at Tokyo Jujutsu High. Your admission is effectively guaranteed at this point, isn't it?"
"Yes, Ms. Koyanskaya," Mai replied with a heavy sigh.
The Master—the man the Servants called Kadoc—had respected the girls' wishes. Using his influence, he had paved the way for their entrance into Tokyo High. He had made the recommendation, Gojo and Geto had accepted it, and Yaga Masamichi had given the final approval.
As the current Principal of Tokyo Jujutsu High, Yaga held the authority over student enrollment.
Assassin crossed her arms, looking down at Mai. It was a fascinating process to witness.
"Master has honored your intentions, so do not disappoint him by getting yourself injured needlessly."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Good. We're heading back now, so climb on. You're too exhausted to descend the mountain on your own feet."
"Wait, but I'm covered in sweat—"
"It's not as if I haven't dealt with your sweat for years. It doesn't bother me, so don't worry about it."
With a sigh, Assassin hoisted Mai onto her back. A bit of moisture mattered little to her. She took off, sprinting down the mountainside at a pace that felt more like a controlled fall than a run.
The effort we put into her development was well worth it, Assassin thought, a smirk playing on her lips as she felt Mai against her back.
The weight, the softness, the resilience—everything was maturing perfectly. Some might say her growth was becoming excessive, but Assassin knew better. This was exactly to the Master's taste.
The firm thighs wrapped around her waist and the curve of the girl's hips were flawless. It was a body tailor-made for Kadoc to enjoy—the perfect tribute to offer her Master.
And since the sisters themselves harbored feelings for him, there wouldn't even be a need for coercion.
Once she reaches adulthood…
Whoosh!
The violent wind whipped against Mai's face, forcing her to screw her eyes shut. The sheer velocity was something she could never quite get used to, no matter how many times they did this.
"By the way, make sure you take a shower and wait today. I have something to say to you."
"What?! Ah, okay! I understand!" Mai managed to shout back. The roar of the wind almost drowned out Assassin's voice. The thought of missing a directive from the Servant was too terrifying to contemplate.
Ugh…
Mai shuddered inwardly. Between the relief of surviving another day and the anxiety of what was to come, she felt as if she were hovering between heaven and hell.
Meanwhile.
From a vast distance, someone watched Assassin's descent with a weary sigh. They had been keeping a constant vigil over the Master and his entourage for years now.
"Mahito. Just how much longer do you intend to just watch?"
Next to the observer, another figure materialized. The speaker used a dignified, archaic tone of voice—the kind one might hear in a historical drama.
The newcomer stood beside the one holding the high-powered scope and sighed. Observe, observe, and observe again. They had been stuck in this scouting phase for years. By some counts, it was nearing a full decade.
It was utterly ridiculous.
"Come on, Jogo. Don't be so impatient. We need to handle this calmly," the figure with the scope replied with a chuckle.
This soul had been born into the world earlier than originally intended—either through a fluke of fate or some dark necessity. He manifested as a male whose body was covered in stitched seams, resembling a patchwork of human flesh.
Beside him stood another humanoid being, perfectly normal save for a single eye and a head shaped like a volcanic vent.
The patchwork man was Mahito. The volcano-head was Jogo.
Both were Special Grade Cursed Spirits, entities of immense power.
"There is a limit to being 'calm.' You have spent years doing nothing but watching!"
"But there are no openings, Jogo. Poking that hornet's nest would be suicide. Trying to whittle down their forces isn't exactly easy, is it?"
"Hmph!"
Jogo huffed and turned his head away. He couldn't refute the unpleasant truth.
"The Master's soul density is abnormal, yet he possesses no Cursed Energy. Despite that, his perception is monstrously vast. Staying as far away as possible and testing the waters is our best bet."
"Like what you said before?"
"Yeah. He's the center of all those women. Twisting that white-haired man is the only viable path. There isn't any other way."
Mahito grunted as he stretched his limbs, looking remarkably relaxed.
"Jogo, if it comes down to it, let's just stay hidden for a hundred years. Time is on our side, after all."
"Pathetic," Jogo muttered, though without any real bite. Special Grade Curses didn't die of old age. As long as human fear of the earth and disaster remained, they would never fade. Biding their time was a logically sound strategy, however frustrating it might be.
"Right? After all, that white-haired human isn't our only enemy."
"True."
Jogo nodded in grudging agreement. It was another point he couldn't deny.
"He's the most dangerous variable, though. So we'll keep looking for an opening. You just focus on resting for now, 'Teach.'"
"Watch your tone. And how many times have I told you to stop making puns with my name?"
"Got it, thanks. Shall we call it a day?"
"Don't ignore me!"
As Mahito stood up, Jogo let out another deep sigh. For now, there was nothing to do but retreat and wait.
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