Chapter Fifty-Three : Returning to Zero at Kyoto Academy
Time passed quickly. In less than two weeks, the battle damage had disappeared from the walls of the Jujutsu High School, all thanks to the support teams that had mobilized resources to restore the place to its former glory. Bang. Bang. Clang. The sounds of construction had filled the air constantly—hammers striking wood, metal beams being welded, workers shouting instructions back and forth like a symphony of restoration that played from sunrise to sunset.
Of course, I was impressed by this speed. How could I not be? They could repair a place this easily, and not just this location either—every single area that had been attacked by the curses and monsters of Suguru Geto was getting the same treatment. It was like watching magic happen, except it was just really dedicated workers with unlimited budgets and probably some cursed energy enhancements to speed things along.
I moved to the right and sent cursed energy to my eyes. Click. The world shifted as my vision transformed—sharper, clearer, more detailed. My eyes had transformed into the Sharingan, and I began training. I ran, stopped, ran again, all while trying to throw weapons toward myself. Yes, currently I was throwing knives—covering them with cursed energy and launching them in directions where I stood, attempting to train my ability to send long-range attacks.
Fwoosh. Thunk. Fwoosh. Thunk.
Each knife flew through the air with precision, embedding itself into targets I'd set up around the training ground. I'd understood something during that fight: I couldn't defeat people who possessed high destructive power in close-range combat. That realization had hit me hard—harder than any physical blow I'd taken. So now, at this time, I was thinking about developing long-range attacks.
I continued using my eyes to increase the accuracy of my throws, little by little. Thunk. Thunk. THUNK. The knives hit closer and closer to their marks, the sounds becoming a satisfying rhythm of progress. And honestly? It wasn't very difficult. I discovered now that I possessed some talent in the field of shooting. My throws became faster and faster, the blades whistling through the air with increasing precision.
I kept at it, not realizing how quickly time was moving. The sun had shifted noticeably across the sky before I finally stopped, my arm aching pleasantly from the workout.
Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.
I heard footsteps approaching—that distinctive rhythm I'd come to recognize over the past months. The sound stopped finally, and a voice called out to me.
"Obito... there's something important. The director requests your presence."
I went to the director after a few minutes. Panda was beside me—he was the one who'd called me earlier. We reached the director's room, and the door creaked ominously as we approached. Panda looked at me, placed his hand on my shoulder, and said, "I have work now, so I'll leave. Good luck."
I noticed him tremble for a moment and didn't understand why. But I smiled at him and said it was no problem. He walked away, his footsteps squeaking-squeaking down the hallway until the sound faded completely.
I entered the interior.
Director Yaga was looking at files related to the repairs, from what I could tell. He'd been at it for what seemed like a long time—even his sunglasses couldn't hide his exhaustion. The dark circles under his eyes were visible even through the tinted lenses, and his normally rigid posture had slumped slightly into his chair.
Sigh.
He let out a long breath and said, "It's good that you came in. Sit here."
I followed his order and sat on the chair, taking a deep breath as I waited for what he would say. The chair squeaked beneath me—one of those office chairs that had definitely seen better decades.
Yaga adopted a comfortable position, his chair groaning in protest at the movement, then began as if he was thinking for a moment about what to say. But it was clear he was thinking seriously—his brow furrowed, his fingers drumming once on the desk in a slow tap-tap-tap pattern before he finally spoke.
"Hey kid. Kyoto High School is sending you a message that you must go there."
I wasn't surprised while hearing this. I was calm. I'd been expecting this. I'd spent a long time here, and I think this period was only because of the Zenin Clan leader who wanted to observe Yuta due to the council and also his curiosity. But after the Queen of Curses had been defeated and her body transformed by Yuta into a Shikigami, the clan leader's desire had disappeared. So of course, now Kyoto High School would request my return.
And not just that—after my achievements, which had definitely become clear to the Jujutsu Council with all their spies everywhere, they surely knew I'd been one of the two people fighting Suguru Geto. And having survived that encounter? It was obvious they'd become very interested in me.
I smiled at the director and said, "Of course, sir. When should I go?"
