It was a surprisingly simple thing to alter the world, or, more significantly, to overturn someone's life. A stone shifted here, a pebble moved there—rolling down a mountainside, these seemingly minor actions could unleash disastrous consequences on anyone unlucky enough to be in their path.
He found himself pondering where everything had taken a wrong turn. What the first pebble had been. Looking back, the signs should have been clear. Yet, he had chosen to overlook them, shutting his eyes to reality. He had become oblivious to the rapid changes that had been happening around him, opting instead to remain passive. His passivity and preference for reaction had been a curse in his past life as well. And just like before, he didn't learn until now the fruits of that decision were laid bare to him. The amount of things that had happened in the past few days had been... devastating.
The partial destruction of the school by a falling meteor, the war between sorcerers and curses in Shinjuku and Kyoto, Shoko's disappearance—or more accurately, kidnapping...
If the sole witness could be believed, the culprit was none other than Toji Fushiguro—The first pebble. Once again, it felt like his past was catching up to him. Yet, instead of a scorned brother, it was an enemy—one who had helped him sharpen his edge in a battle that almost killed him.
Movement drew his eyes downward, and he noticed his fingers tapping against his forearm. A nervous tick, perhaps? He remembered the sight of the amphitheater . It looked like a whirlwind had blown through the room leaving nothing but destruction and broken bodies in its wake, but the most curious thing was the lack of deaths.
He doubted the scarred mercenary had suddenly grown a conscience and decided to spare them. No, like any trained shinobi, he had read dossiers on the man after their first encounter, analyzing and breaking down his psych profile as he had been taught in the dark depths of the Anbu corps.
From that exhaustive process, he had reached a simple conclusion: Toji Fushiguro was a mad amalgamation of Hoshigaki Kisame and Kakuzu of the Hidden Waterfall. He harbored a deep love for battle, eagerly matching blows with anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path, but he had a preferred prey: the strong.
Toji relished the euphoria that came with crushing the truly powerful, actively seeking contracts or jobs that put him in their sights. A weird quirk that no doubt was a result of something dark that happened in his past. His survival despite engaging in near-suicidal battles was a testament to his unparalleled prowess.
Yet, battle lust was only one part of his character. Equally as pronounced was his love of money. With a mindset so profit-oriented, if not for his birth into one of the three sorcerer families, Toji Fushiguro—the sorcerer killer, designated as Hyper Lethal—could have easily become a cutthroat businessman.
The mental image of the scarred giant in a pinstripe business suit would have been almost amusing, if not for the grim reality that prompted this contemplation: Shoko's kidnapping.
Toji had opted against killing the sorcerers for a straightforward reason, one that seemed almost comically simple in hindsight: there was nothing to gain from it. None of them provided the thrill of facing a formidable opponent, nor did any possess a notable bounty.
Moreover, he had a particular interest in Shoko for reasons unknown. Killing her former guardians or those she had invested time and effort in healing would have been reckless.
"Jiki," A stern voice called out, and even in the depth of his contemplation he recognized the owner easily, for all that they had not had the chance to interact much. "we've found him."
"Have you now?"
"yes," The stern voice continued and its owner approached with another person in tow.
"Good." Jiki didn't bother inquiring about the identity; after all, he had requested for the search himself: Shiu Kong. With seamless grace, he transitioned from a seated position to standing.
"And the others?" He questioned, finally opening his eyes and directing his gaze up at Principal Yagi and Emi, who had halted before him. The principal's features were stern, unmistakably showing his displeasure. It didn't require a mastery over reading body language to discern his displeasure.
Jiki understood. One of the man's students had gone rogue and nearly destroyed Jujutsu High, another had been kidnapped while he was on patrol, and the third was missing. Satoru had vanished after Yuta confirmed Geto's demise at the hands of a special-grade curse and human sorcerer.
Despite the urgency of immediately pursuing Geto's missing body upon his arrival, Satoru had prioritized rescuing his severely injured students instead. Now that he had gone missing, It didn't take a genius to tell he was trying to make up for the time he had spent caring for his students in his search for Geto.
"Still healing, even Maki. She seems to be paying the cost for the technique she used to run riot over Shinjuku," Emi remarked this time. He ignored the pointed stare from the duo.
It had come as a surprise to discover that Maki had finally unlocked the Gate of Life. He had felt the surge of power that accompanied its release during his battle with Tamamo-no-Mae. However, in a confrontation with a special-grade opponent, any distraction, no matter how slight, could prove fatal, so he had quickly pushed that thought aside.
