The battlefield quieted, not from peace, but anticipation.
Dust drifted lazily through the fractured air. The ruined street groaned beneath its own damage, cracks webbing outward like veins under pressure.
At the center of it all stood two figures.
Watching each other.
Measuring.
Then—
A smile.
Satoru Gojo tilted his head slightly, hands still buried comfortably in his pockets.
"…You know," he said lightly, as if they weren't standing on the edge of catastrophe, "my students talk about you."
Oden didn't respond.
Gojo continued anyway, voice warm, genuinely so.
"Especially Yuta. He seems to like you."
A small grin tugged at his lips.
"Which is rare. He's picky with people."
Behind Oden, Miguel shifted, still half-kneeling in the rubble, watching with narrowed eyes.
Oden's expression didn't change.
"…I don't care."
Gojo blinked once.
Then chuckled.
"Harsh."
A pause.
Then Oden spoke again. Flat, direct, like a blade drawn without flourish.
"I'm here to kill you."
The words didn't carry anger.
They didn't carry pride.
Just intent.
Gojo's smile didn't falter.
If anything, it softened.
"…That's a pretty serious thing to say to someone you just met."
Oden stepped forward once.
"I have to."
That made Gojo pause.
Not outwardly, but something behind the blindfold shifted.
"…Have to?" he echoed.
Oden's voice remained steady.
"If you die… then there's no reason for them to kill him."
A beat.
"Yuta Okkotsu lives."
Silence.
Wind passed between them.
Then—
Gojo laughed.
"…That's actually kind of sweet."
Miguel's brow furrowed.
Gojo tilted his head again, voice softer now.
"So let me get this straight," he said. "You're trying to kill me… to save one of my students?"
Oden didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
Gojo exhaled slowly.
"…Then why are we fighting on opposite sides?"
That question lingered.
Hung in the space between them.
Then Gojo lifted a hand casually, pointing behind him.
"You could just… come over here, you know."
A small shrug.
"Join us. Tokyo Jujutsu High always has room for strong weirdos."
Miguel's eyes widened slightly.
"…Gojo—"
Oden shook his head.
"No."
Immediate.
No hesitation.
Gojo blinked again.
"…No?"
"I won't leave Miguel."
That was it.
Simple.
Final.
Miguel clicked his tongue, pushing himself up slightly despite the pain.
"…Kid," he muttered. "Don't do this."
Oden didn't look back.
Miguel's voice hardened.
"You don't understand who you're standing in front of. That's not someone you can just fight because you feel like it."
A pause.
"…You can't even touch him."
The truth of it settled heavily.
Infinity.
The untouchable distance.
The absolute defense.
But Oden…
Didn't move.
"…I know."
Gojo's smile sharpened slightly.
"Oh?"
Oden's fingers flexed once at his side.
"I know about your technique."
The air shifted.
Subtle, but real.
"Limitless," Oden continued. "The infinite space between you and everything else. Nothing reaches you because it slows endlessly before making contact."
Gojo raised a brow beneath the blindfold.
"…Not bad."
Miguel frowned.
"…Since when do you—"
"Recently," Oden cut in.
He lifted his hand slightly, staring at it.
"…Everything came to me."
Fragments.
Understanding.
Clarity.
"My technique," he said quietly. "I understand it now."
Then his gaze lifted again.
Sharp.
Focused.
"Chinese Zodiac."
For the first time—
Gojo's posture shifted.
Interest.
Real interest.
"…That so?"
Oden nodded once.
"Out of all of them…"
A ripple of cursed energy stirred around him.
"…there's one that matters most against you."
The ground beneath his feet trembled faintly.
Something ancient.
Something defiant.
Answering.
Then—
It appeared.
A staff.
Formed from dense, concentrated cursed energy.
Dark.
Sleek.
Alive with power.
Oden gripped it firmly.
Gojo's grin widened instantly.
"…Ooh. Now we're getting somewhere."
"What's that?" he asked, almost eagerly.
Oden lifted the weapon slightly.
"…Heaven-Defying Staff."
The name alone seemed to carry weight.
"It can grow," Oden continued. "Shrink. Change length at will."
Gojo nodded along, amused.
"Handy."
"But that's not what matters."
Oden's grip tightened.
A low hum vibrated through the air.
"…It nullifies cursed energy."
Silence.
For the first time—
The space around Gojo felt… tense.
"On contact," Oden finished.
The implication landed.
Clear.
Direct.
Lethal.
Gojo exhaled slowly.
Then—
He smiled.
Wide.
Genuine.
"…So it's like the Inverted Spear of Heaven."
A pause.
"…But worse."
He rolled his shoulders once, loosening up.
"Man," he muttered, almost to himself.
"…I thought this was going to be boring."
Then he looked at Oden again.
Excitement unmistakable now.
"…Guess I was wrong."
The wind shifted violently, as if the world itself had braced for impact.
Oden moved first.
His hand rose and he tore the blindfold from his eyes.
For a split second, the world seemed to react.
Those eyes.
Black sclera swallowing the light. A golden iris gleaming with predatory clarity. And within it, a thin red slit, sharp as a blade.
