Chapter Text
The beer bottle slipped from her grasp, shattering on the table. Both recoiled against the booth's worn cushions as amber liquid and glass sprayed across the surface. A waiter rushed over, asking if they were okay, but his voice was distant, muffled as if underwater.
Utahime surfaced first, the world slowly coming back into focus. A gentle push on her shoulder accompanied the waiter's concerned voice.
"Miss, are you alright?"
She blinked, her mouth slightly agape, and mumbled a "yes" that failed to convince the man beside her.
"Sorry, I just gave her some surprising news," Nanami's voice was steady, providing enough reassurance for the waiter to clean up the broken glass and retreat.
Utahime stared at the man opposite her. A stranger moments ago, now suddenly someone she'd known for lifetimes.
"What the fuck!"
"So you remember too?" he asked, his expression mirroring her shock.
"Of course I remember, Kento! Holy shit, did talking just unleash our memories?"
He shrugged, though his brow was furrowed with concern. "Something happened. This is the second trigger after the Six-Eyes' birth."
"The Six-Eyes… Do you think—"
"That it's the same as ours? Possibly. We're both here."
"What's the last thing you remember, from before?"
"The battle. Then nothing but the past twenty-six years of this life... and now... everything." He removed his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Silence settled between them—not uncomfortable, but introspective, as they both tried to connect the scattered pieces of a puzzle they'd only just discovered.
"Gakuganji!" he suddenly said. "Iori-senpai, I think all the people from our past life were reborn, and for some reason, our memories are just now surfacing."
Utahime processed this for a moment. "This is… why? I don't remember anything beyond the battle, just like you. How did we die? Is it standard reincarnation? It's been over a millennium. And why did our memories return simultaneously?"
"I'm not entirely sure what's happening, but I know we need to go back and find Yaga-sensei."
She took a deep breath. "Yaga." Her eyes darted around the table furtively, as if searching for something deep in her memory. "Kento, have you met others? Gakuganji... is he really my great uncle?"
He nodded calmly. "Gakuganji, Yaga. I haven't encountered any other sorcerers from our past life outside the three of you."
She reflected on this for a moment, then her eyes widened. "Geto! I met Geto a few years ago! Oh my god, I wanted to give him my number, I'm livid!"
Nanami ignored the second part, falling deep in thought. "Let's go back to Yaga-sensei and see if he remembers as well. We don't know yet if this is only affecting us, or if it's triggered by something specific we said or did."
She grabbed her bag while he dropped enough cash on the table to cover their meal and damages. They rushed out of the izakaya, practically running to reach his car.
Nobara's arm hair stood on end, every follicle prickling with alarm. She risked a glance at the girl lying motionless on the ground, half-covered in the curse's viscous remains. From this distance, she couldn't tell if she was breathing, but she prayed the girl was merely unconscious.
This was a disaster. She should have called her mentor before rushing in alone.
"Well, well, what have we here? Not one but two delicious offerings for my grand return."
"Hey! Who are you calling an offering, you creep!"
The words left her mouth before she could stop them. The entity possessing the boy's body didn't appreciate her comeback. The unsettling smile vanished as it advanced on her with predatory grace.
On instinct, Nobara grabbed her hammer and launched a volley of nails into the air, striking them mid-flight toward her attacker. The thing smiled again—a flash of teeth in the dim light—and before Nobara could process what was happening, it was squatting directly in front of her, nose nearly touching hers.
She held her breath, bracing for the slice of cursed energy she knew was coming. All she could think about was the shopping bags full of clothes she'd bought earlier today—outfits she'd never get to wear.
Her eyes squeezed shut as her heart hammered against her ribs. After several seconds of nothing, she risked opening one eye. The boy—or whatever inhabited his body—stood several paces away, staring at his hands with genuine confusion.
"What in—"
"Hey! That's no way to talk to ladies!"
Nobara watched, stunned, as the boy's expression shifted like changing channels, his voice alternating between two distinct personalities. After another internal exchange, he turned to her, concern etched across his features. When he stepped forward, she instinctively recoiled.
"Don't come closer!"