"Toge and Panda remain in critical condition, They were caught at the edge of the meteor's fall. Yuta, while physically unharmed, has depleted his nearly inexhaustible reserve of cursed energy," Emi reported grimly.
A lie.
He couldn't tell which of the particular statements was the lie, but in between that speech, a lie was laced. The realization brought a deep frown to his brows, one that he smoothed away seconds later instead of allowing his worry to show. They needed to find Shoko now more than ever.
"We've called in Arata Nitta, a prospective student with a very valuable innate curse technique. While not a gifted healer on the level of Ierie, he should be able to prevent the injuries from worsening," Principal Yagi added in an attempt to soften the blow that was the news.
"What did Satoru say about Ierie rescue before he disappeared?" Jiki asked as he smoothed out the wrinkles that had formed on his cloth while he sat.
Principal Yagi gave him a look that was visible even behind his glasses before he replied, "He said he trusts you."
Those words sparked a memory that came easily.
It was his birthday. They sat in the grass, just him and Satoru, and they watched everyone else laugh and celebrate. They had sat apart and watched them, and in that moment Satoru said something. "It's lonely at the top you know."
He had seen how much it had weighed on the older white-haired boy. Feeling so apart even when together, forced to always stand apart due to his own immense strength, forced to shoulder the burden of power alone lest it crush people he saw as friends. The title of a prodigy was an immense thing.
So Jiki had resolved to not allow Satoru to bear that weight alone despite his original plan of living a carefree life, and he made an oath. A binding vow that had forced the world to hold Its breath. "You won't be alone for long."
So Jiki gave the man a sharp nod in response. "Where is he? Toji Fushiguro's handler."
Principal Yagi smoothly retrieved a file from under his coat, and Jiki accepted it, swiftly flipping it open. His Sharingan absorbed the words and images like ink on parchment, imprinting them into his mind as he rapidly scanned through the dossier. After what seemed like mere moments, he snapped it shut and handed it back to the older man, whose surprise was evident even through his glasses.
"Hokkaido Prefecture, then. I'll take care of it," he replied, dismissing the still-surprised Principal and the more subdued Emi with a curt nod. He spun on his heel and began to stride away.
"You won't be going alone," Principal Yagi's voice found strength as Jiki paused. Without needing to ask, Jiki turned his head to silently prompt the principal to continue.
"I need to manage the school and deal with the Zenin clan and others inquiring about Maki. So Emi and Ijichi will accompany you. Both are familiar with the Prefecture and should be able to assist you somewhat," Principal Yagi explained.
Jiki considered this briefly before nodding in acknowledgment. There was another player in Shoko's kidnapping; the witness had described a giant bird with magnificent feathers. Taking the words of a concussed man seriously was risky, but it was their only lead. Toji had an accomplice, possibly a shikigami or another adept in curse manipulation.
Before Jiki could delve further into his thoughts, Principal Yagi spoke again, causing Jiki to freeze in place once more, waiting for the principal's next words.
"There's something they want you to know as well, Jiki," Principal Yagi continued. Jiki remained still, waiting for the older man to proceed. He already had a suspicion about who 'they' were.
"They want him dead," Principal Yagi stated plainly. Jiki didn't respond; instead, he resumed walking, navigating through the aftermath of Geto's destructive rampage on the school. A quarter of the campus lay in ruins, transformed into a desolate crater. The remaining buildings stood as shattered reminders, awaiting demolition.
The blast had been contained to only a quarter of the school, likely due to Geto's calculated attack and timely activation of defensive barriers by Tengen-sama. It had saved the institution from the full force of a special-grade curse maximum technique.
Soon, the soft patter of Emi's footsteps followed behind him as she joined his stride, stopping where he paused at the remnants of the school gates.
A black sedan pulled up, and Ijichi, visibly fatigued, waved at them from the driver's seat. Jiki nodded in acknowledgment before sliding into the vehicle and closing his eyes. Emi did the same and moments later the engine hummed to life, and the car moved forward with a gentle lurch.
A little while after, Jiki opened his eyes to find Emi stealing glances at him. Finally, he broached the question that had been on his mind.
"Tell me about Shinjuku, and more importantly, about Maki activating the gates."
Emi's expression softened, and she began recounting the events with a renewed sense of clarity and detail. Jiki closed his eyes once more, allowing Emi's narrative to paint a vivid picture of the chaos in Shinjuku.
…
They entered the hospital where Tsumiki lay in a peaceful slumber. Their footsteps were calm and deliberate, though Megumi appeared eager to hasten their pace. Despite his apparent urgency, the boy restrained himself with remarkable self-control as they continued their leisurely walk.
