Satoru Gojo set Genichi down and spread his arms casually.
"Welcome to Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu High. When you're a little older, this is where you'll be studying."
Genichi took in his surroundings.
Tall trees stood in symmetrical rows, framing a stone-paved path. Traditional lanterns lined the walkway, and beyond them, nestled against the mountainside, rose a cluster of old-style buildings—curved eaves, wooden beams, unmistakably traditional.
Quiet. Hidden. Sacred.
Gojo began walking, hands in his pockets.
"There's a barrier around this place. Ordinary people—and curse users—can't just wander in. Hang out here for a bit. I'll sort a few things out, then we'll figure out what to do with you."
They passed several buildings before stopping in front of a tall, broad-shouldered man.
He had a solid, imposing build. Short black hair, neatly trimmed beard, sharp and steady eyes. The kind of presence that made you straighten your posture without realizing it.
"Gojo," the man said, brow furrowing. "Why are you bringing a child here?"
Gojo gave a brief summary of what happened.
Then he gestured toward the man. "This is my former homeroom teacher—and the next principal of Jujutsu High. Masamichi Yaga. Yaga-sensei, I'll leave him with you for now. I'll be back soon."
And just like that, Gojo vanished.
Silence fell.
Yaga crossed his arms and looked down at the boy who barely reached his waist.
Genichi looked back.
Neither blinked.
"…Ahem."
Yaga cleared his throat first.
He couldn't just stand here in a staring contest with a kid. That would be ridiculous.
He thought for a moment—then softened his voice as much as humanly possible.
"Do you like toys? I have… some that move. You can see if there's one you like."
Genichi immediately thought of the panda he vaguely remembered.
Yaga was the one who created Cursed Corpses—non-living constructs infused with cursed energy that could move on their own.
That was interesting.
Very interesting.
He nodded.
Yaga brought him into a workshop filled with stuffed animal-like creations. Most were animal-shaped. Tools lay neatly arranged nearby.
Yaga picked up a round, fluffy white ball—about the size of a small basketball. It had cartoonish eyes and a mouth, but no limbs.
He handed it to Genichi.
"Gojo said you can use cursed energy. Hold it, channel your energy into it, and imagine making it move. Then throw it at the ground."
Genichi gripped it with both hands. It felt soft—surprisingly nice.
He focused and let cursed energy flow into it.
The eyes suddenly became vivid.
Alive.
The ball trembled in his hands—vibrating harder and harder until it was almost impossible to hold.
He slammed it into the ground.
It shot upward instantly.
Fast.
Too fast.
It hit the ceiling and ricocheted, bouncing off walls at terrifying speed. Within seconds, chaotic white streaks carved a dizzying web across the room.
Yaga froze.
This was just a casual toy he made during downtime. It had extreme elasticity when infused with cursed energy—but minimal offensive power.
So why—
Why was it moving like a high-speed projectile?
Why were there cracks forming along the walls and ceiling?
Yaga was about to intervene when he suddenly saw Genichi move.
The boy's hands lifted.
And in the next second—
The white ball was caught cleanly in his grasp.
Yaga's eyes narrowed.
Gojo had said the boy was special—but not this.
Even without preparation, that speed should've been hard to track.
Yet Genichi caught it effortlessly.
Genichi's eyes were shining.
He had lived one life already. His mind was far more mature than a normal child's.
But this body was still young.
And some parts of childhood still clung to him.
Throwing it. Watching it ricochet wildly. Catching it mid-bounce.
A super-upgraded version of a bouncy ball.
He couldn't help it.
This was fun.
Yaga had planned to say something—but seeing how genuinely happy the boy looked, he held back.
Instead, he took out a few other harmless Cursed Corpses and let him play.
…
When Gojo returned, he found Yaga sitting cross-legged with an amused smile.
A short distance away, Genichi was playing with a husky-shaped Cursed Corpse.
He threw the white fluff-ball again—it bounced away at blinding speed.
The husky darted after it enthusiastically, caught it in its mouth, tripped halfway back, rolled once, then popped up and ran back again like nothing happened.