He didn't seem to expect my calmness. I didn't know why—maybe he thought I'd want to stay here after making so many friends. Honestly? I did want that. Most of the main events would happen here in six months. But there were several things bothering me.
First, I didn't want to form friendships. I had a desire to become stronger. I'd learned what I needed to learn in this place. So it was time to think about going to other places. Time to study in Kyoto as it should be. Staying longer in this place wouldn't be beneficial.
At the same time, I felt some sadness. But I didn't want to show it, even if it seemed pathetic to me. Somehow, I'd started getting used to them as friends. The thought of leaving Panda's training sessions, Yuta's eager enthusiasm, even Inumaki's cryptic but well-meaning comments—it stung a little.
"I see that. Then you must go tomorrow. There will be a driver to take you to Kyoto."
Before he could finish, I raised my hand. The director stopped talking for a moment and looked at me. He paused his words briefly.
"Sir, I have a driver. I'll go alone after saying goodbye to everyone."
Sigh.
The director sighed again, understood the situation, and finally agreed. "Alright then. There's nothing else. I wish you good luck. Remember... don't die."
I saw him smile in a way I hadn't expected. Maybe I was hallucinating for a second before seriousness returned. He pointed toward the door as if telling me the conversation had ended. But I noticed that even in these serious looks, there were some good feelings hidden behind them. So I didn't say anything at first—just turned to leave, then stopped.
"Thank you, Director, for allowing me to train in this place and for healing me when I was in a coma."
Yaga smiled when he heard these words but didn't say anything. He felt like he hadn't really done anything—because for him, Obito had become one of the students in this place. He'd shown sincerity after the battle that happened at the academy and his support for Yuta. Otherwise, Yuta wouldn't have won against Geto. So Yaga could only say, "You can come anytime, kid. Tokyo High School will always welcome you."
I walked out, and Yaga watched me leave with a smile before returning to his annoying office work. At the same time, he didn't realize that Obito didn't feel like a good person. In reality, he thought of himself as an exploitative person—that's what he believed about himself. But he didn't tell others that. He just left silently.
Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.
My footsteps echoed through the hallway as I made my way to the hall there. Panda was there, along with Inumaki, and beside them was Yuta, who was smiling and laughing. That stopped immediately when they saw me arriving.
Yuta smiled and laughed again. "Obito-senpai! Please, sit down!"
He gestured to the chair beside him with genuine enthusiasm, his eyes bright with that earnest energy he always carried.
"Thanks."
I sat there, and we quickly began talking about our missions during these two weeks. Click. Clack. The sounds of chopsticks hitting plates mixed with our conversation as snacks were passed around. Finally, that continued for about half an hour until everyone stopped talking.
Then, in that moment, I found it was the right time to say what I needed to say. So I tapped on the table—tap-tap-tap—drawing their attention.
"I want to tell you something important."
Yuta looked at me, along with the others. I was calm when I began speaking.
"I'm really glad I was in this place and trained with you. You're truly wonderful people. But it's time for me to return to where I should be. Thank you sincerely for everything you've done for me."
I bowed after standing up from my chair in front of them, happy about this training, about these few months I'd trained in this place. The chair scraped against the floor as I stood, the sound echoing in the suddenly quiet hall.
"What are you saying, senpai? We're happy you were with us. It was amazing."
Yuta's voice was sincere as he said this. He truly believed Obito was his dear friend. They'd done so much training together, and on top of that, he'd fought beside him. Obito had been the best senpai. So he felt some sadness knowing Obito would become a competitor from another academy after being with him since he'd arrived at Tokyo High School.
But that didn't make Yuta sad for long, because he was happy that his senpai cared about them. And that was the best thing for him. His smile returned, though it was a little smaller than before.
Panda also smiled, genuinely happy to see this. "I also enjoyed training you. You've become a good boxer."
In these four months, Panda had trained Obito in the arts of boxing and cursed energy manipulation. Honestly, fundamentally, he'd been Obito's main teacher who'd brought him to this level in such a short period. It was only because he was an amazing teacher—Obito acknowledged that and was truly happy about all that training.
"Yes, Panda-senpai."
After that, Inumaki remained silent. But after the two finished speaking, he stood up and used his mouth to say a few phrases in his unique style—"Takana," "Okaka," "Shake"—but the meaning was clear: We'll always be friends.