"Huh? Are you okay?"
"I said, stay back!"
He raised his hands in surrender. "It's okay, I won't hurt you! I know that was freaky. I don't understand what happened either, but it's like there's something inside me... maybe it's that finger I ate—"
Nobara gagged. "You ATE a finger?! Are you insane?!" She made a show of pretending to vomit. "That's disgusting! Do you just eat random things you find on the ground? Is that fun for you? Boys are so gross!"
The boy stared at her blankly, then suddenly remembered the other girl, rushing to her side. He gently lifted her, checking for signs of life. When he felt her breath against his cheek and saw the subtle rise of her chest, he released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Is she alive?" Nobara asked, her voice softer now.
He nodded without turning. "Yeah..."
Nobara nodded absently, scanning the area to assess the damage. She winced at the destruction.
"I need to get her to a hospital," he said, gathering the girl in his arms as he stood.
"I'll come with you," Nobara said, already pulling out her phone. "Just let me call my mentor first."
Yuji turned to face her fully. "I have a lot of questions."
"Well write them down, because she'll have plenty for you too, Mr. Finger-Eater."
Utahime was gasping for air by the time she reached the top of the steps. She seriously needed to get back in shape. Maybe she'd finally cave and try one of those trendy Pilates studios her friends were always raving about. But now was not the time for fitness regrets; she had a whole past life from a different era to process.
A few lamp bulbs cast long shadows across the property, but no one was there.
"He's already left. So, what now?" she asked, leaning against a railing to catch her breath.
Nanami stood with his arms crossed, his fingers thoughtfully stroking his chin. "Do you feel anything?"
Before she could retort that the only thing she felt was her leg muscles screaming and the painful realization that these boots were made for dates, not for hiking and existential crises, she felt it. A faint, resonant hum. She stood up straight, her body instinctively turning toward the source. She started walking.
Nanami fell into step beside her. "Your technique is linked to others' cursed energy, if I recall correctly."
"That's one aspect of it," she said, her eyes scanning the darkness. "I'm an empath, sort of. I can connect to energy, depending on how it resonates with my own."
She stopped in front of a building that felt older, more significant than the others. It radiated history. She ran her hand over the ancient wooden beams, her fingers tracing the faded, carved scriptures etched into the wood. A jolt of recognition shot through her. She turned to Nanami, who was also admiring the architecture with a newfound reverence.
"This is it," she whispered. "This is where the battle happened."
"Is it?" He looked around, his brow furrowed. "The landscape has changed. I suppose that's to be expected. If our last memory from that life is the battle, then our return could have been the trigger."
Utahime considered his words, her hands resting on the cursed seals nailed into the walls. A delayed reaction, triggered by returning to the scene of the crime. Before she could voice the thought, the large, central door swung open with a slow, deliberate creak.
Nanami produced a machete from seemingly nowhere, the blade gleaming in the dim light. Utahime's hand flew to her bag, her fingers closing around the familiar shape of her own cursed weapon, nestled between a tampon box and a pack of mint gum.
Yaga stood in the doorway, looking less surprised and more... expectant. He moved aside, a silent invitation, just as he had hours earlier for a very different audience. Without a word, Nanami concealed his weapon, Utahime relaxed her arm, and they stepped inside. Yaga closed the heavy doors behind them, and one by one, small fires erupted in wall sconces, illuminating a path forward.
"They knew you were coming," Yaga said, his voice echoing in the sudden silence.
Before they could bombard him with questions—Did you know it was us? Did you do something to our memories? What really happened?—Yaga turned and led them deeper into the building.
They stood before a bare wall, and after a moment of tense waiting, a section of it slid away to reveal an elevator. The descent was agonizingly silent, taking them down what felt like thousands of levels. Utahime kept sneaking glances at Nanami, who looked just as lost as she felt. She tried to form a question, but the words died in her throat every time she looked at Yaga's stoic back.
Finally, the doors opened into a long corridor that led to a vast, cavernous room. Utahime walked slowly, her heart pounding in her chest. And then they stopped.
