"Ngh!"
Seijuro's eyes fluttered open. His vision was hazy, blurring light and shapes until it began to stabilize. As his focus sharpened, he froze in place.
What greeted him wasn't the ruined street he remembered or the faces of Kaori and Jin. Instead, he saw an infinite expanse of space—a boundless, star-filled void where celestial bodies drifted in silence.
Planets rotated lazily in the distance, some glowing with radiant light while others were shrouded in shadow. Surrounding him were portals, each like shimmering, liquid mirrors, displaying moving images of unfamiliar worlds and events.
"Just where am I?" Seijuro muttered, his voice barely audible against the overwhelming stillness of the cosmic plane.
His heart raced. The last thing he remembered was fighting Mahito. How did he end up here?
"Good day, Seijuro Gojo."
The deep, commanding voice jolted him. Seijuro spun around instinctively, his stance defensive, his crimson eyes narrowing.
An elderly man sat upon a grand, imposing throne made of an intricate mesh of glowing blue crystals and gold. His very presence demanded attention. His sharp, regal features—deep-set eyes, high cheekbones, and an angular jawline—were accented by his striking, silver hair that flowed like a river of light.
Though old, he emanated an undeniable power as though time had only honed his strength. His attire was equally commanding: a black, high-collared robe with intricate red and gold embroidery that seemed to shimmer as though alive.
"Who?" Seijuro muttered, his confusion deepening as he tensed further.
The old man's lips curled into a faint smirk, his sharp gaze piercing through Seijuro as if he were a mere speck in the cosmos.
"Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg," the man said, his voice resonating with an air of authority and mystery. "Nice to meet you, Type Earth."
Seijuro raised an eyebrow, his confusion mounting. "Type...Earth?"
The man's smirk widened, his amusement evident. "Nothing you need to dwell on. Not yet. We're running out of time, so let me make this brief."
Seijuro clenched his fists, frustration bubbling up inside him. The cryptic words and the surreal environment made him feel like he was grasping at straws.
"What are you talking about? Who are you really, and what is this place?" Seijuro asked.
Ignoring Seijuro's outburst, Zelretch leaned forward, his expression serious now. "Remember this, Seijuro Gojo: Earth is your domain. It bends to your will. Manipulate it. Command it. Understand it. That power will be your greatest weapon and, perhaps, curse."
Seijuro's jaw tightened, his crimson eyes narrowing. "What the hell are you talking about? How do I—"
Zelretch raised a hand, silencing him with a simple gesture. "You'll learn. For now, resist your impulses. The ones that call for destruction. Resist them, especially when blood is spilled, or you'll lose yourself."
Seijuro's eyes widened. The words struck a chord deep within him, dredging up something primal, something he'd been trying to ignore. He remembered the battle with Mahito—how his instincts screamed for destruction, how he had relished the release of energy. Was that what the old man meant?
"What does that mean?" Seijuro demanded, his voice rising with urgency. "What impulses? Why should I trust anything you're saying?"
Zelretch simply smiled, a knowing expression that offered no answers. "You'll understand soon enough. That's all for now. Farewell, Type Earth."
"Wait!" Seijuro shouted, stepping forward.
But before he could take another step, his vision flickered, and everything went black. The celestial expanse, the planets, the portals, and the enigmatic man—all of it vanished in an instant.
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"Seijuro-san!"
The voice jolted Seijuro from the void of unconsciousness. His crimson eyes snapped open, and he blinked a few times, trying to orient himself. He was back in his hotel room.
"Seijuro-san!"
Jin's frantic voice called out again as the man shook him with enough force to make his vision blur.
"Stop! You're making me dizzy," Seijuro groaned, gripping Jin's shoulders to steady him.
"Ah, I'm sorry," Jin said, stepping back, his expression filled with relief and worry.
Seijuro took a deep breath and sat upright, scanning Jin from head to toe. His gaze settled on the bandages wrapped around Jin's torso and arms. "You're injured... are you okay?"
Jin nodded, managing a small smile. "It hurts, but I'm fine now."
Seijuro's eyes narrowed. "What happened?"
Jin's expression darkened as he recounted the events. "A man named Kenjaku attacked us. He tried to kill me and Kurosaki-san, but... somehow, I managed to hold him off."
One of Seijuro's eyebrows arched. Hold him off? That's not something just anyone could do—especially not someone like Jin, who claimed to have no fighting experience.