Obito smiled because in four months, he'd finally managed to understand one sentence from Inumaki's cursed speech vocabulary. So he was genuinely happy.
"Thank you all, truly. I'm happy with all the time I spent here."
And so the celebration continued after that. Food was brought—clatter of plates, clink of glasses, the sizzle of hot dishes arriving—and they ate quickly while laughing. One would joke while another laughed, and so things continued at that table.
Crunch. Munch. Slurp.
The sounds of eating filled the air, mixed with laughter and conversation.
---
Maki was watching that celebration while eating her food, and she didn't like what she saw. On top of that, she felt a little disgusted. But at the same time, she felt less hostile after four months of dealing with this person who'd been so terrible in her past. At this moment, she felt less antagonistic—especially since according to Yuta, he'd helped him immensely in defeating Suguru and had saved many shamans because of that.
But still, she was angry. She cursed constantly while eating—"Tch" and "Damn it" under her breath between bites—but she didn't say anything out loud. In reality, she just continued watching, her eyes looking at Obito a few times before returning to her food.
Chew. Chew. Glare.
"He's leaving. Finally, I'll get some peace from him."
She felt relief that he was leaving because she didn't want to see his face anymore. But at the same moment, her eyes were also angry because she didn't want to let him leave—her sister was at Kyoto High School, and she didn't want that bastard near her sister at any time.
But in the end, she could only surrender because there was no way for her to make him leave Kyoto High School. Even if she wanted to use force and beat him to death, somehow she'd started to think she couldn't do that anymore—especially after learning his current power level.
He'd mastered the Black Flash technique. She didn't understand this technique well, but she knew the offensive power of a shaman who used it multiplied by 2.5. Additionally, cursed energy control would rise to 120% for a limited time. For a shaman who became able to use this ability even once, they became significantly different from what they were before using it.
And this wasn't the only thing that made Maki feel she'd become very weak compared to the first time she'd fought him. He'd also become able to use Reverse Cursed Technique. Unlike Black Flash, which she didn't understand well, she knew that Reverse Cursed Technique possessed the ability to heal the user. That meant even if she hit him with her weapon, he could heal himself.
Crunch.
She wanted to hit the table with her fist, but in the end, she stayed there watching this celebration. Finally, after feeling she couldn't tolerate any more, she left and went to the training ground, ready to take more hours of training to become stronger.
Slam. The door closed behind her with more force than necessary.
"I'll..." Her eyes lit up with strange determination, burning with competitive fire. "...really beat you next time."
Thus she left. Obito didn't know or read her feelings, but while eating one of the meals, he felt a slight shiver, like a wave of cold had hit him. Shiver. He paused mid-bite, chopsticks frozen in the air, before continuing to eat, thinking this was just a brief cold. None of the other three noticed her departure.
---
[In the Zenin Clan Area]
Naobito was angry as he looked at his son before saying with ferocity, "Two weeks have passed and you don't know where that whore is?"
SMACK. His hand hit the table hard enough to make the wood crack ominously. The events that had happened had driven Naobito insane—intermittently, at least. He'd learned that most of the soldiers he'd sent with Naoya had been intercepted by a shaman girl possessing an ice technique who'd annihilated many of them. She'd even managed to force Naoya to fight her for a long time until the battle between Suguru Geto and Okkotsu Yuta had ended.
For Naobito, this was unacceptable by any means—especially for shamans of the Zenin Clan. So he'd launched a wide-scale search operation to find this shaman. Unfortunately, after more than two weeks, they hadn't found this bitch. This made him feel like someone was playing with him from the shadows.
Tick. Tick. Tick. The clock on the wall marked the passing seconds like a countdown to explosion.
"Yes, that whore isn't anywhere. I really want to kill her and make her regret everything she did."
Naoya wasn't any less angry. He'd wanted to fight her for a full day and kill her in the most horrific way possible—for preventing him from achieving the glory he should have achieved. He'd been one step away from killing Suguru Geto, a Special Grade shaman, and achieving glory sufficient to make him the next clan leader. But because of her interference, he'd been denied that.