In the center of the room stood a figure. It was vaguely human, but its form was unstable, shifting, and androgynous. Utahime stared, her lips slightly parted, trying to understand if she was looking at a person, a curse, or a god.
"Iori. Nanami. Welcome back."
Utahime blinked. That voice. It was the last thing she remembered hearing before the world turned white.
"Ma... Master Tengen?"
The figure's mouth curved into a smile. "Well, who else would it be?" There was a faint, dry humor in its tone.
"What happened to you?" Nanami asked, his usual filter failing him. The words hung in the air, blunt and rude. He immediately realized his mistake, and Utahime saw a deep blush creeping up his neck.
"I mean... my apologies. I didn't recognize you."
Tengen shifted its weight, its thin, all-seeing eyes regarding them both. "Well, I should hope so! I used to be quite the looker, as they say in this era. Trust me, I'd be offended if you saw any of my gorgeous former self in this!"
Yaga let out a pained sigh. "Master Tengen's technique is Immortality. However, the technique does not stop the body from evolving. It necessitates a reset every 500 years by merging with a compatible Star Plasma Vessel to prevent their form from becoming... inhuman."
"I have been asleep until the Six-Eyes's cursed energy returned to the world," Tengen continued. "Since then, I have been trying to understand the new state of Jujutsu while waiting for the rest of you to find your way back."
The two reincarnated sorcerers processed this. It was almost too much to take in.
"If you woke up when the Six-Eyes was born nearly thirty years ago," Utahime asked, her voice sharp, "why haven't you found a Vessel since then?"
Yaga gave her a sidelong glance. Her modern, rebellious spirit was a stark contrast to the devoted Miko he'd just remembered her to be.
"Master Tengen was already too far evolved by then," Yaga explained. "It is also too dangerous for them to leave this ancestral barrier in that state. The Six-Eyes is supposed to bring the Vessel to them."
Utahime's heart hammered against her ribs. "So where is he?"
Master Tengen smiled at her. "Your memories only just returned tonight. I expect the others who were caught in my barrier during the battle will slowly find their way here as well."
"Master Tengen, if I may," Nanami stepped forward, his professional tone returning. "The only reason we came here was a coincidence. We met Yaga by chance. Without that, I never would have thought to come here."
"Nothing is a coincidence, Nanami," Tengen said, its voice echoing with ancient wisdom. "If what you say is true, it means I must take a more... active role in attracting the others."
Master Tengen began to pace, a hand on its chin, muttering to itself in a language they couldn't understand. Utahime seized the opportunity to turn to Yaga.
"Sensei," she whispered, "how long have you known?"
He arched a brow over his tinted glasses. "About Master Tengen? A few hours. This property used to be a school. I came to check the vaults and felt their energy as soon as I began my descent."
"And about us?" she pressed.
"You and Nanami? My own memories returned just a few hours ago as well, right after our session. You both felt familiar, and I knew you were sorcerers, but the rest was blank."
Utahime looked around the vast, sterile space. It felt less like a sacred temple and more like a high-tech magic cave.
"So something happened tonight, and all of us got our memories back. Is that the gist of it?"
"That appears to be Master Tengen's theo—"
"Sukuna."
The name was a stone dropped into a still pond. The three of them turned to Tengen, who had stopped pacing. The name hung in the air, heavy and venomous.
"Before my barrier took effect," Tengen explained, its voice losing all trace of humor, "Sukuna realized what I was doing. He broke the seal from the inside, disrupting the very essence of my jujutsu. All your souls were sealed, but he was able to tear apart pieces of himself—his fingers—and send them through the barrier before it fully closed. I saw all of you disappear, but I couldn't deactivate the seal. The combined, clashing energies of both Ryoumen Sukuna and Gojo Satoru had corrupted it. The phenomenon locked away all cursed energy, all curses, and all of you. I had to wait for the Six-Eyes to be born to awaken the Jujutsu world and myself. The fact that you are all only now getting your souls back can only mean one thing."
Tengen's gaze swept over them, its ancient eyes filled with a terrible certainty.
"The pieces of Sukuna that escaped are being brought back together."
