Night in the city was bustling, as if indifferent to the tension tightening in my chest. The lights of vehicles shimmered, reflecting on the windows of the café where I sat alone.
The dense traffic pulsed with life, while I, cloaked in a black hoodie that shadowed my face, was submerged in a world far removed from the passersby and drivers rushing past.
Steam from a cup of hot coffee rose slowly, framing my face in a thin mist. It tasted bitter, yet comforting. Much like this night.
"Months of preparation are finally coming to a head."
Restless. That feeling gripped me as I imagined the fight between Gojo Satoru and Toji Fushiguro. Rumor had it, after that battle, the body was still there. Uncollected. Unsecured. He had prioritized Riko Amanai whether she was dead or alive over anything else. And in that moment… was the perfect time to steal Toji's body and his equipment.
But the saddest part was this image I couldn't shake: Gojo walking with Riko Amanai's corpse, his own body bloodied, perhaps rushing after her. And Toji, the sorcerer killer, lying abandoned. For a moment, his body was a gap in the otherwise flawless system. A gap that would only appear once.
My heart raced faster. This was the perfect moment to steal.
Yet fear pooled deep in my chest. What if Jujutsu High noticed my movements? What if I was too slow? They would never let anyone touch the corpse of a sorcerer killer who brought Gojo to the brink of death. Especially if they discovered my true aim wasn't just to take the body but his weaponry as well.
Impatience burned away that anxiety. I wanted to know what kind of body a man like Toji had a man with no cursed energy, yet capable of defeating Gojo. I wanted to make him my shikigami. I wanted to possess him. To analyze him. To understand what benefit I could gain from consuming him with my shadow.
This night wasn't just another night. It was a temporal breach. Between chaos and departure, between blood and darkness I would move.
A careful hand that understood the risks of the jujutsu world, and an obsessive desire to claim something forbidden: Toji Fushiguro's corpse. I knew what I was doing was dangerous, possibly fatal, but that unease paled before my hunger for opportunity.
Fear isn't weakness. It's proof that I understand just how thin the line between life and death is in the world of sorcerers. But my desire to steal Toji's corpse revealed a grand ambition perhaps even a deep respect, or obsession, with the power he once held.
I didn't just want to steal. I wanted to take over. In my mind, Toji's body was no longer a remnant of a battle, but an artifact of power that could alter the course of fate.
---
The daytime sky looked clean almost sacred. Thin clouds hung high like the veils of gods watching the world from a distant, indifferent height. Yet still watching.
And beneath them, among trees and wild grass trembling in the summer wind, stood a killer.
A former member of the Zenin clan. The notorious assassin known as the "Sorcerer Killer."
Toji Fushiguro. Not a sorcerer. Not a curse. Just a man… too silent to be called ordinary.
For days, he had merged with the shadows, becoming a crack in the wall of reality. Waiting. Watching. Counting breaths, measuring carelessness, smelling arrogance.
He knew victory didn't always come from power. Sometimes, it came from plans no one could detect.
And finally… they arrived.
Light footsteps echoed through the invisible barrier of Jujutsu High. The daylight greeted a small group crossing the safety threshold with laughter and relief on their faces.
Satoru Gojo led the way, walking with a lazy arrogance. Riko Amanai, the girl protected by the entire world. Suguru Geto and Kuroi the guardians too faithful to fate.
Toji moved.
No cursed energy could be sensed. No signal. No warning. Like a falling leaf, he slipped into the heart of their defense.
"Shkkt—!"
The sound of metal piercing flesh and bone. A katana drove through Satoru Gojo's body from behind.
Time seemed to freeze.
Toji Fushiguro had struck from behind, shocking everyone they were supposed to be hidden within the barrier of Jujutsu High.
Warm blood sprayed out, red beneath the daylight. Those blue eyes eyes that could see everything widened not from pain, but from disbelief. As if the universe had broken its promise of invincibility.
Gojo stared wide-eyed, turned his head, and asked with scorn:
"Excuse me, have we met before?"
Toji whispered softly, like the voice of death itself:
"Don't waste your breath. I'm not the type to remember random names."
Gojo staggered, his body swaying. Using his strength, he activated Cursed Technique Reversal: Blue, pushing Toji away with a burst of reversed gravitational force.
Geto didn't waste a second. With a shout filled with rage and fear, he summoned a massive unnamed cursed serpent that lunged at Toji, trying to devour him whole.
Gojo remained standing. His knees shook, but he hadn't fallen.
"Are you okay?" Geto whispered, trying to get closer.
Gojo replied with a near-sinister smile, blood trailing from the corner of his lips.
"…You guys go ahead. I'll handle him."
A few silent seconds. Then CRASH!
Blood sprayed. Purple smoke billowed.
Toji emerged from the cursed beast like a mythological monster, holding a different blade. A cursed weapon that could slice not only the body, but the soul itself.
'Split Soul Katana. (Shakukontō)'
His smile grinned like a knife. Cold. Terrifying. Not hatred. Not anger. Just pure efficiency.
Geto stepped back, his face both furious and pale.
Toji walked slowly, destroying the remaining curses with a single swing.
"Where's the Star Plasma Vessel?" he asked calmly. "I need her corpse for a client."
Gojo chuckled dryly, blood dripping from his chin.
"The bounty's been revoked. Haha… you idiot."
Toji paused. His shoulder moved slightly.
A small laugh. Not amused. Not satisfied. But… appreciating the irony.
"That bounty was mine. Just bait… to make you lower your guard."
---
POV: Toji
Satoru Gojo. The boy with god's eyes. But in the end, still human.
I'm sure he held up Infinity for three whole days. Three days without sleep. Withstanding every attack. No gaps. No rest.
But a human body even one blessed by the divine has limits. And I only had to wait… until that limit cracked.
And when he began to believe he had already won that was when I struck.
It wasn't a battle. It was an execution.
I didn't kill a god.
I just proved that even gods can die…
…if they believe in themselves too much.