POV: Tachibana no Toshimichi
DATE: Chōtoku 2, Month 8, 17th Day.
Talent was everything.
From the moment one was born, destiny was decided by the measure of talent they possessed and how far they could push it. In the world of Jujutsu there was little room for anything else; ambition and discipline mattered, of course, but without talent, they were merely tools placed in the wrong hands.
Those blessed with great talent and equally great ambition would rise to define the age itself, becoming the figures whose names shaped the era and whose shadows stretched over the masses beneath them.
Everyone else could do little more than live within those shadows, watching from below as the truly gifted carved their legends into history.
Such was the nature of Jujutsu.
A world that demanded talent.
And in this era above all others, that truth had become even more absolute.
"I have returned, Tachibana-dono."
Toshimichi bowed deeply as he spoke, the movement practised after a lifetime of doing it.
The journey back had not taken long. Their clan's province lay close enough to the capital that a normal traveler might complete the trip within a few weeks, but for sorcerers—unburdened by roads and capable of cutting through dense forest with unnatural speed—the distance shrank to only a few days of travel.
Even so, Toshimichi could never quite suppress the quiet awe he felt whenever the vast sprawl of Heian-kyō came into view.
It was difficult not to marvel at it.
Yet admiration for the capital was not why he had returned.
He was here to deliver his report.
The room where he knelt was reserved only for the Sorcerer's matters of the clan, a chamber deliberately built without windows so that the outside world could not intrude upon its discussions.
The only light came from a handful of candles placed carefully around the space, their weak flames casting long, shifting shadows across the wooden walls.
Behind him, Yoto—his ever-loyal retainer—remained kneeling in the same formal posture.
Before Toshimichi stood three closed tatami doors.
Whoever waited behind them was hidden from view, yet he already knew who occupied those unseen spaces. The elders of the Tachibana clan had gathered to hear his report personally.
To either side of the doors stood three men each, silent guards posted before their respective masters.
Even if Toshimichi didn't know exactly which elders sat within this room, one of them was obviously the head of the clan himself.
Tachibana no Kimisai.
His uncle.
The title meant little.
As a member of the branch family, Toshimichi had not even met the man until he was twelve years old, and by that time the distance between them had already deteriorated.
After all, Toshimichi possessed no remarkable talent.
He was still a sorcerer, which meant the outside world treated him with proper reverence, but within the sorcerer part of the Tachibana clan such status meant little. Compared to the prodigies born during this golden age of Jujutsu, he had been nothing more than average.
A Grade Two.
An acceptable rank in ordinary times.
But in this era?
It was considered less then mediocrity.
Once, kneeling before these elders—men who openly scorned his limitations—would have set his heart ablaze with silent fury.
Once, the humiliation would have gnawed at him until he could barely contain it.
…and yet…
Now?
Now he found that he simply did not care.
"Report," Kimisai finally said from behind the doors, his voice flat with disinterest; obviously, the man had been interrupted from something. "Was the Window's assessment correct?"
Toshimichi lowered his head slightly as he listened, recognizing the familiar tone immediately.
The clan head was already bored.
Ordinarily, a full report was unnecessary when a Window made an error in identifying a curse. Most of the time the dispatched sorcerer simply resolved the situation and punished the Window for the mistake afterward.
But this particular report had been absurd enough to warrant further scrutiny.
Curses capable of speech were hardly rare within the capital. In places where human populations gathered densely, the curses born from their fears often developed a crude intelligence of their own.
Yet this report described something different.
A curse that spoke like a human, one who could reason like a human.
That was something unheard of.
Even now, Toshimichi suspected this entire meeting existed only for the sake of appearances, a performance meant to reassure the clan that the elders took their duties seriously. None of them truly believed the report could be accurate.
Most likely, they expected Toshimichi to confirm the Window's mistake so the matter could be quietly dismissed.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Heh.
Too bad for them.
"It was, Tachibana-dono."
Toshimichi remained bowed as the words left his mouth. After speaking, he deliberately allowed the silence that followed to stretch across the chamber, giving his statement time to settle into the minds of those listening.
He could almost picture their faces behind those closed doors.
