The sky, painted in hues of orange and purple, seemed to mirror the inner turmoil on the Ogami clan's porch. The elongated shadow of Grandma Ogami stretched across the weathered wooden walls, while my hand clutched the doorframe of her room tightly—as if letting go would allow the truth to slip away with the night wind.
Grandma Ogami's Whispered Vengeance
Her wrinkled yet sharp eyes scanned the room, her ancient fingers adjusting the talismans in an antique leather pouch.
"Are you sure you don't want to come? This is an important journey. It might take a while."
Her voice was flat, but beneath it lay an age-old restlessness.
I shook my head, feigning ignorance.
"I'd rather wait here, Grandma. There's... something I need to prepare."
But in her mind, a sinister plot was unfolding:
"Perhaps my trail has already been noticed by those people... Now's the perfect time to leave. These children will serve as sacrifices for the 'Mass Ten Shadows Resurrection Ritual'... And you, Gojo Satoru—"
Her teeth gritted.
"You'll die. How dare you interfere with my freedom?"
As I turned toward my room, Toshiro stood there, a combat backpack slung over his shoulder. Fresh blood dripped from a hidden wound on his right arm—a mark of his cursed pact with Grandma.
"I told you not to follow Grandma! Why are you so stubborn?!"
My voice carried a hint of irritation.
He averted his face, shadows masking his expression.
"I'm going anyway. The others are coming too... while you stay here to train. Grandma left you enough money to live on your own."
"Toshiro, remember my words—no matter what happens, survive. I'll be waiting here..."
I sighed.
"I'm leaving to train. So are Ren, Sora, and Yuno. When we return, we'll be stronger—strong enough to defeat you easily. So don't slack off."
---
This might explain why Grandma Ogami was absent during the Riko Amanai assassination arc.
Two days had passed since Grandma Ogami and her grandchildren left.
A Silent Morning and a Plan to Scout the Battlefield
The morning air bit into my bones. Frowning, I sipped the bitter coffee—its heat perfect for shaking off the last traces of sleep. Outside the window, the sun had just begun to peek over the horizon, casting long shadows of the wooden table onto the floor. The wind whispered through the leaves, as if asking, "Are you really going through with this?"
My hand clenched the pen tightly, its tip tapping against a Tokyo map already covered in scribbles. Blue ink circled key locations—this was where Gojo Satoru and Toji Fushiguro had clashed, rewriting fate itself. Squinting, I tried to envision Toji's smirk after stabbing Gojo. "It should be around here," I muttered, adding another mark.
Outside the House of the Children of the Star (Star Plasma Vessel's Hideout), after Toji delivered the Vessel's corpse and Satoru had recovered.
Near the temple entrance, within Tokyo Jujutsu High's barrier—where Toji ambushed the Star Plasma Vessel's escort team.
A faint smile curled my lips. My gaze drifted to a sketch of Gojo at the edge of the desk—his eyes blindfolded, yet his expression seemed to taunt, "Nah, I'd win." Beside it, a half-open bag revealed black pants and a white shirt belonging to his brother.
For a moment, my attention snagged on the notebook's margin—a rough sketch of the Inverted Spear of Heaven. I exhaled sharply. The weapon that pierced a god. Would I obtain it... or would Gojo take it first?
But as my fingers traced the map again, marking the final battle site between Gojo and Toji in red, my heart pounded.
"I'll steal it."
After the second round of Gojo Satoru vs. Toji Fushiguro—where Toji lost half his body—I was certain of one thing: once Toji died, Gojo would leave his corpse behind. The proof? Toji's cursed spirit (the sword-storing shikigami) crawling toward Suguru Geto. Its voice, soft yet soul-shaking, was unforgettable:
"Mom... hold me..."
With Gojo gone to handle Riko Amanai's remains, this was the perfect time to consume Toji Fushiguro—and loot his belongings.
Toji's battle with Gojo had begun long before the sorcerer ever sensed the mercenary. Toji knew that to defeat the Six Eyes, he had to strike when Gojo was at his weakest—months from now. I needed to find the perfect vantage point.
Sunday Morning
The sky was clear, the air crisp with the scent of damp earth after last night's rain. I stood at the village's small train station, waiting. The platform was modest, surrounded by golden rice fields. A few villagers were already awake—some carrying market baskets, others sipping tea on benches. A tranquil scene, far from the city's chaos.
The train arrived with a soft ding-dong. I boarded the nearly empty car. Only a handful of passengers: an old man with a newspaper, a mother cradling a sleeping child. The wooden seats and slightly open windows let in the morning breeze. As the train crept forward, leaving the village behind, the landscape shifted—rice fields giving way to tea plantations.
Thirty minutes later, the scenery changed. Houses grew denser; streets busier. Other trains zoomed past on parallel tracks. Small factories, warehouses, then apartment buildings appeared one by one. The rural calm faded, replaced by the approaching shadow of the city.
Tokyo
The moment the train entered Tokyo, everything transformed.
The first station was already packed—people rushing in and out, loudspeakers blaring announcements. I stepped off, assaulted by the smell of station coffee, fresh bakery bread, and subway exhaust.
I froze.
"This is just the outskirts, and it's already this crowded?"
Massive screens flashed ads, digital maps, and blinking schedules.
I hesitated, overwhelmed by signs and arrows, before letting the crowd carry me forward.
"This is Tokyo," I whispered.
Everything moved fast. Occasionally, I spotted Grade 4 curses roaming freely. "They could be destroyed with a baseball bat... but I'm too lazy to bother." Adjusting wouldn't be hard.
Outside, the city hit me full force.
Skyscrapers loomed; cars and buses weaved endlessly. Horns, store music, and salesmen's shouts filled the air. "Shinjuku... Akihabara... Shibuya..." Names I'd only heard in anime were now real.
I took a deep breath. The city's scent—oil, street food, perfumes—was overwhelming. I grinned.
"This is just the beginning, Tokyo. I'm finally here."
Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College
A hidden school for aspiring jujutsu sorcerers, nestled deep in Tokyo's forests behind a traditional gate.
The main building resembled an ancient temple, complete with classrooms, training grounds, and the arena where Yuji fought Todo. A base for combating curses and organizations like Kenjaku or Geto. Where Satoru Gojo teaches, shielded by Tengen's barrier.
"Grandma Ogami's map marks this as the location. Onward to the next destination."
Time Vessel Association
Their public front, the Star Religious Group, operated from the House of the Children of the Star—a lavish church with secluded meeting spaces and a grand stage for congregations.
"The battle between Gojo Satoru and Toji Fushiguro... is only a matter of time."