Once inside, the medical staff and security cast only fleeting glances at them. Even a security guard who had been approaching diverted his attention elsewhere upon spotting the intimidating figure of Toji behind Megumi and Shoko.
Ierie, noticing the reactions, removed the lit cigarette from her lips and extinguished it on a nearby table before disposing of it in a bin.
"Seems like you've got them whipped," she remarked casually as they ascended the stairs leading to Tsumiki's room.
Upon opening the door, Ierie's typically composed demeanor faltered as she exclaimed with more emotion than she usually possessed, "Fuck."
"What's wrong?!" Megumi broke the silence that followed her outburst, while Toji closed the door behind him and leaned against the wall, waiting for her response.
Ierie hurriedly approached the comatose girl, running a hand through her hair in apparent distress. "I don't expect much from the boy, considering he was raised by you, but you should have known this isn't just a coma."
Toji disregarded Megumi's questioning glance, silently acknowledging the truth in Ierie's words. He had known from the start that this was no ordinary coma; it was the primary reason he had sought Ierie's help. His stepdaughter was...
"Cursed," Ierie stated, voicing his thoughts.
Stepping back from Tsumiki's bedside, Ierie turned to face them, her expression grave. "We've seen several cases like this over the past few years. People falling into sudden comas. It's likely a curse technique, But that's all we know for now."
"What are you trying to say? How do we not know about this?" Megumi's voice held a growl of frustration, though the woman barely acknowledged him, continuing to speak as she took a seat beside Tsumiki's still form.
"Because it was actively covered up, and it didn't last long. It was a brief phenomenon that died down as quickly as it started," she explained calmly.
"So what now?" Toji interjected, giving his distressed son a moment to regain his composure. Unlike Megumi's growl, his tone carried a weight that she had to take more seriously, even if she remained composed as ever.
The woman shrugged, sinking deeper into her chair. "Right now, I need a cigarette, because I don't think there's much I can do."
"Then you're not much use to us," Toji noted in a low tone, his expression smoothing into a mask of stoicism. For the second time, her unflappable demeanor cracked slightly.
"Well, maybe I spoke too soon," she replied with a tight smile, her attention returning to Tsumiki's prone form.
That was good enough for Toji. He closed his eyes, trusting the healer to either find a way to save the child Kahoru had brought into this world, or he would simply kill her and find someone else.
….
The car ride proved more interesting than his previous one with Ijichi. Emi spun a tale of resilience that was difficult to match. She portrayed Maki as an unstoppable force, slicing through curses like a hot knife through butter. Her exploits had garnered attention, with each curse slain and life saved marked as a testament to her prowess.
"People have noticed," Emi continued, her tone thoughtful. "They've begun asking questions—questions about why she remains a Grade 4 sorcerer despite her achievements, especially after the Thousand Demons Parade."
He finally opened his eyes at that, turning to regard Emi. She had a knack for blending into the background, a skill he had observed keenly. He wondered what circumstances had honed such a talent.
"I've heard whispers too, Jiki," she continued. "Talks about these gates and what they could achieve in more capable hands than those of a banished and cripple Zenin child."
Her words brought a smile to his lips, though it was far from a pleasant one judging by the looks Emi and even Ijichi shot his way through the rearview mirror.
"Let them try," he replied evenly, smoothing his features back into their usual impassive mask. With any luck, they'd kill enough of themselves trying to recreate it before discarding their pride and coming to them. There was a reason why, despite how powerful the Inner Gates were, there had been less than five users in its whole history. Not even Itachi had bothered with the fickle technique; for all he knew, and he understood it inside out.
"We're here," Ijichi called out, stopping in front of a building ablaze with a cascade of lights pouring from its single guarded door, where two hefty bouncers in shaved heads and tight muscle shirts stood watch. A line had formed outside, its participants eager to join the writhing masses within.
Jiki opened the door and stepped out, giving Ijichi a glance as Emi emerged from the opposite side. The older man appeared more haggard and tired than usual, the weariness adding years to his countenance. Yet he had insisted on helping them instead of delegating the task to one of his lower-level managers.
"Thank you once again, Ijichi-san," Jiki said with a curt bow, Emi quickly mimicking the gesture beside him. Ignoring the wide-eyed look from Ijichi, Jiki turned on his heel and headed towards the club.
It was a short walk. He was dressed in casual attire, having abandoned his traditional clothes damaged by Tamamo-no-Mae. Now clad in black slacks and a high-collared shirt, with black shades concealing his scarlet eyes, his outfit resembled Satoru's usual attire.