…Hehe.
"…What?"
One of the elders spoke before anyone else could respond. The sudden outburst sounded jarringly out of place within the solemn chamber, and Toshimichi had no doubt the man would be reprimanded later for his lapse in decorum. Still, in this moment, such etiquette had become secondary to the implications of his report.
"Explain."
The command came sharply.
In the past, such curt authority would have made Toshimichi bristle beneath the weight of it, anger simmering behind the respectful posture he was forced to maintain.
Now, however, the only thing he felt was a quiet amusement at how quickly their tone had shifted.
"Sorcerer Yoto and I were both witnesses to the curse itself," Toshimichi replied evenly, his head still lowered. "I can confirm that the Windows report was accurate in every detail."
"Impossible!" another elder snapped immediately.
"My words are the truth."
He said it lightly, without force or emphasis, because he did not need to argue the point here.
In the center of the room, precisely where he knelt, a small barrier had been constructed into the floor itself. It was a specialized technique—simple in purpose but absolute in execution—that sacrificed every other function a barrier would normally possess for a single Binding Vow to be willingly taken to anyone kneeling within its range.
The target cannot lie.
Toshimichi had no doubt similar barriers existed in the compounds of other great clans. In matters where absolute truth was required, such tools were indispensable.
Of course, clever wording could still obscure reality through omission or misdirection.
But it was far better to have such a measure in place than to rely purely on trust.
"You've changed."
Kimisai's voice drifted from behind the doors, carrying a hint of intrigue that Toshimichi had rarely heard from his uncle directed towards him.
For a brief moment, Toshimichi had to suppress the urge to laugh aloud.
Yes.
Perhaps he had changed.
His eyes had been opened.
Still, he said nothing, remaining bowed in silent respect as tradition demanded.
"Tell me more," Kimisai continued after a moment. "If the report holds true, then this is a danger that we cannot ignore; share everything you have learned."
Behind the paper doors, Toshimichi could see the shifting silhouettes of the elders. One of the shadows lifted an arm—Kimisai's, most likely—gesturing for him to continue.
Toshimichi bowed his head once more before speaking.
"The curse appears human," he began carefully. "In fact, if not for the stitches that cover his body like patchwork, I would confidently say he could be mistaken for a sorcerer."
A ripple of quiet murmuring spread through the room.
A curse assuming a human form was rare, though not entirely unheard of. The stronger the curses became, the more their bodies tended to resemble those of humans.
So how strong would a curse that appeared entirely human be?
"The Curse is nothing short of a genius in terms of talent."
The moment those words left his mouth, Toshimichi could practically feel the atmosphere change.
Several of the guards frowned openly now, their stoic expressions twisting into visible disgust at the thought of a human sorcerer praising a curse so openly.
"Oh?" one elder responded, clearly intrigued despite himself.
"Throughout the battle," Toshimichi continued, "the curse progressed from the level of a complete amateur to that of a skilled combatant capable of matching even Yoto in pure technique."
That was not a claim to be made lightly, because Yoto was without a doubt the most skilled hand-to-hand combatant of the clan.
Memories of the fight flashed vividly through his mind—the moment when the curse had mirrored Yoto's stance perfectly, the fluid confidence in movements that should have taken years to learn.
The fear he felt then had been very real.
"His growth was nothing short of monstrous," Toshimichi finished. "During the battle itself, he continuously adapted and learned from us."
"You speak as though it were alive," one elder remarked coldly.
Then the following question came, dripping with derision.
"You failed to exorcise it?"
The implication behind the words was obvious, a subtle jab at what they assumed must be his incompetence.
And yet, despite the insult, Toshimichi found himself smiling faintly.
"Yes," he answered without hesitation. "I failed to exorcise him."
The elder's provocation lost its weight immediately, sliding off Toshimichi's calm response without effect, so he simply grunted out a "Continue."
"In terms of cursed energy," Toshimichi said, "I cannot provide an accurate assessment."
"Explain," Kimisai ordered, his tone sharpening.
"The curse is capable of completely hiding his presence," Toshimichi replied. "One could stand directly before him and still be unable to sense the amount of cursed energy he possesses—unless he allows it."
