Chapter Text
I wake up with my forehead stuck to the window and a line of cold drool drying on my chin. Classy.
The cabin lights are dimmed to a sleepy blue. The air is cold, recycled, and smells like the combination of cheap room spray and my school locker room. My whole body feels like I ate something that expired before I was born, which is just my body's way of politely informing me that swallowing four sleeping pills to avoid a complete meltdown was a stupid idea no matter who I am now.
The LCD screen on the seatback in front of me glares in the dark.
8:37 PM October 31st, 2018
I serenely contemplate the notion of jumping out of the plane and swimming the rest of the way to Japan like a sane, logical person. Just opening the emergency door and letting the decompression take me.
Which means I’ve been asleep for… God. Nearly a day?
My head is foggy, packed with cotton wool, but my body is wide awake. It’s that vibrating alertness you get after drinking three espressos on an empty stomach, where your hands should be shaking, and your eyes should ache. But they don’t.
Because it isn’t caffeine.
It’s Cursed Energy—CE for short—running God knows how many circles under my skin. It’s pulsing, but not fluid like water or electricity. It feels like very wet mud. It feels viscous, heavy, and sludge-thick, churning through my veins with a pressure that would kill a normal human. It is way too much for anyone’s comfort, including mine.
Especially mine.
The flight was estimated to be twenty-two hours from Morocco to Japan. I boarded it after acting fake-composed to pass security. I had my phone, my visa, my passport, a change of clothes, and the item I smuggled past the X-ray machines by whispering a single, Cursed-infused word to the guards: "Ignore."
I popped the pills the second I sat down, hoping to skip the anxiety attack.
Now I’m here, suspended thirty thousand feet over the ocean, trying not to twitch out of existence. The businesswoman beside me, who had looked relieved when I initially fell asleep, now looks mildly alarmed. I catch her reflection in the dark window. She sees a tired boy waking up from a nightmare and relaxed.
Joke’s on her; I’m one bright idea away from crashing this plane and swim through the dark ocean to my destination.
I rub my eyes, digging my knuckles into the sockets, and stare at my hands.
Still his hands.
Slightly tan. Slender. Calloused on the palms from gripping a katana handle for months under the African sun. The transformation didn’t fade with sleep. I didn’t wake up back in my dorm room with an unfinished takeout on my bed or my roommate snoring like a chainsaw. Everything is the same: the unfamiliar yet familiar face reflected faintly in the window, the ridiculous amount of CE humming like a lethally fast heartbeat in my chest.
I check my phone again because, somehow, I’m expecting it to lie to me.
8:38 PM. October 31st. 2018.
Still 2018. Still Halloween.
The universe really locked me into nightmare mode now.
I force my leg down before it starts bouncing on its own. One wrong pulse of Cursed Energy, one slip of control, and I’m pretty sure I could crack the armrest. Or the plane. Or the businesswoman’s patience.
The flight map shows we’re somewhere between continents, inching toward Japan at a speed that feels painfully, agonizingly slow despite knowing it’s the fastest way other than stealing a jet and somehow piloting it to crash on Shibuya. My stomach sinks every time I look at the little pixelated plane icon.
Today is October 31st. I know exactly what waits in Shibuya.
A sane person wouldn’t be going there. A sane person would have stayed in Morocco, eating stew with Miguel, and run to Antarctica and pretend the world is not going to burn.
But here I am.
Because staying put felt worse.
Because running away from the worst disaster in the history of the Jujutsu world effectively invites the so-called "Good Ending" known as Canon. And Canon? Canon is a meat grinder. Canon is Nanami being barbecued on one side. Canon is Gojo being a Kit Kat. Canon is a tragedy written in ink that I now have the power to smudge.
The Cursed Energy spikes again, fizzing up my spine like a thousand tiny needles dipped in acid. I exhale through my teeth and try to keep it down, contained, hidden.
It feels like trying to suppress a panic attack while copying answers from the person in front of you during a semester final, keeping one eye on the back of the teacher’s head who might mark you for malpractice and ruin your life.
I press my palms together, interlocking the fingers, and stare down at the faint, grotesque aura glowing under the skin that only I can feel and Circulate it.
I’m supposed to be Yuta Okkotsu, in a way I am.
But I’m not him.
[Shibuya, Near the Tower] [Time: 9:57 pm, shortly after the veil drops]
Ino Takuma was running out of time.
The elderly curse user across the room was nearly finished with her ritual, her lips moving in a feverish, silent chant. Her unfocused eyes shone with a sick kind of anticipation. Ino didn’t know exactly what she was invoking—some kind of seance technique, judging by the atmosphere—but he knew one thing with absolute certainty: letting her finish was a terrible idea.