And this wasn't the only thing that angered him. He'd been about to make her get hit, but in the end, after that final attack that tore the sky—the one Okkotsu Yuta had unleashed—she'd looked at him and then disappeared using her cursed technique while transforming into something like mist.
Whoosh. The memory of that disappearing act played in his mind—the way she'd just dissolved into vapor like she'd never existed.
He was certain she'd used that technique because she believed her mission had ended. And he was certain that mission had been to hinder him or defeat him along with his soldiers. That angered him to another level entirely.
So he'd followed orders and searched using spies everywhere for this woman. But they hadn't found her anywhere. It was like she was a ghost, not really existing. The frustration built with each empty report, each failed sighting, each dead end.
Of course, neither of the two realized that Yoraimi's actual goal had only been to hinder the Zenin group due to Kenjaku's instructions. He'd informed her of that, of course. After executing this mission and ensuring Geto had lost, she'd completed her task and left the place without any further interest.
Silence. The father and son didn't know this information. There was no shaman female possessing such a powerful ice technique recorded anywhere. So there was no way to find her anywhere, even with their search and using clan resources for a long time.
In the end, Kenjaku possessed many places to escape. It wasn't easy to find a shaman who'd existed in the world for over 1000 years. He had many ways to escape from anywhere and even more hiding methods.
"We won't stop searching for her. I want to see her corpse with my own eyes."
Naobito said this while looking at his son with extreme harshness. His eyes were bloodshot, the veins in his forehead prominent with barely contained rage.
"Of course. I won't allow her to go anywhere, old man."
There was terrifying determination in Naoya's voice—to the degree that it could be called obsession. He'd begun to want to see that woman dead at any cost. This had become his life's mission. He'd always hated women and treated them with contempt, and he wouldn't allow any woman to mock him.
Creak. Naoya's chair scraped against the floor as he prepared to leave.
"You can leave now. I want to obtain information as quickly as possible."
Naoya didn't say anything and left. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. His footsteps faded down the hallway, each step heavy with purpose.
Naobito Zenin remained in the leader's room, holding a wine glass and drinking it in one sip, his eyes angry. Gulp. The wine burned going down, but it did nothing to quench the fire of his rage.
He'd wanted to eliminate the Geto threat as quickly as possible because it threatened Jujutsu society—all of Japan, really—with danger. If other countries discovered that there were hidden entities called curses, the consequences would be catastrophic. He'd wanted Geto to die and for the matter to end.
But unfortunately, he'd managed to escape. That's what Satoru Gojo had told the council. Additionally, this information had been sent to all Jujutsu clan members and schools. Everyone knew that Suguru Geto was still alive. That still made the chances of him starting another attack certain—because he definitely wouldn't surrender and would try again.
Sigh.
"Anyway... what is that brat doing? Even he hasn't done anything useful."
He remembered Obito's face and couldn't help but get angry. "You're truly useless. In the end, I couldn't obtain any useful information. And even this battle, which should have ended the way I wanted, not only failed to give me profit but made this an humiliation I have to deal with."
He thought the amount of information he'd obtained was very little. He hadn't expected these new things added to the equation, which had made his clan lose. And of course, he realized Obito wasn't the reason, but he wanted to say anything to relieve himself a little.
But in the end, he just sighed. Sigh.
In reality, Obito had always been doing that since no support reached him in that fight. He always cursed the Zenin Clan. And because he hadn't gone to the clan and they hadn't been informed directly by Naobito, he still didn't know why no Zenin Clan member had come that night.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The clock continued marking time as Naobito sat alone with his thoughts, the empty wine glass reflecting the dim light, and somewhere in the distance, the sounds of the clan compound continued—footsteps, conversations, the endless machinery of a powerful family continuing its operations while its leader stewed in frustrated silence.
---
Outside, the sun had fully set, painting the sky in shades of deep purple and black. Crickets chirped in the gardens surrounding the compound, oblivious to the rage and obsession festering within those ancient walls. Somewhere, a dog barked. Somewhere else, a door slammed shut.
Tomorrow Obito will go to Kyoto Academy, but at the moment they were just looking from afar out of his room's window at the moonlight.
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End of Chapter.
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