It had been quite a shock. Normally, Sorcerers can amplify their Curse Energy outwards as an intimidation technique, but Toshimichi had heard of one that hides the user's Cursed Energy.
As he continued speaking beneath the barrier's effect, effectively hand-beating them with the truth, Toshimichi noticed the subtle shifts in the room once more. How the guards became just a little bit more restless at his words.
"However," he added, "at the beginning of our battle, he released a tremendous amount of cursed energy."
Toshimichi lifted his head slightly, though he remained formally bowed.
"More than even you, Tachibana-dono." He spoke the words without the slightest hint of fear.
"You dare insult our—?!" One of the elders snapped in outrage, the sheer idea of a curse possessing greater cursed energy than the head of the Tachibana clan clearly too offensive for him to tolerate.
The outburst did not last long.
A sudden wave of cursed energy rolled through the room. The pressure pressed down upon the chamber with quiet authority, silencing the elder mid-sentence before he could finish his protest.
Toshimichi had only been on the receiving end of this particular Cursed Energy once, and he knew who it belonged to.
Tachibana no Kimisai was a powerful Grade One sorcerer, a man who stood near the top of the hierarchy in both skill and power. His strength alone had been enough to maintain the clan's standing during an era where the Fujiwara and the Minamoto had begun to rise and leave them to fade in obscurity.
In any other time the Tachibana would have seen a new rise with him as their leader.
Unfortunately, strength like that was merely above average in this era.
"Are you certain?" Kimisai asked calmly.
The pressure of his cursed energy settled heavily onto Toshimichi's shoulders as he spoke, the weight deliberate, as if making sure that his nephew didn't make any mistakes.
Toshimichi did not even need to think about the answer.
Compared to the overwhelming surge of cursed energy the curse had released during their battle, the aura filling this chamber now felt-
"Yes,"
Smaller.
Kimisai hummed thoughtfully from behind the doors before withdrawing his cursed energy, allowing the oppressive atmosphere in the chamber to loosen. Several guards subtly exhaled as the pressure faded, though they quickly resumed their rigid stances.
"His technique was equally impressive," Toshimichi continued, maintaining his respectful posture. "From what we observed, he appeared capable of manipulating objects purely through thought, pushing and pulling them as if guided by invisible hands."
"What a dangerous technique," Toshimichi could almost see his uncle's eyebrow raising, especially since it was so similar to a specific Sorcerer of the Sugawara, who now served under the Abe clan's Desshi Pacification Squad.
"His ability to heal was just as dangerous," He continued without problem, "By the end of our battle, and suffering many injuries, he appeared unharmed."
Curses could heal just by using Cursed Energy, since they are spiritual creatures born of it, unlike Sorcerers, who need positive energy to do such a thing, but rare was the case of those who could heal so quickly to become relevant in battle.
"Yoto, do you support Toshimichi's words?" One of the elders said, and he had the impression that it was less to support it, and more just to make sure that he wasn't lying about anything.
He couldn't see behind him, but he knew that Yoto nodded in agreement.
"This lowly retainer supports Toshimichi-dono's words." The old man's voice was even more gravely than the elders'. "At a certain point, the Curse lost half of his torso, and managed to heal it within the breath of a conversation."
More murmuring, and Toshimichi had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Seriously, were these guards here for anything else but to sound amazed?
"By the end of our battle, his technique had already become more refined," he said. "Our final clash destroyed a large clearing within the forest. Earlier in the fight, such devastation would have been impossible."
"A Special Grade curse, then," Kimisai mused aloud.
Toshimichi shook his head subtly, but it went ignored.
In recent years, Special Grade curses had begun appearing more frequently across the land. At first, the change had been subtle, but now the pattern was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
It was as though a rising tide of power had begun to crash down upon the world of jujutsu.
The classification of Special Grade had originally been created for beings whose strength could not be measured within the existing scale. This was particularly true for curses, whose growth could be wildly unpredictable.
And yet…
Toshimichi found himself disagreeing with the conclusion forming within the room.
Mahito was not merely a Special Grade.