Yaga noticed Gojo and stood.
"You're back."
Gojo scratched his head.
"…What exactly am I looking at?"
"I didn't want him getting bored," Yaga said calmly. "So I let him play with a few Cursed Corpses. I've been experimenting with giving them independent consciousness lately. That dog is… an imperfect prototype."
Yaga studied Gojo.
"This child has remarkable talent. Where did you find him? What's your plan?"
Gojo rubbed his chin.
"Wait—I didn't tell you?"
After explaining Genichi's background in more detail, Yaga narrowed his eyes.
"That's… extraordinary."
Gojo watched the husky zooming around.
"I've handled the orphanage paperwork. I'll find him a place to live. Worst case, I'll hire a nanny. He's old enough to manage basic stuff, right?"
Yaga sighed heavily.
"He's seven or eight. Early-maturing, yes—but you can't be this careless. Didn't you already take in another child? You should have experience."
Gojo's eyes lit up.
"Oh! Right!"
He slammed his fist into his palm.
"I'll just raise him together with Megumi and the others. They're around the same age. He'll have company. Perfect solution."
Yaga just shook his head.
He had long since given up expecting normal decisions from Gojo.
He gestured for Genichi to come over.
Genichi approached, hugging the white ball. The husky trotted faithfully beside him.
Gojo grinned.
"I've finished the orphanage arrangements. Found you a great place to live too."
"…Thanks."
Genichi nodded politely and tried to return the white ball.
Yaga waved him off.
"Keep them. Consider it a gift. The white ball doesn't do much. But this dog—I've named it Shiroō. It has some combat capability. It might help you someday."
Genichi looked down at the wagging White Wolf, then bowed seriously.
"Thank you."
He hadn't expected Yaga to give them to him.
The man looked intimidating—but his heart was gentle.
A good person.
"I'll take him now," Gojo said.
Before Genichi could protest, Gojo lifted him again.
Hakuro and the fluff-ball were secured in his arms.
Gojo waved.
And in an instant—they disappeared.
—
When Genichi could see clearly again, they stood on a quiet residential street.
Gojo stopped in front of a standalone house and handed him a key.
"This is yours now. I'll get you a nanny later if needed. But first—let's visit next door. That's where your future companion lives. Also my future student."
They walked to the neighboring house.
Gojo knocked in an exaggerated rhythm.
"Megumi~ Tsumiki~ Open up! It's me—Gojo!"
The door opened.
A gentle-looking girl stood there.
"Tsumiki Fushiguro," Gojo greeted cheerfully.
"Good afternoon, Gojo-san," she replied politely.
"Where's Megumi? I brought him a friend."
She glanced at Genichi.
"He's in his room."
Gojo walked inside like he owned the place and headed upstairs without hesitation.
He reached for a door—
But it opened first.
A black-haired boy stepped out. Spiky hair that resembled a sea urchin.
"You weren't even going to knock, were you, Gojo-sensei?"
"I did knock," Gojo replied innocently.
"Not that door…"
Megumi sighed.
Gojo ruffled his hair. It flattened.
Then immediately sprang back up.
With dramatic flair, Gojo spread his arms.
"Ta-da! Meet your new companion. This is Kamihara Genichi. He has the talent of a sorcerer—just like you. He's even awakened his technique already. You might be classmates someday."
Genichi studied Megumi.
He looked almost exactly as he remembered.
Especially the hair.
His face was young—but his expression already carried that calm detachment.
There was something almost cute about the contrast.
Though to Genichi—
He looked a little punchable.
Not that he'd ever say that.
He was a good kid.
At the orphanage, people followed him out of respect.
That's all.
Megumi examined him too.
When he heard Gojo's words, his face darkened slightly.
"I'm not becoming a jujutsu sorcerer."
Gojo ignored that entirely.
"Anyway! Now you know each other. Oh—and elementary school starts soon. You'll probably be classmates there too."
He clapped his hands once.
"Bond properly. I've got things to do."
And just like that—
Satoru Gojo vanished.
Leaving behind three children standing in the quiet hallway.