The real problem was the blond man standing between them.
Calling him "strong" was inaccurate. It was more like fighting a brick wall that punched back. He was the most stubborn son of a bitch Ino had ever faced. The man fought like a curse possessed despite clearly being the weaker sorcerer between them. Ino had switched angles, feinted, redirected, and even driven Kaichi—the spiraling horn of the Auspicious Beast—straight through the man’s arm.
Yet nothing stopped him. He staggered, he bled, he spit teeth onto the floor, but he refused to fall.
“For the love of God, just go down already!” Ino snarled.
He smashed a reinforced elbow into the man’s jaw, finally sending him tumbling sideways. It wasn’t a knockout, but it was enough.
It was the opening he needed.
Ino ignored the pain in his ribs and lunged toward the grandmother—only for a body to crash into him from the side. The blond had recovered instantly, tackling him several meters back across the floor with the desperate strength of a lunatic.
Grimacing, Ino planted his foot, tore the man’s grip free, and drove a Cursed-Energy-packed haymaker square into his chin. The hit sent the man flipping backward until he rolled to a stop beside the grandmother. He coughed blood, tried to stand, and somehow, impossibly, managed to lower himself into a fighting stance again.
Then, the grandmother’s chanting ceased.
“Enough,” she rasped, her voice trembling with glee. She reached out, her hand hovering over her grandson's face. “It is complete.”
Ino exhaled sharply, dread settling in his gut like lead.
Perfect. A binding vow to boost her cursed technique? A reinforcement ritual? Something to push the grandson past his limits? Ino raised his guard carefully, pulling his knitted mask down tighter, ready for whatever hell the ritual was about to unleash.
“There is no point,” the old woman whispered victoriously, her eyes rolling back. “You will lose now. ZENIN TOJ—”
Just a sudden, suffocating weight.
A spike of Cursed Energy materialized in the the corner of their vision. It didn't swell or travel; it simply appeared, instantly and overwhelmingly dense, like an ocean dropped into a thimble.
The grandmother’s face, still frozen in a victorious sneer, slid roughly off along with her head.
Gravity took over a split second later. Her body slumped forward, hitting the concrete with a wet thud. The ritual cut short. The seance severed before the soul could fully seat itself.
Ino and the grandson froze and whipped their eyes towards the source. They should have felt this Cursed Energy from a kilometer away. It was monstrous, creepy, and so dense that Ino can barely see the limit if there is any,But somehow, it had snuck up on them until the blade was already swinging.
A young man stood over the headless corpse.
He had messy dark hair and dark eyes that looked wide and slightly maniac, mildly appropriate for the violence he had just committed. He wore a fit black T shirt, and blue jeans. In his right hand, he gripped a katana, blood dripping from the steel in a slow, rhythmic tap-tap-tap on the floor.
Yuta Okkotsu.
He was breathing heavy, his chest heaving as if he had just run a marathon—or swam across an ocean. He didn't look at Ino. He just stared at the headless corpse of Ogami, his eyes lingering on it a second too long, as if verifying that she was actually dead.
The silence broke.
“GRANNY!”
The grandson screamed in fury. The shock of the severed ritual and the death of his grandmother snapped his mind. Ignoring the terrifying aura radiating from the newcomer, he lunged at Yuta, blind with rage, hands outstretched to crush the throat of the murderer.
Yuta didn't move. He didn't even lift his sword. He just watched the man come.
Ino moved on instinct.
The blond man was wide open, distracted by grief. Ino didn't hesitate. He channeled every ounce of his remaining output into the horn of the Auspicious Beast.
“Kaichi!”
The drill of Cursed Energy slammed directly into the side of the grandson’s head.
There was a sickening crunch. The blond man’s momentum carried him another step before his legs folded. He hit the ground dead before he even realized it, sliding to a stop just inches from Yuta Okkotsu’s shoes.
The rooftop went silent again.
Two corpses. And one Special Grade Sorcerer who wasn't supposed to be in Japan.
Ino straightened up, panting, his eyes darting between the dead bodies and the boy. He swallowed hard, the heavy, swampy pressure of Yuta's Cursed Energy making the air feel heavy.
“You...” Ino started, his voice cracking slightly under the pressure as he addressed the guy who is infamous for nearly wiping Tokyo Jujutsu high off the face of the earth. “You’re Okkotsu right?”
I finally looked up from the bodies. My expression could have been calm, but my heart was hammering in my chest like it’s trying to escape.
"Yeah," I said, my voice hoarse. I flicked the blood off my katana with a sharp thwip sound and sheathed it. "Sorry I'm late. The traffic was terrible."
Ino stared at me, stunned, still holding the stance he’d braced for a fight he was never meant to win.
I didn’t give him time to speak.