He was something else entirely.
Something that would continue growing until the existing system could no longer categorize him at all.
A monster.
"And if the curse is as powerful as you claim," another elder finally asked, his voice edged with suspicion, "how did you survive?"
Toshimichi did not hesitate.
"He spared our lives."
The reaction was immediate.
"Ludicrous!" one of the guards burst out, no longer able to restrain himself. "Forgive me, Elder—Tachibana-dono—but I cannot remain silent any longer."
The man stepped forward, rising from his position along the wall. His head had been shaved completely bald, and his narrow face had flushed an angry red as he fixed Toshimichi with a sharp glare.
"Yamato—" one of the elders began sharply before stopping himself midway through the reprimand.
Toshimichi understood immediately.
Even though the barrier ensured he could not lie, they clearly believed his words were exaggerated. To them, his perspective simply lacked the proper scale.
It was the same principle as an ant declaring a single grain of rice to be enormous; from its limited viewpoint, the claim might be true, but to a human the same grain would appear smaller than a fingernail.
"You speak endlessly of the curse's brilliance," Yamato continued, his tone sharp with irritation as he turned briefly to bow toward the clan head before addressing Toshimichi again. "Yet in doing so, you elevate your own accomplishments beyond reason."
He lowered himself to one knee before the doors.
"My lord," he said respectfully, bowing his head. "Allow me to demonstrate the difference in our abilities. If we measure his strength against mine, we may better understand the true scale of the curse's power without… bias."
Without bias, my ass.
Toshimichi kept that thought to himself.
The decision came without hesitation, delivered from behind the paper doors with the same authority Kimisai had used throughout the meeting.
"You may proceed."
The permission caused a shift in the room. Several of the guards straightened slightly, their attention sharpening now that the discussion had moved from words to demonstration.
There wouldn't be much mobility in this room, and he would be fighting at a loss as his Cursed Technique was better when he was at a safe range.
But then again, it didn't matter.
Toshimichi himself rose smoothly from his kneeling posture, the movement unhurried as he stepped away from the small barrier that had bound his honesty.
Across from him, Yamato's expression twisted into a faint smirk as he stood.
He didn't know much about him, except that he was a Sorcerer retainer of their family, but it was obvious that the man looked down on Toshimichi.
Yamato was a capable sorcerer by most measures, but his own talent was hardly extraordinary. Like Toshimichi, he had plateaued at Grade Two, even worse he has yet to show signs of his Innate Technique, and perhaps that was precisely why he disliked him so much.
Because even if both are Grade Two, by virtue of being a member of the noble family, Toshimichi was treated much better than him.
He would even go out on a limb and say that Yamato likely saw this as a great opportunity to put down the 'delusional' sorcerer back in his place.
A dumb idea even before his fight with the Curse. Even back then, Toshimichi was confident he would win if it came to blows. Not quickly, or cleanly, and without a doubt there would be heavy exertion, but he would win.
But now?
The difference between now and a few days ago was something he could feel deep within his bones.
Before his encounter with Mahito, there had always been a wall standing before him—an invisible limit that no amount of training or discipline had allowed him to overcome. No matter how hard he pushed himself, his control remained lacklustre, and his instincts dulled by hesitation.
But after that fight…
It wasn't just the Blackflash; it was what the Curse spoke of.
Do something for myself, huh?
The wall was gone.
Or rather, it had never truly been a wall at all.
Now that he had crossed it once, Toshimichi could see it for what it really was.
A stepping stone.
Cursed energy flowed through his body with a smoothness he had never experienced before, responding to his will as naturally as breathing.
Across from him, Yamato drew his sword in a single sharp motion, the blade flashing briefly in the candlelight.
"Don't take this lightly," Yamato warned, though the smug curve of his lips betrayed his confidence.
Before the last syllable had even left his mouth, he lunged.
Steel cut through the air as he struck in the same breath he finished drawing the weapon, the speed of the attack respectable by any reasonable measure.
Once, Toshimichi might have struggled to react in time.
Once, they would have stood on equal ground.
Both Grade Two sorcerers.
But now…
Now the movement felt painfully obvious.
