The training grounds were silent.
Not the peaceful kind—but the kind that made even experienced fighters instinctively straighten their backs.
Ren Oshimiya stood at the center of the wide concrete field, hands in his pockets, eyes calmly observing the two figures approaching him.
One walked casually, blindfold in place, hands raised behind his head.
The other's footsteps were heavy, deliberate, radiating reassurance with every step.
"SO YOU'RE THE KID!"
All Might's voice boomed with familiar warmth. "YOUNG MAN, WELCOME TO—
—U.A / Jujutsu High"
"yeah, yeah," the white-haired man interrupted lazily.
He stopped directly in front of Ren and leaned down, face inches away.
Satoru Gojo smiled.
"Ohhh," he said. "You're that one."
Ren blinked. "That… one?"
Gojo straightened. "Yep. The one whose cursed energy feels like it's actively trying to escape his body."
All Might's smile faltered slightly.
Gojo turned his head. "No offense, Symbol of Peace, but if this kid sneezes emotionally, a Grade 2 curse is getting crushed."
Ren tilted his head. "That sounds… bad?"
"That sounds," Gojo corrected cheerfully, "terrifying."
From the observation deck above, several familiar faces watched.
Aizawa, arms crossed.
Kakashi-like in posture, exhausted already.
Bakugo scowled. "Tch. Another transfer?"
"Itadori leaned forward. "Whoa… I feel kinda sick just standing here."
Maki narrowed her eyes. "That pressure isn't normal."
Megumi swallowed. "It's not aggressive. It's restrained."
Midoriya was furiously scribbling in his notebook.
"He's not doing anything but the ambient energy density is—wait, is that even measurable?!"
Back on the field, All Might crouched slightly to meet Ren's height.
"Young Ren," he said gently, "your father once stood where you are now."
Ren's eyes flickered.
"Hikaru Oshimiya," All Might continued. "A man whose presence alone could shift a battlefield."
Gojo laughed. "Ugh. Don't remind me. Your dad was a pain."
Ren looked up. "You knew him?"
"Knew him?" Gojo grinned. "We were rivals. He punched me through three buildings once."
All Might coughed loudly. "That was… an exaggeration."
"It was four," Gojo corrected.
Ren processed this quietly.
"So," Gojo said, suddenly serious, "before we even think about classes—"
He stepped forward.
The air changed.
Not visibly.
But every sorcerer watching felt it immediately.
Pressure.
Not crushing. Not violent.
Just… vast.
Gojo's smile vanished.
"…your cursed energy output," he said calmly, "is absurd."
Ren felt it then—the subtle tightening in his chest, like holding back a breath he didn't know he was taking.
"If you don't learn control," Gojo continued, "you won't need enemies."
All Might clenched his fist. "Because he could harm others unintentionally."
Ren nodded once. "I understand."
Gojo studied him for a long moment.
Then smiled again—wide, sharp, excited.
"Man," he said. "This is gonna be fun."
As Ren turned to leave, the concrete beneath his feet cracked.
Just a hairline fracture.
No one had felt an attack.
No one sensed intent.
Only power—
momentarily forgetting to stay asleep.
From the shadows, something unseen recoiled.
Not from fear.
From recognition.