I reached him in two steps, grabbed his arm, and said, “Grab on. We don’t have time.”
“Okkotsu right…? What—wait—hold on—!”
“No time,” I repeated, hooking my arm under his legs.
His protest was instant.
“Okkotsu, don’t—! DON’T YOU DARE—”
I stepped off the edge.
His protest turned into a scream that tore through the wind.
I felt my heart jump to my throat as I pushed a ridiculous amount of Cursed Energy over my body. My internal logic scolded me that it was wasteful—using this much CE just to cushion a fall—but I landed with Ino in my arms, making a crater in the asphalt.
Slowly, I looked down at my knees. They weren't a bloody smear or horribly mangled. Most surprising of all, they weren’t shaking like a leaf as I expected as even the most courageous of soul would have been trembling after jumping of a skyscraper but the fact I merged with Yuta somehow kept me calm.
I stood and let a pale-as-a-sheet Ino down. Cutting the corner were two boys. One with spiky pink hair and large brown eyes, carrying two identical scars under his eyes. Following him was another spiky-haired boy, black hair this time, with a calmer face. Both looked like athletic high schoolers.
The pink-haired boy’s eyes bulged, his body locking up as he finally sensed my Cursed Energy when he is roughly at ten meters or so from us. Beside him, the black-haired boy froze, his eyes widening in pure shock before they softened into something else entirely.
“Okkotsu-senpai...” Megumi muttered, his shoulders slackening in sheer relief. It was the look of a drowning man spotting a lifeboat.
Yuji Itadori—the main character of Jujutsu Kaisen—tilted his head, tasting the syllables as if the name was foreign. “Okkatsu?”
I stared at the two of them, my brain taking a second to process the transition from 2D animation to real life.
Two conclusions hit me instantly.
Up close, the high-definition reality was jarring. First, Itadori. The vessel of Sukuna possessed a formidable, undeniable... roundness. He looked, in the most affectionate sense, like a potato. A very sturdy, dangerous potato. And that hair—it wasn’t the cool, stylized pink of the anime. It was a bizarre, chemical strawberry hue, a color that shouldn't exist in nature.
Then there was Megumi. His head was a chaotic masterpiece of black spikes that defied gravity with such aggressive geometry it implied he either spent three hours wrestling with pomade or the "Toji genes" were so potent they physically rejected physics. They looked like kids. Terrifying, powerful kids who shouldn't be here.
Panic bubbled up in my throat. I shook my head to clear the surrealism and do what Yuta does to face his fears emulate the person he admires the most.
I slapped the blinding, Gojo-level smile back onto his face. It felt brittle on his cheeks, but I committed to the bit.
Before they could react, I stepped forward and wrapped one arm around Fushiguro’s neck and the other around Itadori’s, pulling them into a sudden, awkward hug.
"Good to see you guys!" I chirped, channeling maximum unearned confidence. "No need to worry anymore. Your reliable Senpai is here to deal with everything!"
Megumi stiffened, radiating horror at the fact the one senpai he genuinely likes or isn’t scared of started acting like his annoying ass teacher. Yuji just blinked, looking confused, but strangely enough, he started smiling back.
I released them, keeping the grin plastered on as I pointed a finger at Megumi.
"Fushiguro-kun, I have a job for you. Go find Maki's team and join them. I need to know they're okay."
I turned to the other two.
"Itadori-kun, Ino-san. You two stick together like glue. Head down to where Gojo-sensei is sealed. Hopefully, you can unite with Mei Mei team on the way but don’t engage unless they are getting away as you might be a potential target Itadori-kun."
I slapped their backs encouragingly—maybe a little too hard, judging by Megumi’s wince—and bolted before they could ask any follow-up questions.
"Good luck!" I shouted over my shoulder, already channeling Cursed Energy into my legs.
I didn't look back because I had to get to the first stage of my actual plan.
[Location: Shoto Bunkamura Street]
"Keep moving!" Nobara shouted, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts.
Beside her, Akari Nitta was struggling to keep pace, clutching her suit jacket as they sprinted down the deserted asphalt. The streetlights flickered overhead, casting long, jumping shadows that made every alleyway look like a mouth waiting to snap shut.
A figure emerged from the gloom ahead, blocking their path with a casual, skipping gait. He was a skinny, pale man with a high ponytail and strange marks under his eyes. He held a sword in his hand—handle made of a hand, blade jutting out from the wrist. It was ugly. It matched his face perfectly.
Haruta Shigemo grinned, his eyes gleaming with a sick kind of delight as he looked them over.
"Oh, lucky me!" he giggled, swinging the hand-sword lazily. "I was getting bored hunting just the middle-aged managers. But finally... girls! I love girls. They scream the prettiest."