Toshimichi simply stepped backward.
The motion was almost casual, a small shift of his foot accompanied by a gentle surge of cursed energy reinforcing his body. The blade passed through empty air where he had stood a moment before, Yamato's strike missing by a comfortable margin.
So this was the difference.
This was what it meant to truly understand cursed energy.
Toshimichi exhaled softly.
"Extension Technique," he said, raising his hand as cursed energy gathered around him.
"Soul-Echo."
The name had come to him in the middle of his fight with the Curse, created on instinct rather than anything else. It was less a polished technique and more a desperate attempt to push himself beyond his limits, to draw upon every fragment of strength hidden within his soul in order to stand against the monster before him.
And even then, it had not been enough,
But that did not fill Toshimichi with despair.
If anything, the thought made his heart race with excitement.
Because it meant there was still more room for him to grow.
To his credit, Yamato didn't hesitate; his slash, which met nothing, was drawn back, and he resettled his posture. While there was confusion on his eyes, he charged forward, filled with irritation.
This time, Toshimichi moved first.
The distance between them vanished in a blur as he stepped forward, his body surging with enhanced strength as Soul-Echo reinforced every movement, a transparent armor above his own flesh.
Yamato barely had time to react.
Toshimichi's fist drove forward in a straight line, striking the man squarely in the sternum with a force that echoed sharply through the chamber.
The impact locked Yamato's body instantly.
His sword slipped from his grasp as the air was forced violently from his lungs, his entire frame seizing for a brief, helpless moment before he collapsed onto the floor with a choked gasp.
For several seconds, he could do nothing but struggle for breath.
The fight had ended with a single strike.
Silence settled over the room.
Even the guards along the walls stared in open surprise, their rigid composure slipping as they looked between the fallen Yamato and the man who had defeated him so effortlessly.
Behind the paper doors, the elders stirred.
"…Impossible," one of them muttered under his breath.
Another voice followed soon after, unable to hide the astonishment.
"How did you become this strong, Toshimichi?"
The chamber remained wrapped in a stunned silence as the bald guard lay on the floor, struggling to draw breath, his body still locked from the precise strike Toshimichi had delivered.
At length, Kimisai's voice came from behind the central door.
"…A Black Flash."
It was not phrased as a question
Toshimichi inclined his head in acknowledgment, once again falling into a kneeling position, ignoring the hateful glare that Yamato directed towards him, having regained his breath.
"Yes, Tachibana-dono," he admitted simply. "I achieved a Black Flash during my battle."
A low murmur rippled through the room.
After all, the difference between those who achieve it and those who do not is like Heaven and Earth. A phenomenon that many a sorcerer would chase their entire lives without touching.
Kimisai hummed softly, the only other sorcerer in their clan who also achieved a Black Flash.
"Your strength, it's too much for just a Black Flash." He spoke matter-of-factly.
Toshimichi straightened slightly, though he remained respectful in posture.
"It was through my battle against that curse," he continued, "that I was able to grow beyond my previous limits."
He lifted his gaze just enough to meet the doors before him.
"Mahito."
The name hung in the air of this darkened room.
"The curse introduced himself as Mahito," Toshimichi said calmly. "A being born from humanity's hatred toward itself."
The reaction was immediate, shock spreading through the chamber like wildfire.
All here knew the implications; they knew that curses could be incarnated from specific negative feelings.
The very concept of such a curse was disturbing in a way few others could match; hatred between humans was not a fleeting emotion but a constant presence throughout history.
A curse born from such a source…
What type of monster would be born?
Heh, certainly not what they expected it.
"A curse daring to give itself a name is disgusting," one of the elders said with clear disdain.
Yes, that had been his own reaction at the time, when he first met the Curse.
But now, at this point, Toshimichi felt a flare of annoyance, annoyance that this old bag of bones would insult him.
"Mahito described himself as a wall," Toshimichi continued, subtly defensive. "He claimed that his role was to stand before humanity as a great obstacle—something for sorcerers to challenge and overcome."
One of the elders let out a derisive snort.
"A curse positioning itself as humanity's trial?" he scoffed. "What arrogance."