Mei Mei looked at the boy and her... ward. How had she gotten stuck with the girl again? Ah, yes. Altruism. And the frankly obscene amount of money the Kugisaki family had paid her to take their headstrong daughter off their hands. Plus, there was a lucrative brand deal in the works for her "pretend daughter," so it wasn't a total loss.
"Repeat yourself," Mei Mei said, her voice flat and impatient. "And this time, try to use actual words. No slang, no nonsense."
Nobara sighed. Her mentor was always 'special,' but tonight, something was more off-kilter than usual.
"He ate a finger," Nobara said, enunciating clearly. "And after that, something else took over his body. Something powerful. And scary."
The boy, Itadori, smacked himself on the forehead. "Yeah, he's a real handful," he said cheerfully. "I can still hear him sometimes, yammering away in the back of my brain."
Tonight had already been a bizarre financial loss for Mei Mei. Memories from a past life had hit her like a market crash: sudden, devastating, and completely without warning. She'd barely had time to process the implications of being a reincarnated sorcerer when her phone had buzzed with Nobara's frantic call about a disgusting boy eating a cursed body part that smelled like rotten feet.
On any other day, she would have hung up, told the girl to handle her own teenage drama, and gone back to calculating her investment portfolio. But the timing was too specific to be a coincidence. So, she'd bought a first-class train ticket to Sendai, and two hours later, she was standing in the courtyard of a very damaged high school, facing what was guaranteed to be a migraine.
"What is your name?" Mei Mei asked, turning her full attention to the boy.
"Uh? Me? Itadori Yuji."
"Any sorcerers in your family?"
"Sorcerer? Like, a wizard?"
Mei Mei rolled her eyes, a movement so practiced it was almost elegant. God, she hated dealing with non-sorcerers. Scratch that. She hated dealing with poor non-sorcerers.
"Have you heard of Jujutsu?"
"Jiujutsu?"
"Are you going to parrot every word I say, boy?" she asked, her voice dropping a few degrees.
Embarrassed, his entire face flushed a brilliant shade of crimson. "No-ma'am. Sorry. I've heard of it, but I only did taekwondo when I was younger."
Silence.
Mei Mei slowly turned her head to Nobara, her expression a clear, unspoken command: Fix this, or I will slap him.
Nobara, who could read her mentor's face better than she could read a 50% off sign at her favorite boutique, immediately jumped in. "Not jiujutsu, you idiot! JU-jutsu! Sorcery! Magic! Curses! Anything that looks like what happened tonight!"
"Oh, that," Yuji said, looking around at the school, where purple goo was still dripping from the roof. "Yeah, no, that's a first."
He remembered the chaos, the strange calm that had come over him, and how Iguchi had been more concerned with structural damage than the purple rain. The woman, Nobara's mentor, had shown up at the same time as an ambulance crew who seemed bizarrely unfazed by the supernatural carnage. They'd asked only about Sasaki's health, bundled her and Iguchi into the vehicle, and left him alone with these two terrifyingly capable women.
Mei Mei turned back to Nobara. "Kugisaki, I have a flight to Taiwan in six hours. I am not taking on new students, especially ones who look like they can't afford a bus ticket, let alone my retainer." Yuji tried not to look offended. "I'll be gone for a month. Stay out of trouble, and don't go anywhere without a Window watching you."
"And what do I do with him?" Nobara asked, gesturing to Yuji.
"Not my problem," Mei Mei called over her shoulder, already walking towards a sleek black sedan where a man in a driver's uniform was waiting. "Keep an eye on him. Otherwise, my job here is done."
Just before she slid into the car, she paused, turning back one last time. "By the way, this has been officially upgraded to a Special Grade case. I'm reporting that you handled it. I don't want questions from the Higher-Ups about this... boy." She gave Yuji a dismissive once-over. "So feel free to share that with him. Or not. I'm still taking my 20% finder's fee for the discovery. Good night."
And with that, the chauffeur closed the door, walked to the driver's seat, and pulled away from the school, leaving them in a cloud of expensive exhaust and unresolved questions.
"So... huh," Yuji began, breaking the silence. "Was that your sister or something?"