Nobara skidded to a halt, putting herself between the creep and Nitta.
"Nitta-san," Nobara said loudly, her voice echoing off the buildings. "You hide! Get somewhere safe. I’ll handle this freak."
But as she spoke, she leaned back slightly, pitching her voice down so only the manager could hear.
"Pretend you're hiding in the Bunkamura Station entrance," she whispered fiercely. "But don't stop. Run straight through the station and make your escape through the Tokyu exit. Go."
"But—" Akari started, her eyes wide.
"Don't argue. Just do it," Nobara hissed.
Shigemo tilted his head, watching the hushed exchange with exaggerated curiosity. "Hmh? What are you whispering about? Secrets? I love secrets."
He didn't wait for an answer. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled the hand-sword straight at Nobara.
Projectile?
Nobara didn't flinch. She swung her hammer in a tight arc, catching the flying blade mid-air and knocking it straight down into the asphalt with a metallic clang.
At the same exact moment, Nitta bolted, sprinting for the subway entrance.
"Oh? Is the manager trying to hide?" Shigemo asked, looking disappointed as he watched Nitta disappear into the station stairs.
Nobara tightened her grip on her hammer. He uses a Cursed Tool. He threw it immediately, which means he’s likely a mid-ranged fighter who prefers to keep his distance.
She smirked, cracking her neck. What a dumbass. You just threw away your only weapon.
"Hey, Ponytail!" Nobara shouted, rushing him. "Eyes on me!"
She closed the distance in seconds, aiming to turn this into a brawl where her hammer would have the advantage. Shigemo hopped backward, dodging her nails and swings with an annoying, bouncy agility.
"Have we met before?" he asked, tilting his head as he weaved around her strike.
Nobara paused, a flash of recognition hitting her. The Kyoto Goodwill Event. He was the one who had invaded with the curses.
"Nope," she lied flatly. "Never seen a face that punchable in my life."
She pressed the attack, trying to force him into close quarters. If she could just land one hit with her nail, it was over.
Inside the station, Akari Nitta was running.
Her heels clicked loudly on the tiles as she sprinted past the ticket gates. Nobara-chan is buying me time. I have to get to the exit and inform the headquarters. I have to—
She didn't see it.
She ran right past a concrete pillar where Shigemo's hand-sword was clinging to the wall like a spider, its fingers digging into the stone.
Outside, Shigemo’s grin widened. "She's not hiding, is she?"
Inside the station, the sword dropped.
It moved with a will of its own, swooping down and slashing across the back of Nitta's legs. She screamed, crumbling to the ground as her legs gave out as blood gush out. Before she even could crawl or register the pain, the sword looped back, hovering menacingly.
Then, Shigemo was there.
He had slipped past Nobara the moment she was distracted by her scream, dashing into the station entrance. He found Nitta on the floor, vulnerable and bleeding.
"Found you!"
He delivered a brutal soccer kick to her ribs.
CRACK.
Nitta gasped, spitting up bile and blood as she curled into a ball.
"NO!"
Nobara burst into the station a second too late. Seeing her friend on the ground with her right foot almost severed of her leg, something snapped.
"YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"
She rushed Shigemo, her hammer raised high as she sent some nails to box him in striking distance, ready to cave his skull in. She was open, but he was unarmed. His sword was still floating near the ceiling—
Swish.
The sword dropped into Shigemo's hand instantly, parried her hammer lightly as he sidestep with a hideous grin.
Nobara’s eyes widened. He can recall it?!
She tried to brake, but her momentum was already carrying her forward. Shigemo didn't slash at her body. He dropped low and sliced her lead leg.
It was a strong cut even with her instinctively reinforcing with her CE, but it must have severed the muscle as Nobara’s leg buckled.
Before she could recover and make some distance, Shigemo stepped in, reversing his grip on the sword. He didn't use the blade. He drove the heavy, fist-shaped handle straight into Nobara’s jaw with the force of a piston.
THWACK.
Nobara’s vision went white. Her head snapped back, her equilibrium shattered. She staggered, her legs refusing to hold her up, and she collapsed to her knees, panting, blood dripping from her chin.
The world spun.
Shigemo bent over at the waist, bringing his face uncomfortably close to hers. His eyes were wide, manic, and mocking.
"Awww," he cooed, tapping her cheek with the flat of his blade. "Look at you. All tough a second ago. What happened?"
Nobara grit her teeth, the taste of copper filling her mouth. She tried to focus her eyes, fighting the concussion rattling her brain.
"What..." she choked out, trying to buy even a single second for her nerves to reconnect. "What do you want? What is your goal here?"
Shigemo giggled, a high, grating sound that bounced off the tiled walls. "Goal? Answer? I don't have one!"