Awareness expanded instantly.
Heat signatures. Micro-movements. Air displacement. Intent.
Everything.
Across from him—
Satoru Gojo smiled.
"…Well, that's interesting."
Then, almost lazily—
He removed his own blindfold.
Blue.
Endless.
Depth beyond comprehension.
"…Guess we're both cheating, huh?" Gojo added casually.
Oden didn't reply.
He was already moving.
The ground shattered beneath his step.
A blur.
The Heaven-Defying Staff extended mid-swing, elongating with violent precision as Oden closed the distance instantly.
The staff reached.
And for the first time—
It connected.
A clean strike across Gojo's side.
A second—
Cracking against his shoulder.
A third—
Driving forward toward his neck.
Each blow carried force enough to splinter reinforced concrete.
Each one landed.
The air rippled violently.
Shockwaves burst outward, tearing through nearby structures. Windows exploded. Walls fractured. The street caved under the pressure.
And yet—
Gojo stood.
Unmoved.
"…Nice," he said lightly, adjusting his stance as if brushing off dust. "You can actually hit me."
Oden's eyes narrowed.
He didn't stop.
The staff shrank, then expanded again mid-motion, switching tempo unpredictably. He spun, pivoted, redirected his momentum seamlessly.
A flurry.
Precision over power.
Every strike calculated.
Every movement deliberate.
He moved like someone who had already fought this battle a thousand times in his head.
Gojo blocked one strike with his forearm.
Another with the back of his hand.
A third—
He simply leaned away from, the staff passing his face by millimeters.
"…Your weapon's doing most of the work," Gojo commented casually.
Oden pressed forward.
Faster.
Sharper.
He vaulted upward, using a collapsing wall as footing, launching himself onto the rooftop above. The staff extended again, snapping forward like a spear from above.
Gojo vanished.
Reappeared behind him.
Kick.
Oden twisted mid-air, barely blocking as the impact sent him skidding across the rooftop, tiles exploding beneath him.
He landed.
Recovered instantly.
Attacked again.
The staff whipped forward. Shrinking, extending, shifting length unpredictably. A weapon that defied rhythm.
And still—
Gojo smiled.
He sidestepped.
Parried.
Ducked.
Each movement minimal.
Efficient.
Effortless.
They blurred across rooftops. Two figures tearing through the skyline, their clash sending debris raining down into the streets below.
Oden's strikes grew sharper.
Faster.
But—
His breathing changed.
Slightly heavier.
Slightly uneven.
Gojo noticed immediately.
"…There it is."
Oden didn't respond.
He lunged again.
Gojo caught the staff this time.
Not stopping it—
But redirecting it just enough that it missed his centerline.
Then—
A flick to Oden's wrist.
A shift in his footing.
And suddenly—
Oden was off-balance.
A palm struck his chest.
Oden flew back, crashing through a rooftop structure before skidding to a halt.
Silence followed.
Gojo stepped forward slowly.
"…You've got talent," he said. "Real talent."
Oden pushed himself up.
Eyes locked.
Unyielding.
"…But your fundamentals are a mess."
A pause.
Gojo raised a finger.
"Your cursed energy output spikes too much when you attack," he explained, tone almost like a teacher now. "You're wasting energy on impact instead of reinforcing your structure."
Oden said nothing.
"Your flow is inconsistent," Gojo continued. "You're forcing control instead of letting it circulate naturally."
Another step forward.
"And your reinforcement. Honestly? Sloppy."
Oden's grip tightened on the staff.
Gojo tilted his head.
"…You've got a ridiculous amount of cursed energy," he said. "But you're using it like a kid swinging a hammer."
A beat.
"You hit hard," Gojo admitted. "But you don't understand how you're hitting."
Oden's jaw clenched.
Frustration.
Sharp.
He dashed forward again.
Faster than before.
The staff extended violently. Aiming straight for Gojo's head.
Gojo didn't dodge.
Didn't block.
He simply—
Moved slightly.
The staff passed.
Barely missing.
Gojo's hand tapped Oden's shoulder.
"Too predictable."
Oden twisted—
Struck again—
Gojo slipped past it.
Tapped his side.
"Too stiff."
Another strike—
Another miss—
Gojo stepped inside his range.
Tapped his chest.
"Too desperate."
Oden skidded back, breath heavier now.
His eyes burned.
Not with fear.
With frustration.
Because he could feel it.
The gap.
Not small.
Not manageable.
Vast.
Unreachable.
Gojo stretched slightly, rolling his shoulders.
"…You're strong," he said. "Stronger than most."
A pause.
Then—
"But I'm not most."
Silence fell again.
Oden steadied his stance.
Staff in hand.
Eyes locked forward.
And for the first time—
He understood.
This wasn't a wall.
This wasn't an obstacle.
This was a peak.
And he was nowhere near the top.
Gojo smiled.
"…Still wanna try?"
---
Find early chapters on my patreon
[Patreon.com/tenten100?]
Follow me on Instagram [www.instagram.com/tenten100_?]