At Tokyo Jujutsu High, chaos was pretending to be education.
Which, in all fairness, was not unusual when Satoru Gojo was involved.
The training ground had long since stopped resembling a place of disciplined learning and now looked more like the aftermath of several bad decisions stacked on top of one another. Bits of splintered wood lay scattered near the dummy posts. The air still carried the residual sting of cursed energy. And at the center of it all stood Gojo himself, hands in his pockets, smiling like a man who believed the line between "teaching" and "messing with teenagers" was more of a suggestion.
"Alright," Gojo said brightly, "what do we do when facing an opponent stronger than us?"
Maki answered immediately.
"Hit them harder."
Gojo put a hand to his chest.
"That's so violent, Maki. I'm proud."
Panda raised a paw.
"Run away strategically."
"Very realistic," Gojo said. "Also proud."
Yuta, more thoughtful, said, "Try to understand their cursed technique first."
Gojo pointed at him.
"See? That's why you're my sensible one."
Inumaki, standing off to the side, simply said, "Salmon."
Gojo nodded solemnly.
"Correct."
Maki folded her arms.
"That wasn't even a real answer."
"Everything Inumaki says is a real answer if you believe in yourself."
Maki looked like she regretted waking up this morning.
The "lesson," if it could be called that, had become Gojo making them react to increasingly ridiculous scenarios while pretending this was all part of a broader teaching philosophy. Sometimes it was. Sometimes it absolutely was not.
Yuta, however, was only half paying attention.
Not because he didn't want to learn.
But because Oden had been on his mind.
Eventually, during one of the rare pauses where Gojo had stopped talking long enough for another human being to exist, Yuta spoke up.
"Sensei."
Gojo turned his head.
"Hm?"
"There's something I wanted to tell you."
That got Panda's attention too.
"Ah," Panda said. "About blindfold guy."
Gojo's visible expression sharpened instantly, even behind the bandages.
"Blindfold guy?" he repeated. "That already sounds like my kind of person."
Yuta smiled awkwardly.
"We met someone in Tokyo," he said. "A sorcerer. Around our age, maybe a little older."
Panda jumped in.
"And weird."
Maki added, "Very weird."
Inumaki offered, "Bonito flakes."
Gojo tilted his head.
"Interesting weird or exhausting weird?"
"Yes," Maki said.
That made Gojo laugh.
Yuta pressed on.
"He was strong," he said. "Really strong."
Panda nodded.
"And he fought Hakari."
That got a reaction.
Gojo's grin widened.
"Oh?"
Panda folded his arms.
"I'm serious. Went toe-to-toe with him. I didn't see the whole thing, but just hearing that from Oden didn't feel like bragging. It felt… weirdly casual."
Maki's eyes narrowed slightly.
"He also uses shikigami," she said. "At least some kind of summoning technique. And he wears a blindfold."
Gojo's interest spiked visibly now.
"A blindfold and shikigami?" he said. "And he fought Kinji?"
Yuta nodded.
"He also didn't know who you were."
That made the room go still for half a second.
Then Gojo pointed at himself.
"Now that," he declared, "is illegal."
Panda snorted.
Maki muttered, "That was my reaction too."
Gojo rubbed his chin theatrically.
"So," he said, "mysterious blindfolded boy with a summoning technique and zero appreciation for a celebrity. I definitely need to meet him."
Yuta smiled faintly.
"I thought you'd say that."
Gojo's voice dropped into something more thoughtful beneath the humor.
"A sorcerer like that doesn't just appear by accident," he said. "Especially not one who can interest Kinji."
He looked out over the training ground.
"…Oden, huh?"
And if the smile that followed looked a little too pleased—
well.
That was a problem for everyone else.
---
Elsewhere, far from Jujutsu High and its strange blend of brilliance and dysfunction, Kinji Hakari and Kirara stood before the Zenin estate.
The guards at the entrance recognized Hakari instantly.
Which did not improve their mood.
One of them frowned.
"Hakari."
The other's gaze hardened.
"The suspended second-year."
Hakari slipped his hands into his pockets and smiled lazily.
"Nice to know I'm memorable."
Neither guard looked amused.
"What do you want?" one asked.
Hakari yawned slightly, as if the answer bored him.