He spun the sword in his hand, looking delighted.
"I'm just having fun! It doesn't matter what happens or who dies as long as I'm enjoying myself!"
His eyes flicked past her, landing on Nitta, who was groaning on the floor, trying to crawl away.
"Like this!"
He flicked his wrist casually. The blade lashed out, carving a fresh gash across Nitta's back.
Nitta screamed—a wet, ragged sound that tore through the station.
"STOP IT!" Nobara screamed, her voice cracking.
"Make me," Shigemo grinned, leaning closer.
Nobara forced herself up. Her legs were trembling, screaming in protest, but fury was a powerful anesthetic. She stumbled to her feet, raising her hammer with shaking hands. She was going to kill him. Even if she died doing it, she would—
Then, the air pressure in the station dropped.
There was no sound of footsteps. No warning.
One second, Shigemo was standing there, grinning. The next, it looked like he had been hit by an invisible bulldozer.
BOOM.
There was a blur of black, a sickening impact of flesh hitting metal, and the curse user was launched violently out of the station entrance. He flew backward as if yanked by a huge cable designed to carry hundreds of tonnes or by her sadist of a sensei, crashing into the vending machines outside with a deafening crunch.
Nobara blinked, her brain unable to track the speed.
She looked down to where Nitta was.
A boy was crouching there. He looked about her age, wearing a casual plain black shirt and blue jeans. He had one hand placed gently on Nitta's almost severed foot.
Smoke—white steam—was rising from Nitta's body as flesh knitted itself back together.
"It’s okay," the boy said, his voice strangely soft amidst the chaos. "You're fine now."
Nobara watched in shock as Nitta gasped, her eyes flying open. The manager pushed herself up, looking at her legs, then feeling her back. The bleeding had stopped. The pain was gone. Her legs look completely fine.
Reverse Cursed Technique? Nobara’s mind reeled. He can output it to others? And heal this well! Only Shoko-san can do that!
The boy didn't wait for a thank you. He vanished again.
Nobara instinctively turned her head following the residuals of his CE just in time to see him blur past her Outside, Shigemo was trying to crawl out of the crushed remains of a vending machine, coughing up blood. He looked up, terrified.
The boy was already standing over him. He didn't draw his katana. He simply gripped the scabbard and drove the heavy steel pommel straight into Shigemo's gut.
CRACK.
"Gah—!"
Shigemo folded like a lawn chair, his eyes bulging out of his skull. He retched, hurling all over the pavement as the air was forcibly evicted from his lungs.
The boy vanished again.
He was suddenly back in front of Nobara. She flinched, raising her hammer on instinct, but he just reached out, placing a warm hand on top of her head.
The dizziness vanished instantly. The throbbing pain in her jaw evaporated. Then, She felt the muscle in her leg knit itself back together in a split second.
She blinked, staring at the boy who had just destroyed her opponent and healed her entire team in under ten seconds.
"Who the fuck are you?" she said eloquently.
The boy looked at her for a second before smiled at her—a confident, almost blinding smile that reminded her annoyingly of Gojo Satoru.
"Okkotsu Yuta," he said softly. He reached out and ruffled her hair (a move so risky I felt my soul leave my body for a second.) making her stare in disbelief as he treated her like a lost child. "Second-year student."
He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the manager and smile confidently at her. "Take care of her for me, okay? She's shaken up."
"Hah? Wait!" Nobara yelled cheeks flushed red in flustered anger as the shock evaporated, replaced instantly by the white-hot irritation of being treated like a stupid kid in her own fight. "Just wait a damn second! What the hell is going on?!"
Okkotsu blinked down at her, looking visibly confused for a split second, as if he expected her to already know everything. Then, his expression dropped. The smile vanished, replaced by something solemn and terrifyingly serious.
"Gojo-sensei was sealed."
Nobara's eyes bulged. The world seemed to tilt on its axis. The color drained from her face, leaving her cold. "...What?"
"I will deal with the situation inside," Okkotsu said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "But I need your help. You both need to find the other managers. They are vital right now—we don't even know where the other teams are stationed. We need eyes."
He didn't wait for a response. He turned on his heel and bolted toward the alleyway where the ponytail creep had managed to scramble away during their brief talk.
Nobara watched him go with a healed leg and a dread that was just beginning to set in before, she shook her head violently, slapping her own cheeks to wake up. She turned to Akari Nitta, who was still looking at her own healed legs in disbelief.
"Nitta-san," Nobara said, her voice steady again. "We're doing as he said. We need to find the other managers. You guys are the nervous system of this operation—without you, we're fighting blind."
"R-Right!" Nitta stammered, nodding before taking a deep breath and standing up firmly.