"That's impressive, Itadori-san, especially when you've never been in a fight before," Seijuro said, his voice tinged with genuine surprise.
Jin scratched the back of his head, his expression sheepish. "Thanks... but honestly, I don't even know how I did it. At that moment, it felt like I just... knew what to do, like I'd fought before. I can't explain it."
Seijuro stroked his chin thoughtfully. 'Is it because he's Sukuna's unborn twin? But that doesn't add up—Sukuna consumed his twin brother before birth. Unless... Kenjaku did something. Could he have tampered with Jin's soul when orchestrating Sukuna's resurrection?' he thought.
"Seijuro-san," Jin's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Do you have any idea what I just felt?"
Seijuro sighed and leaned back slightly, folding his arms. "I think it's your instinct."
"Instinct?" Jin echoed, tilting his head.
"Yes, instinct," Seijuro began, keeping his voice measured and calm. "It's a primal response, something buried deep in all of us. When you're in a life-or-death situation, your conscious mind takes a backseat, and your body reacts based on what it knows or remembers. It's your survival mechanism."
Jin's brow furrowed as he tried to process the explanation. "So... you're saying it wasn't me thinking? It was my body reacting?"
"Exactly," Seijuro replied. "But here's the interesting part—most people's instincts are limited to running away, dodging, or basic survival tactics. What you're describing is different. You weren't just reacting; you were fighting. And not just fighting—you were doing it with precision."
Jin looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers as if trying to recall the movements. "It felt... natural. Like I've done it a thousand times before. But that doesn't make sense. I've never even thrown a punch at someone before."
"That's what makes this so unusual," Seijuro said, his tone thoughtful. "It's as if your body has some... latent memory. Something deeper than instinct—almost like muscle memory from a past life."
Jin's eyes widened slightly at the suggestion. "Past life? You mean like reincarnation?"
Seijuro hesitated for a moment, carefully choosing his words. He didn't want to overwhelm Jin with his lineage with Sukuna and Kenjaku just yet.
"Possibly. Or it could be tied to your lineage. Sometimes, abilities or knowledge can resurface in descendants or reincarnations under extreme circumstances."
Jin's jaw tightened, and his expression was curious and unease. "So... what does that mean for me?"
Seijuro leaned forward, meeting Jin's gaze with a faint smirk. "It means you have potential. But potential without control is dangerous. You'll need to train if you want to protect Kurosaku—and yourself. You need to take that instinct and turn it into something you can rely on."
Jin's expression hardened with determination. "Then train me, Seijuro-san. I don't want to be caught off guard again. I want to be strong enough to protect her."
Seijuro nodded, impressed by Jin's resolve. "Good. That's the first step. It won't be easy, but I'll ensure you're ready."
As Jin sat quietly, his fists clenched with renewed determination, Seijuro's gaze shifted to the window. 'This training will be crucial if Jin's instincts are connected to Sukuna. Kenjaku's interest in him isn't random—there's more at play here, and we need to be ready for whatever comes next.'
-Creak!
Seijuro and Jin turned their attention to the door as it opened, revealing Kaori standing there with a food tray in her hands.
"Sup," Kaori said casually as she stepped inside.
"Sup," Seijuro and Jin echoed simultaneously, though their voices carried a tired undertone.
Seijuro tilted his head, raising an eyebrow at her. "Where were you?"
Kaori shrugged as she placed the tray on a nearby table. "Just grabbing some breakfast. You guys seemed busy, so I thought I'd let you rest."
She settled into a chair, crossing her legs, and turned her sharp gaze toward Seijuro. "So, who was that woman, Seijuro-san?"
Seijuro's brows furrowed in confusion. "Woman?"
Kaori and Jin exchanged a glance before Kaori leaned forward, recounting everything. "Yeah, you know, the one who appeared earlier? The surroundings changed into some white flower field with a massive castle in the background. She had long blonde hair and crimson eyes and wore this elegant white dress. She walked right up to Kenjaku and Mahito, and they—well, they looked terrified. She scared them off like it was nothing."
Jin nodded, adding, "Yeah, it felt like we were paralyzed just by her presence. She didn't even need to fight them. And you—" Jin hesitated, his tone growing more concerned. "You were... frozen. Like a puppet whose strings had been cut."
Seijuro's crimson eyes widened in shock. "What?"
Kaori crossed her arms, her brow furrowing. "Yeah, you were just standing there, completely motionless. It was weird. We thought you'd passed out on your feet or something."