They reached the entrance without drawing much attention until they did. The bouncer on the right turned towards them, apprehension evident. He stretched out his hand, attempting to halt their advance.
"There's a line, you should—" The words were cut off as Jiki tilted his glasses just the thinnest bit, allowing eye contact with the man and sending in the genjutsu packet he had primed for release. A sense warping genjutsu, one that made them invincible to the person.
After that, they slipped into the club with none the wiser, not even the second bouncer.
The sound that blared out from the inside was an attack on his finely tuned senses, and he was forced to immediately cushion what felt like a physical blow with cursed energy.
When he finally recovered, he noted the protective position Emi claimed above him, sending flat stares at anyone who looked their way, while gripping her still-sheathed sword tightly. It took him a second to realize she was trying her best to mimic him.
He tapped her hand, and she eased out of the position, turning to him with a worried look in her eyes.
"I'm fine," he replied, answering the unasked question. Before his own eyes roved the crowd and mass of dancing and clubbing participants. Coupled with the blaring music and strobing lights that danced and moved everywhere, he was left wondering how anybody could stay here for longer than a minute.
It took him longer than expected to spot the man, especially with the distractions that tried their best to confuse him. He finally spotted the black-haired man at the bar, drinking and pressing down on his phone, and with a nod at Emi, he began to walk.
Cutting a path through the mass was harder to do with his teenage frame, and it took some level of self-control not to start tossing bodies to the side.
They finally got to the man, and even without drawing his attention, the man slowly turned his seat as they got close, his eyes widening the moment he saw Jiki.
Recognition.
"We would like to speak to you, Shui Kong," Jiki stated firmly.
The man jerked up from the bar stool and bolted.
Jiki only let out a sigh before triggering the genjutsu packet he had laced into the man's system the moment their eyes locked forcing the black-suited man to drop like a bag of bricks to the ground, and amid the chaos that was the club, no one could be bothered to pay attention to him.
Jiki walked up to the man and lifted him over his shoulder, raising a brow as he could feel the man's physique hidden underneath the baggy suits he wore. The man was a fighter, or used to be one.
It didn't take them long to find the restroom, and he threw the man onto the piss-stained tiled floors without any real care. The shock of the man's body slamming into the ground broke the hold the genjutsu had on him, and he bolted to his feet a second later, staring at Emi and Jiki with wide eyes.
"Where is Toji Fushiguro?"
The man diverted his eyes the moment he realized how stupid he had been to look him in the eyes once more.
"I don't know who you're talking about."
Jiki allowed an eyebrow to tilt once more as he studied the man. He was an open book to a shinobi of Jiki's caliber. The way his heartbeat sped up, his eyes darted to the floor, his hands slowly reaching for something behind him— a weapon? Shui Kong knew where the sorcerer killer was.
He had not expected the handler to be a principled man, a man of conviction and loyalty. Yet it didn't matter all the same; Jiki would have what he came here for anyway.
The man jerked his hand out from his coat pocket with startling speed. At least, it would have been startling if Jiki had not seen it coming seconds ago. Yet he stood unmoving as the weapon—a gun, he identified—left its place in its holster and slowly moved to aim at him.
Jiki didn't attempt to dodge or move, but Emi did. She dashed out from where she had been half-behind him, her body low to the ground as Shui Kong registered the more immediate threat that was the black-haired girl. Unfortunately for the man, Emi was faster.
She was in his guard before he could re-aim the gun, and she unsheathed her blade and struck with one smooth motion. The fingers that had held the gun went sailing into the air, just as the girl spun on the spot and held the bloodied blade to his throat.
Everywhere was silent for a few seconds before the clattering of fingers and the gun falling on the piss-stained tiles rang out. The suited man's only reaction to the loss of fingers was a grunt, with the blade so close to his throat.
Jiki approached the man with calculated intent, gripping his head firmly by the jaw. "I'm not a violent person, Shiu-san," he began, his voice steady and measured, "Neither do i need physical violence to get what i need. So you will tell me where Toji Fushiguro is, and you'll tell me now."
The man refused to speak, his face a mask of stone as he showed his defiance. Jiki let out an uncaring shrug as he tilted the man's face towards his. "Fine then, I will have the location either way." This was a risk, but he didn't have the time to waste on more mundane means of getting the information he desired. He forced the man's eyes open as his own shifted rapidly from three slowly moving pinwheels to a three-bladed shape.
"Tsukuyomi."
It took thirty seconds, but the man broke all the same, and Jiki and Emi left the club and the man's broken form behind with a destination: Osaka. The hunt was on.