Nobara let out a pained, groaning sigh. "No, that's my mentor. I told you. We're not related. She just teaches me about Jujutsu."
"Ah, right. About that," Yuji said, his expression genuinely curious. "I still don't actually know what that is."
He laughed, scratching the back of his head. For a fleeting moment, Nobara felt a surge of pride. She'd been credited with a Special Grade kill! But the feeling died as quickly as it came. She looked at the boy in front of her—the one who had actually taken care of the curse. A boy with no pre-existing cursed energy, who had only won because something ancient and terrifying had hijacked his body.
"Okay, great. Sukuna is coming back. Fucking fantastic," Utahime said, throwing her hands up in the air.
"Calm down, Iori," Yaga rumbled, his voice even.
Utahime stared at him as if he'd just suggested they solve the problem with interpretive dance. "Calm down? Are we processing the same memories? Our last time together, we were all being atomized by a curse god!"
"I believe we should focus on understanding what we are facing this time," Nanami interjected, ever the pragmatist.
"Sukuna was smart," Tengen said, its ancient voice drawing everyone's attention. "He discarded parts of himself outside my barrier. But I can only guess he only got one or two fingers back, or Japan would be on the verge of chaos right now."
"So what does that mean?" Utahime asked, her voice tight with frustration.
"I'm not sure how, but he has reawakened. How? That is what I need to know."
"This is just great... So what's the plan?"
"Finding as many of his pieces as we can before he is able to gather all his power back," Tengen answered.
"And if we're too late?" Nanami questioned, his gaze sharp.
"Then," Tengen said, its voice grave, "we must gather all the sorcerers. With a priority on the Six-Eyes."
Utahime's head snapped up. "Gojo Satoru! The bastard's clan is still living large in Kyoto. My clan's elders have been to their estate for blessings and cleansing rituals for years. But I don't remember them ever mentioning a Six-Eyes."
"As his birth was likely responsible for the return of sorcery, his clan would be aware of his importance. They would hide him," Yaga reasoned.
"So we drive to Kyoto, knock on their door, and explain the situation so we can join forces?"
Nanami's suggestion was met with a humorless laugh from Utahime. "Nanami, you're a cute, very naive man. The Gojos are known even outside sorcerer circles as a mysterious and unreachable family. They don't do 'explain the situation'."
"Gojo Satoru should be reawakened, just as all of you have," Tengen said, its form shifting slightly. "He should find his way to us."
As if on cue, the elevator doors behind them slid open with a soft ding. Three figures stood silhouetted in the entrance, plunging the room into a stunned silence.
"Sensei! Look who decided to show up for the party!" a boisterous voice yelled.
Nanami and Utahime recovered from their shock at seeing Todo Aoi, a story they were sure Yaga would eventually regale them with. But the other two men were a surprise for everyone.
"Zen'in Toji!" Yaga declared, his voice a mixture of shock and recognition.
The man with the scarred lip and inquisitive eyes looked around the cavernous room with utter boredom before his gaze landed on them, annoyed. "Fushiguro," he corrected gruffly. "I took my wife's name."
Utahime raised an eyebrow, part surprised, part impressed by his sheer defiance. But the boy behind him was a complete unknown. Toji didn't wait for them to ask.
"This is Megumi. My son."
Now Utahime had to wonder just how much of a feminist was this new version of the heir of the most misogynist clan. Naming his son with a traditional girl’s name. Bold.
"The Ten Shadows user?!" Yaga asked, incredulous.
"He is," Toji confirmed.
The boy didn't speak, simply existed with the simmering resentment of a teenager dragged to a family function against his will. Utahime had never met Toji's son from the Heian Era. The boy had been hidden away by the Zen'in clan, just as his father had requested. She wondered if this Toji had found his own wife's reincarnation, and how similar this new Megumi was to the original one. At least he'd produced another Ten Shadows.
"Does he know?" Utahime asked softly.
"About the memories? I told him what he needs to know," Toji said, which in his language meant he'd given the boy the bare minimum with zero room for follow-up questions.
Tengen seemed pleased. "See? I told you! Everyone will feel the barrier and come to us."
