"Prison Realm, Open!" Kenzo commanded, flinging the artifact onto the ground. It shattered with a dramatic crackle, releasing a surge of dark energy that coalesced into a figure. Stepping out of the swirling mist was none other than Gojo Satoru, the Six-Eyed King, now standing tall before his student.
While still radiating the unmistakable aura of Gojo, something had changed. His previously loose-fitting clothes now clung to a noticeably leaner, more muscular build. Gone was the trademark floppy hair, replaced by a sharp cut that framed his playful but resolute features.
Kenzo raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering in his usually stoic expression. "Well, Sensei, seems you made good use of your unexpected vacation. When did you find the time to hit the gym and switch stylists?"
Gojo flashed a mischievous grin, his six-eyed gaze sparkling like sapphires. "Turns out, there was a skeleton barber trapped inside the Prison Realm – cleanest cut you'd ever ask for, literally to the bone!"
Kenzo's lips twitched. "So, are you telling me you spent your 'imprisonment' sculpting six-pack abs and working on your hairdo?"
Gojo flexed, causing his shirt to strain across his newfound biceps. "Just showing off my recent gains, student. What do you think?"
Kenzo sighed, unable to suppress a small smile. "Childish, as always."
"But undeniably charming," Gojo countered, winking, a playful lilt in his voice. "Remember, you adore me – just not as much as I adore myself."
The tension was thick as Gojo's sharp eyes narrowed, suddenly fixated on the swirling remnants of Mahito's domain. "Who's that?" he demanded, his voice losing its usual playful lilt.
Kenzo, ever the pragmatist, filled him in. "Mahito's domain. He's currently battling the one who took over your friend."
Gojo's expression shifted from surprise to recognition. "Ah, the patchy-faced curse. So, he's finally made his move."
Kenzo nodded, a deep furrow etching his brow. "No,he is my shadow soldier now"
A beat of silence passed, charged with unspoken emotions. Then, Gojo turned to Kenzo with a mischievous grin. "Popcorn? I'm thinking this needs front-row seats."
Kenzo's sigh was as much exasperated as fond. "Honestly, Satoru, I don't know why I expect anything different from you."
Gojo's grin widened. "No need to change when you're the strongest, right?"
Kenzo scoffed. "About that," he said, his voice gaining a playful edge. "I believe I can currently beat the living daylights out of you, even while passively negating your Infinity."
Gojo's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Well, damn, student. You are a quick learner." He stretched languidly, his joints popping with exaggerated cracks. "Alright then, let's put that theory to the test. Right now."
Kenzo raised an eyebrow. "Are you really that eager to bite the dust?"
Gojo shrugged, his grin unwavering. "Nah, just need to move a bit. You know, get the stiffness out. Nobody likes a stiff man, unless..." he winked, "it's the right situation."
Kenzo's deadpan expression returned. "Really, Satoru? That's how you choose to phrase it?"
"Stiffness, huh?" Kenzo chuckled, the amusement in his voice tinged with a hint of exasperation. "You're the one who's been stuck in a glorified box for the past month, Gojo. Shouldn't you be worried about your own flexibility rather than mine?"
Gojo winked, his playful glint intensifying. "Nah, student. My six eyes can see through any stiffness, even the kind that comes from confinement. Besides, haven't you heard? A little friendly spar is the best way to loosen up those rusty joints."
Kenzo raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge flickering in his eyes. "Friendly, huh? What makes you think I'd go easy on you just because you've been locked away?"
Gojo's grin widened. "Because, deep down, you still crave the thrill of a good fight, don't you? And let's be honest, who else can push you to your limits like I can?"
"Push me to my limits, or push me into the nearest wall?" Kenzo countered, a teasing smile dancing on his lips.
{A/N i repeat this not a BL,it is not a BL}
"Both, perhaps," Gojo chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Think of it as a warm-up before the main event. Besides, who knows, maybe you'll finally manage to land a hit on your ever-so-elusive teacher."
"Bet," Kenzo challenged, a playful glint in his eyes. In a blur of motion, he vanished and reappeared inches before Gojo, landing a well-aimed kick that sent the sorcerer skidding across the dusty warehouse floor.
Their playful sparring had escalated faster than either anticipated. Gone were the taunts and jests; their expressions hardened into masks of focused intensity. Gojo, typically the dominant force, found himself struggling against Kenzo's newfound prowess. Their hands, usually a whirlwind of unpredictable attacks, met in precise blocks and counters.
Every movement from Kenzo seemed effortless, yet carried the deadly grace of a honed predator.
Years of dedicated training under Gojo's tutelage had paid off. While his teacher relied on the absolute defense of his Infinity, Kenzo had perfected the art of hand-to-hand combat, weaving through the gaps in Gojo's barrier with practiced ease. His punches and kicks, infused with potent mana, landed with bone-jarring force, forcing Gojo to abandon his usual carefree fighting style and adopt a more defensive stance.
The air crackled with the impact of their clashes, shockwaves rippling through the warehouse. Dust swirled around them, creating an ethereal haze that mirrored the internal struggle unfolding within the shattered domain.
Despite the intensity, an unspoken understanding thrummed beneath the surface. This wasn't just about who was stronger; it was a crucible, a test of their individual growth and their bond as student and teacher. Every strike, every block, whispered a silent dialogue, pushing each other to new heights.