Toshimichi's faint smile returned.
"It might have been," he conceded. "But it was through facing that adversary that I was able to become stronger."
Mahito had not fought like a mindless curse.
Through their battle, he did nothing but laugh and smile, having fun even as he was damaged, challenging them to rise to the occasion, to test them, and encouraging them to grow stronger.
Toshimichi ignored the elders and turned towards his uncle, bowing deeper towards him.
"I have found the answer, Tachibana-dono," he said calmly, "as to why this generation is so much greater than all those who came before it—and why it will remain so for all those who come after."
A long pause followed before Kimisai finally spoke again.
"What have you found… nephew?"
The title sounded strange coming from the clan head's mouth, as though he himself were unused to saying it.
But Toshimichi did not dwell on that; he only noted that now that he himself was considered a Grade One in terms of strength, it could be said that his position in the clan was no longer at the bottom.
Instead, his thoughts drifted briefly to a figure far beyond the walls of the Tachibana compound.
Master Tengen.
Years ago, the immortal guardian words had once sent ripples across the entire jujutsu world.
"The balance of the world has changed."
At the time, neither the capital nor the great clans had understood what those words truly meant.
Yet no one had dared to ignore them either. Tengen was the cornerstone upon which the structure of jujutsu society had been built, the one responsible for preserving its knowledge and guiding its teachings across generations.
If the Star had spoken, the world of sorcery would listen.
Only later—only as the years passed and a new generation began to rise—did the meaning slowly become clear.
This era would be different.
This era would become the Golden Age of Jujutsu.
One prodigy after another had emerged, each more extraordinary than the last, until the world itself seemed to overflow with monstrous talent.
Sorcerers whose very existence threatened to reshape the history of jujutsu.
And somehow…
All of them had been born within the same era.
Minamoto no Yorimitsu.
Abe no Seimei.
Ashiya Dōman.
Fujiwara no Kaoruko.
Kiyohara no Nagiko.
Taira no Sadamitsu.
The Angel.
And those were merely a few of the names already echoing across the capital.
In an era overflowing with such overwhelming talent, it had reached a point where possessing talent alone meant little. If one were not a monster like those figures, then history would simply leave them behind.
For a long time, Toshimichi had believed that such monsters were born because of a mistake; a divine mistake was the only thing that could explain it.
But now…
Now he finally understood.
There was no doubt left in his mind.
Toshimichi lifted his head slightly, his voice steady as he spoke the conclusion he had reached.
"They were all born to challenge The Adversary of Humanity."
News traveled quickly through the world of sorcerers.
Whispers spread from temple to clan estate, carried by messenger papers and wandering exorcists alike.
A curse had appeared.
A curse that had openly challenged all of humanity to face him.
From the furthest reaches of the Land of the Rising Sun, every sorcerer would eventually hear the same name.
Mahito.
And in this Golden Era—an age overflowing with monsters disguised as prodigies—each listener found themselves wishing the same thing.
To challenge him.
"Hahaha! That's amazing!"
The young man's laughter rang freely through the busy street, as though he had just heard the most entertaining joke of his life. His silver hair caught the afternoon light in a strange way, and if someone looked too closely, they might wonder why the shape of it resembled fox ears.
"A curse that talks like a human? And it challenged all sorcerers?" he continued between laughs. "That's-! I don't even have words for that!"
Beside him walked another boy of the same age, though his demeanor was far calmer. His long black hair swayed gently with each step, several deep green strands running through his bangs like streaks of ink.
"You know," the boy said dryly, glancing at him from the corner of his eye, "normal people wouldn't find this funny."
The silver-haired youth shot immediately.
"Then why are you smiling?"
His grin was matched by the black-haired boy.
"I never said we were normal."
The two of them continued down the crowded streets of the capital, chatting easily as merchants shouted and carts rolled past. Behind them, the messenger paper that had carried the news slowly crumbled into ash
Two young geniuses walked side by side, two men who would one day be remembered as those who reshaped what it meant to be an exorcist.
For now, however, they simply laughed.
"I doubt the curse is truly as fearsome as the Tachibana claim."