"But after that," Nobara added, gripping her hammer until her knuckles turned white, "I'm coming back. There is no way in hell I am staying out of this."
As they began to move, a thought struck Nobara, making her pause.
Wait.
She looked back at the shattered vending machines where the creep got bitch slapped into.
How on earth did that guy sneak up on us?
Even if she had been distracted by the ponytail creep, Nobara Kugisaki wasn't an amateur. She had good instincts. And that Okkotsu guy... the amount of Cursed Energy rolling off him was unreal. It was so dense, heavy, and terrifying. It should have been like a siren blaring in her ears from a mile away.
Yet, she hadn't felt a thing until the impact. Until he was already standing there.
Did he suppress it? Or was he just moving so fast that she didn’t sense until he was here or was his CE control that good, like Gojo-sensei?
She shook her head, forcing the thought away. It didn't matter right now. He was on their side. That was all that mattered.
"Let's go, Nitta-san!"
[Location: Inside Dagon's Domain, "Horizon of the Captivating Skandha"]
This was hell. Not the metaphorical kind found in overtime on a Friday night, but a literal, constructed hell of saltwater and murderous piranha .
Nanami Kento swung his blunt blade, severing the shikigami that materialized out of thin air, but for every one he destroyed, three more took its place.
Children should not be here.
The thought was a rhythmic mantra in his head, timing his strikes. Swing. Block. Endure.
Maki Zenin was fighting with a ferocity that surpasses half the sorcerers Kento knows, but he could see the truth. She was being overwhelmed. She was a student. A teenager. She should be enjoying life with her friends, figuring out what she wants with her life, not fighting for her barely starting life inside a Special Grade's Domain.
It was an failure of every adult sorcerer that a child had to stand alongside you in a death battle.
"Maki! Don't stop moving!" Nanami roared, his usual composure cracking under the sheer volume of attacks. "Make your way to me!"
The Cursed Spirit, Dagon, hovered above them, an eldritch horror of the deep, a Kraken: seventy percent of its Death Swarm—an endless tide of piranhas and eels of various size—was focused on Zenin Naobito. The old man was countering with Falling Blossom Emotion, his speed defying his age, but he was slowly being overwhelmed because Dagon is playing with him, getting used to his new body.
The remaining thirty percent was focused on Kento and Maki.
Chomp.
A shikigami manifested directly on his flank, tearing away a chunk of his suit and the flesh beneath almost up to his ribs. Nanami didn't flinch. He couldn't afford to. Pain fuels him to shatter the curse in one hit with his Ratio.
But his eyes were glued to Maki.
She didn't have a counter-domain technique no matter how flawed Kento’s was, it still blocked nearly half the domain’s sure hit. She was taking the hits raw as one bit her viciously in the elbow making her groan and slam it on the other, she is already bleeding but not as bad as Kento feared yet. As one piranha went for her face which she barely punt away but unlike him she can’t kill it with her hands.
"Maki!"
He tried to reach her, to interpose himself so she could get a little space, but a wave of eels slammed into him, locking his arms. He watched, agonizingly helpless, as Dagon moved.
The curse bypassed Naobito's defenses, punching the Zenin head through a forest of palm trees. Before Nanami could shout, Dagon was on Maki.
"You are the weakest here," the spirit sneered.
It kicked her.
The sound of the impact made Nanami's stomach turn. Maki flew like a ragdoll, crashing into the treeline.
"Bastard..." Nanami gritted his teeth, his Cursed Energy flaring with a rare, white-hot anger. I am an adult. I am supposed to shield them. What good is "Grade 1" if I cannot save a single student?
"Finish me in one hit if you're going to insult me!" Maki's voice rang out from the dust, defiant and unbroken despite struggling to get up.
Dagon raised a hand, summoning a executioner's swarm. "I will give you the same fate as the others."
Nanami surged forward, desperate to reach her, knowing he wouldn't make it.
Splash.
The ocean exploded.
A geyser of black, liquid shadow erupted near the shoreline, disrupting the sure-hit effect for a split second.
Nanami froze. A domain intrusion?
Megumi Fushiguro emerged from the shadow, surfing on the chaos.
Another child, Nanami thought, a mix of relief and despair hitting him. Why do the children keep having to clean up our mess?
"Maki-san!" Megumi shouted, extending his shadow.
From the void, a three-section staff flew out. Playful Cloud.
Maki snatched it out of the air. The shift in her stance was instant. She swung the Special Grade tool, the raw force smashing Dagon back, making the calamari-faced curse recoil in genuine shock as he skid back few feets.
"Nanami-san!" Megumi yelled, hands clasped in a seal, veins popping on his forehead. "I'm neutralizing the sure-hit! Cover me!"