Seijuro leaned back, rubbing his chin in thought. A woman that powerful? Someone capable of paralyzing both Kenjaku and Mahito without lifting a finger? That was no ordinary entity. And the fact that he had been immobilized didn't sit well with him. Who was she? What was she?
He sighed heavily. "I... don't know who or what you're talking about. A woman with that kind of power... if she scared off Kenjaku and Mahito, then she's beyond anything I've encountered so far."
Jin frowned, his concern deepening. "Seijuro-san, if she can do that, does that mean she's on our side?"
Kaori narrowed her eyes skeptically. "Or is she just another threat? You're telling us you have no idea who she is? Not even a guess?"
Seijuro shook his head, frustration gnawing at him. "No. I don't recognize her from anything I've read or heard about. And if I was frozen the way you said, then... something more is happening here."
Kaori leaned back, her arms still crossed. "Well, that's comforting. First, we're attacked by a stitched-up psycho and his blob army, and now there's some mysterious goddess-level woman playing chess with us as her pawns."
Seijuro smirked faintly despite himself. "Let's not jump to conclusions. If she wanted to harm you, she would've done it already."
Kaori huffed, not entirely reassured, while Jin quietly observed, clearly deep in thought.
Seijuro stood up, brushing his fingers through his white hair as he paced the room. "For now, let's stick to the plan. We'll regroup and focus on training. If this woman appears again, we'll deal with her when the time comes."
Kaori sighed but nodded reluctantly. "Fine. But you better figure out who or what she is soon, Seijuro-san. I'm not interested in being caught off guard again."
Seijuro glanced at her and gave a firm nod. "Trust me, I'll figure it out."
But as he turned away, his thoughts remained troubled. Whoever that woman was, she held immense power—power that could either save or destroy them all. For now, though, he had to focus on what he could control. One mystery at a time.
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"Well, that plan was a bust," Mahito muttered, reclining lazily on a beach chair, his grin faint but laced with irritation.
Kenjaku, seated next to him, appeared deep in thought, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. Dagon, sprawled on the sandy ground of his innate domain, groaned softly, his tentacles idly twitching.
"Indeed," Kenjaku finally spoke, calm and measured, "but setbacks are to be expected. It doesn't mean the plan is over. We will proceed."
Mahito's grin widened, though his tone was dripping with mockery. "Oh? So we're moving forward with a suicide mission now, huh? That woman almost turned me into a statue, and you want me to just dive right back into this mess?"
Kenjaku chuckled, his demeanor unshaken. "No, Mahito. Suicide would imply recklessness. And recklessness isn't in my nature. The woman made it clear, didn't she? She warned you not to harm Seijuro Gojo. She didn't, however, say anything about Kaori."
Mahito tilted his head, his grin faltering momentarily as he considered Kenjaku's words. "So... we don't touch the Gojo brat, but we find a way to separate Kaori from him. Is that what you're saying?"
"Precisely," Kenjaku replied, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. "The woman's presence complicates things, yes. But she's not omnipresent. We'll eliminate interference if we lure Kaori away from Gojo and his allies. Kaori is the key to my plans, and I'll have her one way or another."
Dagon groaned, shifting slightly on the sand. "Bwoo... but the Gojo clan is always watching her now... and that hotel. Getting close is dangerous."
Kenjaku leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk on his lips. "We don't need to get close. We need to make her come to us. A carefully crafted lure—something personal, something emotional—that will make her step away willingly."
Mahito snickered, his twisted grin returning. "Oh, I like the sound of that. Emotional manipulation is my specialty."
Kenjaku nodded, his eyes gleaming with cold calculation. "We'll plant seeds of doubt, create a scenario she can't ignore. Something that will force her to act on her own. She'll be vulnerable once she's separated from Gojo and his allies."
Dagon muttered softly, "Bwoo... what if Gojo comes after her again?"
Kenjaku's smirk grew darker. "That's the beauty of this plan. If executed correctly, we'll make Kaori's departure seem like her choice. Gojo won't even realize she's gone until it's too late. And if he does... well, I'll ensure that Kaori is already mine by then."
Mahito clapped his hands together, a theatrical display of enthusiasm. "Oh, this is going to be fun. Breaking people is much more entertaining when they walk into the trap themselves."
Kenjaku turned his gaze to the horizon of Dagon's beach domain, the light of the moon reflecting in his calculating eyes. "Then let's get started. We have work to do."