"I've got information. Important information. I want to speak to the clan head."
The guards exchanged a look.
Then one of them said flatly, "No."
Hakari stared.
"Wow," he said. "That fast?"
"You're not welcome here."
Hakari's smile remained.
"But my information is."
"No."
Kirara, standing beside him, looked only mildly invested in whether this went smoothly or became annoying.
Hakari clicked his tongue.
"You people really suck at recognizing opportunity."
"Leave," one guard said.
And then—
a voice drifted from further within the estate.
"No need for that."
The guards immediately straightened.
Naobito Zenin approached with the relaxed gait of a man who looked half-drunk, half-disinterested, and wholly dangerous despite both impressions. His yukata sat slightly loose, his expression carrying that usual vague amusement which never quite dulled the sharpness behind his eyes.
He stopped a short distance away and studied Hakari.
"You came all this way," Naobito said. "I suppose I can spare a little time to hear what you have to say."
Hakari grinned.
"See? Finally, a cultured person."
The guards looked deeply offended by this.
Naobito merely turned.
"Come."
---
They were taken to a private room within the estate.
It was the sort of room built to make visitors behave carefully. Refined, traditional, quiet, and expensive in a way that did not need to announce itself. Hakari and Kirara sat opposite Naobito across a low table. Tea was served to all three.
Hakari lifted the cup, took a sip, and then, without shame, said, "I want food too."
Naobito looked at him.
Hakari went on.
"Something good. Preferably not tiny."
Kirara closed their eyes briefly.
'He's doing it on purpose.'
Naobito, however, did not object.
Because Hakari was far too relaxed for someone coming here to play games.
And if by some miracle he was here to play games, mocking one of the great clans to their faces would be an impressively suicidal choice.
So Naobito simply waved a hand.
"See to it," he said.
A servant bowed and left.
Naobito then settled properly and looked at the pair across from him.
"Naobito Zenin," he said. "Clan head."
Hakari gave a short nod.
"Kinji Hakari."
Kirara smiled faintly.
"And I'm Kirara."
Naobito took another sip of tea.
"Now," he said, "get on with it already."
Hakari did not rush.
Because he knew what he had.
And more importantly—
he knew what it was worth.
Before speaking, he leaned forward slightly and said:
"First, I want your word."
Naobito's eyes narrowed just a fraction.
"What word?"
Hakari smiled.
"That if the information I'm about to give you is worth it, the Zenin clan will owe me a favor."
Naobito let the silence hang for a moment.
Then said, "That depends entirely on what information you have."
Hakari's grin widened.
"Fair."
He set his tea down.
Then began.
"There's a scocorer in Tokyo," he said. "Young. Blindfolded and unaffiliated, as far as I can tell."
Naobito listened without interruption.
Hakari continued.
"He uses a shikigami-based technique."
That alone drew a subtle change in Naobito's gaze.
Hakari noticed.
And kept going.
"It's similar to the Ten Shadows."
Now Naobito's attention fully sharpened.
Hakari leaned back slightly.
"I fought him myself," he said. "He summoned multiple shikigami. Different types, different roles. Fast ones. Predatory ones. Area control. Support. He switched between them intelligently and didn't even look strained."
Kirara folded their arms.
"He also wasn't fighting all-out," they added. "He kept the blindfold on the entire time."
Hakari nodded.
"And his cursed energy reserves are absurd."
Naobito said nothing.
So Hakari gave him more.
"He used a snake shikigami. A rabbit. Something tiger-like. Others too, from what I could tell. The whole technique had that same general feeling. Manifested familiars with flexible applications."
He smiled a little wider.
"Sound familiar?"
Naobito's fingers rested lightly against his cup.
For a few seconds, he simply considered the information.
Then—
slowly—
he smiled.
It was not a warm smile.
It was the smile of an old fox realizing that a trail he had not expected to find might actually lead somewhere worth hunting.
"If this information is accurate," Naobito said, "then yes."
His eyes met Hakari's.
"It is indeed worthy of a favor."
Hakari's grin sharpened with satisfaction.
Naobito rose to his feet.
"The Zenin clan will look into it," he said. "For now…"
His smile lingered.
"You may indulge yourself."
Hakari leaned back, satisfied.
Kirara sighed softly.
---
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