The man's voice was calm, almost bored, as he read the report laid before him.
"Still," he continued after a moment, tapping the parchment lightly, "rumors alone can destabilize a realm if they spread too far."
"Yes, Fujiwara-sama."
The woman before him remained bowed deeply, her posture perfect and unmoving as she waited for his next command.
"Dispatch the Sun, Moon, and Star Squads," he ordered casually. "Have them exorcise this curse in my name."
"Yes, Fujiwara-sama."
The man simply leaned back in his seat and smiled faintly.
Having loyal assassins trained from childhood to have no identity certainly simplified things.
They never asked any questions.
"We will carry out your command, lord father."
Two children—one boy and one girl, both on the edge of adolescence—bowed deeply before the man seated at the head of the room. Once dismissed, they turned and left together, their footsteps quiet against the wooden floors.
"You seem troubled."
The girl spoke first.
Her voice was flat, her expression so still it was almost impossible to read.
Her brother glanced sideways at her, though he did not seem surprised she had noticed.
"I was just wondering how strong this curse really is," he admitted after a moment,
His sister stopped walking.
"Put your mind at ease," she said.
Without another word, she turned away and began walking toward the one place he knew she always returned to whenever she was not eating, sleeping, or sent away on a mission.
The training yard.
Even after she disappeared from his view, her voice carried calmly over her shoulder.
"Even if the curse is a monster…"
Her steps never slowed.
"I will exorcise it."
And her brother believed her without question.
After all…
His sister was nothing short of a Monster herself.
"Is this information accurate?"
The woman who spoke stood near the open balcony, golden hair cascading down her back like molten sunlight. Though she was not particularly tall, the commanding presence in her voice left little doubt about who held authority in the room.
The man kneeling behind her bowed his head gravely.
"Yes. The reports are consistent."
"So, he is here."
Her expression darkened as she turned toward the setting sun on the horizon.
Above her head, a radiant halo shimmered with radiance, and from her back unfurled a pair of vast wings. The air trembled softly as she rose from the balcony.
"The Adversary!"
With a single beat of her wings, she launched into the sky.
More and more.
People laughed at the idea.
People raged at the idea.
They thought it to be foolish.
They thought it to be amazing.
Some were afraid.
Others were furious.
And yet all of them-
Believed.
POV: Mahito
The rock floated in the air.
Hmm.
With a simple push of intent, it rose a little higher before gently lowering again as though guided by invisible hands.
Hmmmmmm.
I tried making it move faster this time, but the moment the speed increased, the movement became awkward and stiff. Instead of turning smoothly, the rock just shot forward in straight lines like a badly thrown dart.
Hmmmmmmmmmmmm.
Ah, I lost control-
The pebble slammed straight into my eye.
Ouch—
Aiaiai!
"Fuck! Piece of shit—motherf—!"
Taking a deep breath, I grab the stone through Poltergeist.
"Okay, okay… just breathe, Mahito," I muttered while clutching my face. "Just slowly pull it out and—"
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH-!
AN: Well, hello there, am I a week earlier than normal? Yes, I am.
I honestly did not expect to like Toshimichi as much as I did, yet somehow he managed to worm his way into my plans, and he swiftly becomes the first 'disciple' of the Adversary! He'll probably show up later in the story
We also give a bit of a showing of the various parties that gain bits of this news, especially during the time that this is happening, where rebellions are being plotted, and legendary figures are breathing.
This is the Golden Age of Jujutsu, where the term Special Grade won't be enough to classify everyone, and with this cataclysm in the rise, who else can challenge humanity but the Adversary himself?
Heh, unfortunately, poor Sukuna is wandering around as a teenage boy, massacring whatever traveller finds themselves on his path, so he didn't get the memo.
For those wondering how Toshimichi managed to make such a sudden jump from Grade Two to Grade One
Well... let's just say that Mahito's Outline of the Soul isn't just for accumulating faith
After all, its his very soul, the shape of how it stands and how it interacts with the world.Last edited: Mar 25, 2026 Like Quote ReplyReport Reactions:idk152, JuliusVonAngels, Merior and 1,168 others