Nanami gripping his blade nodded as the despair was shoved down with practiced ease, replaced by the cold resolve.
"Understood," Nanami said, stepping between the students and the monster. I will not let them die. Not today.
Dagon recovered mid-air, his face twisting in realization. "My sure-hit... it's gone?!"
He looked at the boy surfing the shadows. "A Domain tug-of-war? You brat!"
Dagon didn't hesitate. He knew who the lynchpin was now. He ignored Maki and Naobito, focusing his attention solely on the boy holding the barrier open. Two massive fish shikigami erupted from his body, shooting toward Megumi like torpedoes.
"Megumi!" Maki shouted, too far away to intercept.
But Nanami was already moving.
He leaped onto one of the toad shikigami Megumi had manifested, using it as a springboard. He blurred through the air, his blade flashing in the artificial sunlight.
Ratio Technique: 7 to 3.
With surgical precision, he sliced the torpedo-shikigami curses in half before they could reach the boy. He landed in front of Megumi, his back acting as a wall between the student and the Special Grade.
"Nanami-san!" Megumi gasped, his eyes widening in surprise.
Nanami didn't look back. He kept his eyes on the enemy, but his voice dropped to a low, urgent whisper that only Megumi could hear over the roar of the ocean.
"Itadori-kun and Ino-kun. Status?"
Megumi grit his teeth, sweat stinging his eyes as he fought the mental strain of the Domain battle. But a smile—small, genuine, and wildly out of place—tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"They're safe," Megumi whispered back. "And... Okkotsu Yuta has entered Shibuya."
Nanami’s eyes widened slightly. Okkotsu.
The name was a lifeline. Kento ignored the voice in his head pointing out how pathetic he was, that another child had to save them all and clean up their messes. He shoved that thought away for another time, they had to survive the next five minutes.
"Good," Nanami said, his voice steel. "Focus on maintaining the Domain. I will protect you."
Dagon roared, sensing the shift in momentum. "Don't ignore me!"
He unleashed the Death Swarm.
It wasn't a wave this time. It was a sphere. The shikigami came from all angles—above, below, left, right—closing in on the small island of shadow where Nanami and Megumi stood.
Megumi watched, helpless. He couldn't summon Nue. He couldn't summon Divine Dog. One second of diverted focus meant losing the Domain battle, meant the sure-hit effect returning and killing them all instantly.
"Nanami-san!"
The swarm engulfed Nanami.
The sound was terrible—wet tearing, crunching, and the relentless snapping of jaws. For a moment, Nanami Kento disappeared under a mountain of flesh-eating shikigami.
Then, the mountain exploded.
Nanami burst out, his Cursed Energy flaring like a bonfire. His suit was in ribbons. His shirt was soaked red, blood streaming from dozens of bites on his arms, legs, and face one of his eye is mutilated beyond recovery. He looked like he had been put through a shredder.
But he was still standing.
He planted his feet firmly in front of Fushiguro, his blade raised, his breath coming in ragged, bloody gasps. He hadn't given an inch.
Dagon floated back, genuine shock on his face. "You withstood the full power of Death Swarm for a minute? Impressive for a human."
Nanami didn't answer. He stared at the curse, his vision swimming. The blood loss was making his limbs heavy. The pain was distant, dull.
I cannot let them touch Fushiguro.
The thought was clear, but the body was failing. He calculated the remaining cursed energy he had. He calculated the time Okkotsu might take to arrive. It wasn't enough.
Should I do it?
The forbidden thought crossed his mind. A Binding Vow. A sacrifice of life for a momentary explosion of power. A death binding vow. It would kill him, undeniably, but it might buy the children the chance to escape.
Nanami Kento stood silent, bleeding into the sand, weighing the cost of his life against the future of the student behind him and ahead of him and decided yes in less than a second.
Suddenly, Naobito reappeared instantly behind Dagon, his speed blinding, a blur of motion that Kento can barely follow—Projection Sorcery at its peak. He struck with enough force to shatter steel, but Dagon, surprising the old head of the Zenin clan, reacted just as fast. The curse raised a barrier of water which contain one big piranha curse, blocking the blow with a dull thud.
"Fast but I am faster," Dagon hissed, lunging at him to smash a foot in his torso
Maki was already moving. Seizing the opening, she lunged from the cursed spirit's blind spot. Dagon didn't turn; he simply expanded his mass, spawning two massive, eel-like shikigami from his own flesh to repel them.
The shikigami lunged with rows of razor-sharp teeth. Maki pivoted, the red segments of Playful Cloud whistling through the air as she slammed the Special Grade Cursed Tool into the beast's skull..
Simultaneously, Naobito met his attacker head-on. He brought his foot down in a thunderous stomp, crushing the eel shikigami into the invisible floor of the domain.
