Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu Technical College.
Nestled deep in the mountains on the outskirts of Tokyo, the ancient cluster of buildings was wrapped in layer upon layer of barrier seals. From the outside, it looked like nothing more than an ordinary abandoned shrine. But within those barriers, this was the central educational institution of Japan's entire jujutsu world — the highest academy for the training of jujutsu sorcerers.
At this moment, a man's figure was moving swiftly down the corridor.
White hair. A blindfold. A lean, tall frame. The black uniform of Jujutsu High.
— Satoru Gojo. The undisputed strongest sorcerer of the modern jujutsu world. Wielder of the Six Eyes and the Limitless technique. A man who stood at the very apex of the jujutsu world.
Because he was the strongest, he was almost always smiling. No matter what came his way, he could meet it with that lazy, devil-may-care grin — and then simply steamroll it with raw power.
But not right now.
Right now, he wasn't smiling.
"Megumi was attacked — and it's serious?"
Ijichi, walking at his side, flipped through the report in his hands and answered with an expression that was somehow both troubled and deeply conflicted: "Well… yes, Gojo-san. Megumi's situation is, in a certain sense, indeed quite serious. But as for exactly how serious… that's actually rather difficult to say."
"What do you mean?"
"It's just… the main issue is that it can't be treated with Reverse Cursed Technique."
Satoru Gojo's brow furrowed.
Reverse Cursed Technique was the most fundamental healing tool in the jujutsu world. By inverting the output of cursed energy, it could repair physical damage — broken bones, lacerations, ruptured organs. As long as the person wasn't already dead, Reverse Cursed Technique could theoretically fix it. It was one of the most vital lifelines a sorcerer had in combat.
Can't be treated with Reverse Cursed Technique?
What kind of injury couldn't be treated with Reverse Cursed Technique?
Ninety-nine percent of all damage in this world could be addressed by it. The exceptions, in Gojo's experience, were things like congenital defects, or Heavenly Restrictions — in short, phenomena so rare they bordered on absurd.
Had whatever hit Megumi left him with a Heavenly Restriction in a single blow?
That was impossible. Wasn't it.
Though there were other possibilities — for instance, if Megumi had been struck by some kind of curse that dealt continuous damage, Reverse Cursed Technique couldn't achieve a full recovery either. You'd heal him one second, and the curse would wound him again the next.
Either way, the current situation was deeply abnormal.
Something he'd never encountered before — that alone made it an anomaly.
Gojo's pace didn't slow, but his brow drew tighter.
He cared about Megumi Fushiguro.
Satoru Gojo cared about all of his students.
He knew, of course, that choosing to become a jujutsu sorcerer meant choosing a path where death could come at any moment. Megumi had surely made peace with that himself.
But he still worried. He couldn't help it.
That was simply the kind of person Satoru Gojo was.
"Tell me what happened," he said. "Who attacked him?"
Ijichi opened the report. "This afternoon, Megumi sensed an abnormal surge of cursed energy in the Shibuya shopping district and identified a humanoid cursed spirit. The spirit appeared in the form of a blue-haired girl, was capable of holding fluent conversations with humans in their own language, and possessed the ability to manipulate the human body. Megumi assessed its grade as at least Grade 1 and immediately sent a distress signal."
Humanoid. Fluent conversation with humans.
Being able to talk was unusual enough on its own.
Ordinary cursed spirits — even Special Grades — could at best repeat a few words in a mechanical loop. Fluent… at what level did something qualify as "fluent"?
"And then?"
"Upon receiving the signal, we immediately contacted the nearest available Grade 1 sorcerer, Nanami Kento, and dispatched him for backup. However, before Nanami-san arrived, Megumi engaged the cursed spirit in combat while tracking it — and was struck by its technique. Which left him… the way he is now."
Satoru Gojo went quiet.
He'd caught one particular phrase in Ijichi's words.
"The way he is now."
Under what circumstances did people describe someone as "the way they are now"? Only when the person in question had been so severely wounded — their body so fundamentally altered, so utterly unrecognizable from what they'd been — that ordinary language simply couldn't cover it anymore.
The way he is now.
Gojo let out a quiet sigh.
He knew sorcerers could die. He'd always known.
But he'd never thought the parting between him and one of his students would come… this soon.
He stopped walking, because he'd reached the door of the medical office.
Standing outside it was a woman — chestnut-brown hair, a white lab coat, deep shadows under her eyes, an unlit cigarette dangling from her lips. Shoko Ieiri. The exclusive physician of Jujutsu High, and one of Gojo's peers from his own student days.
Most sorcerers who could use Reverse Cursed Technique could only apply it to themselves. Shoko was different — she was one of the rare few capable of using Reverse Cursed Technique to treat others. That made her extraordinarily precious and irreplaceable.
"Shoko."
"Oh, you're here."
"His injuries… even you can't treat them?"
Shoko Ieiri shook her head, her expression complicated. "There's simply no way to reverse it. Reverse Cursed Technique is completely ineffective here. Because from a technical assessment standpoint… the body itself has no damage whatsoever."
"No damage?"
"All physiological indicators are normal. The body is in perfect health — there's nothing that needs to be 'healed.' So Reverse Cursed Technique has nothing to act on."
Gojo didn't understand. Attacked. Left in that condition. But no physical damage?
What on earth was going on?
He drew a slow, measured breath.
He had already steeled himself for the possibility that Megumi was gravely injured — or even dead. But strangely, through the gap in the door he could sense Megumi's cursed energy within the ward: faint, but remarkably steady. Nothing like the signature of someone on the edge of death.
Satoru Gojo pushed open the door.
Strange. The person sitting on the hospital bed wasn't Megumi Fushiguro at all. It was a girl.
Long black hair loose around her shoulders. Dark green eyes. Refined, cool features. Pale skin. Dressed in a patient's gown — and somehow, despite all that, she looked like a clean white lotus.
Beautiful.
Gojo blinked.
He instinctively glanced left and right. There was only one person in the ward.
No Megumi Fushiguro.
Only this unfamiliar, beautiful girl, sitting on the bed where Megumi was supposed to be.
The girl looked up at him. Those dark green eyes carried a familiar expression — composed, detached, and faintly, wearily resigned — as she offered a greeting: "Sensei."
Her voice was lovely.
But the tone… was oddly familiar.
Gojo stood there in mild incomprehension. "…Where's Fushiguro?"
"…" The girl was silent for two seconds. Then, in a voice of utter and profound exhaustion, she added: "I am Megumi Fushiguro."
Satoru Gojo's brain ground to a halt for approximately five full seconds.
Then, slowly, he reached up and removed his blindfold.
A pair of ice-blue eyes was revealed — and they moved over the girl in front of him with careful, thorough attention. Up. Down. Top to bottom.
Silence.
The hospital room sank into silence.
And then the corner of Satoru Gojo's mouth gave a small, involuntary twitch.
"Pfft——"
He couldn't hold it. He burst out laughing.
____
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