He stood tall, blood dripping from the stump of his right arm, his face twisted in a manic grin.
"Is that it?" Naobito scoffed, his voice raspy but dripping with arrogance. "All that effort, and all you took was my right arm?"
He stepped over the dissolving remains of the shikigami. "I may be seventy-one years old, spirit, but that arm... it’s going to cost you dearly."
“Stop hyping yourself up, old timer.” mutters Maki
Nanami Kento stood like a wall, his tie fluttering in the violent winds of the domain, deflecting torrents of small swarm of curses away from Megumi. The young Fushiguro was on one knee, sweat pouring down his face, his hands clasped together in a domain expansion hand sign. He was reaching his limit. Blood trickled from his nose.
"I'm not only... trying to win a domain tug-of-war," Megumi gasped out, his voice strained. "I'm mostly focusing... on the barrier's edge."
Nanami glanced back, understanding dawning on him. Megumi wasn't just trying to overtake Dagon’s Horizon of the Captivating Skandha; he was burning his cursed energy to tear a small hole in the barrier.
"A Disaster Curse likely cannot use Domain Expansion multiple times in a single day," Megumi explained through gritted teeth. "If we escape now... we win."
"Are you planning to stay behind as a decoy?" Nanami asked sharply.
"No," Megumi said, his eyes fierce. "I have no intention of throwing my life away."
Nanami nodded, a rare look of approval crossing his face. He turned his head toward the brawl on the other side of the beach.
"Zenin! Maki! Get over here!"
The command cut through the noise of the battle. Without hesitation, Naobito and Maki disengaged from Dagon and rushed toward the source of the voice.
Next to him, Megumi stood in a crouch, standing on a bed of swelling shadowy mass as he focused all his energy in enlarging the small hole in the Special Grade Curse’s tropical themed barrier.
Dagon watched them leave with detached interest. It evaluated their movements, preparing for the dark haired sorcerer’s inevitable domain expansion.
Surely they didn’t believe that boy, weakened as he was, would be able to overtake Dagon’s own; perfected domain, right?
Then, Dagon felt it. A hole created in the impeccable barrier that encapsulated its domain. Those sorcerers were attempting to escape!
A sense of urgency overtook the curse, as it charged through the seawater of its domain. It could not let them escape, not after what they did to Hanami!
"Hurry!" Megumi shouted.
Below Megumi’s feet, the shadow expanded, warping the space of the domain. Through the tear in the barrier, the mundane, dark interior of the Shibuya subway station was visible. It was the exit.
"Go!" Nanami yelled.
Maki and Naobito were mere steps away. Victory—survival—was right there. But the Kraken curse is catching up, Kento step forward with a morbid thought of atleast, I am dying in a beach.
But before anyone could take a step through the portal, the light from the station was blocked.
Someone was coming in.
"Huh?" Megumi’s eyes widened.
Through the hole in the shadow beneath Megumi, a figure emerged like it was shot out of a cannon. He came through feet first, rising out of the darkness as if gravity had reversed for him alone. First came the singed sneakers, then the legs, then the torso.
He didn't flip or land with grace. He simply flewout of the hole, right past them, hovering for a split second before gravity remembered how it worked, and he face-planted into the shallow water of the domain with a wet SMACK.
Silence descended on the battlefield as stunned faces of the sorcerers and the baffled curse stare at the figure.
The figure groaned, peeling his face off the wet sand. He was a young man in a loose black T shirt and blue jeans. He looked entirely out of place, less like a sorcerer and more like a guy who had gotten lost looking for a washroom in a huge mall if not for the ridiculous amount of CE and the Sheathed katana in his waist.
He scrambled to his feet, dusting off wet sand. Under his left eye, two dark, vertical slanting lines were drawn in what looked suspiciously like permanent marker.
Maki skidded to a halt, doing a violent double-take as she stared at the boy. "Yuta?!"
Megumi let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging in relief.
"Ouch," the intruder muttered, rubbing his nose. He looked up, blinking at the massive red octopus-monster looming over him.
"So," the boy said, his voice cracking slightly before he deepened it into a forced baritone. "This is where the party is."
Dagon narrowed his eyes hissing as he stepped back in alarm. His cursed energy is monstrous more so than big brother Jogo. So they called in a strong human instead of running away huh.
Okkatsu reached into his pocket. Dagon flinched, spawning a shield of water instantly.
Okkatsu pulled out... a partially eaten sushi. He looked at it, then at Dagon.
"My offering," Okkatsu said solemnly. "To the sea god."
"Don't mock me!" Dagon roared. "Death Swarm!"
A thousand predatory fish shikigami materialized from the water, launching themselves at the boy.