"And who the fuck are you?" Toji asked, squinting at Tengen's shifting form.
Tengen's cheerful demeanor vanished. "No need to remind me I lost my looks."
"Ten-Master Tengen?!" The shock on Toji's face was a new expression, and Utahime had to admit, it was a good look on him.
"Okay, short synopsis," Utahime said, cutting through the reunion. "Because I'm not rehashing the whole plot until every last one of us is here. We all got our memories back because Sukuna detached parts of himself from a sealing barrier. Now, for some unknown reason, he's back and slowly collecting them back."
"Pieces of him," came the first words from the younger boy, Megumi. His voice was quiet but clear.
"His twenty fingers," Tengen added.
Megumi made a face but didn't ask any further questions.
"So that means the bastard didn't die with us back then," Toji concluded.
"Technically, we didn't die," Nanami corrected, his tone precise. "Our souls were trapped at the same time his fingers escaped the barrier. The return of our memories signifies that the first phase of his return has begun."
Toji and Megumi looked at Nanami with mild interest. "What are our chances for another fight?" Toji asked.
"Dependent on whether we can find his fingers before he does," said Tengen.
"And if you don't?" Megumi asked, his eyes fixed on the immortal sorcerer.
"Then it's a re-do," Tengen said simply. "We will ask every sorcerer in Japan to join us for the final battle."
Toji seemed to chew on this, a grimace crossing his face as he glanced at his son. Then he remembered something else. "What about the Gojo brat?"
"We have to get in touch with the Gojos and secure his help," Yaga said.
"Hmph... those bastards will never give him away," Toji scoffed.
That got Utahime's full attention. "Are you saying you've seen him?"
Toji nodded, a flicker of memory in his eyes. "A long time ago. Twenty years, maybe. I was a teenager, and slipping past the clans' surveillance was an easy game with no cursed energy. But the kid... the Six-Eyes brat... he clocked me right away." A genuine chuckle escaped him. "Only time someone ever has. He might be even more powerful in this era."
"Remind me again why I'm driving you," Nanami asked, his knuckles white on the steering wheel of his sensible sports car.
"I don't have a license," Utahime answered from the back seat, where she was casually filing her nails.
"The court took mine," Toji Fushiguro said at the same time, staring out the window with the bored intensity of a caged tiger.
Nanami sighed, a long-suffering sound that seemed to absorb all the oxygen in the car. He lowered his window, peering through the ornate, intimidating iron and wood of the Gojo Estate gate. "So, what's the plan?"
"The plan," Toji said, leaning closer to him, a predatory grin spreading across his face, "is you park this sad little toy, walk up to the intercom, and tell them Zen'in Toji is here to see their boy."
Nanami didn't even turn around. "No."
“Didn’t you say you took wifey’s name?” asked Utahime.
“I doubt my father sent them a newsletter on the internal affairs of the family.”
"They'll probably kill you," Utahime chimed in, not looking up from her nails. "And then they'll sue Nanami for providing the getaway car. It's a lose-lose."
"Fine," Toji scoffed, settling back in his seat. "Then what's your brilliant idea, princess?"
Utahime finally looked up, a sly smile playing on her lips. "You are thinking like a clan man. Big, important, historical family with baggage and rivalries. It's adorable, really. But you're forgetting something."
"What's that?" Nanami asked, genuinely curious.
"I’m from a servicing small clan," Utahime said simply. "The Ioris are about as threatening as a basket of kittens. We're the ones they call to bless their new buildings and cleanse their tea sets. We're harmless."
She pushed open her car door. "So, the plan is this: I'm going to walk up to that gate, press the intercom, and tell them I'm Iori Utahime from the Sarume line, and I'm here on urgent spiritual business regarding their ancestral wards. They'll be so confused, they'll probably let me in just to not sound dumb."
"And what are we supposed to do?" Toji asked, a note of begrudging respect in his voice.
"You two wait here," she said, grabbing her bag. "Try not to start a clan war before I get back."
With that, she slammed the door and strode confidently towards the intercom, leaving a stunned Nanami and a reluctantly impressed Toji in her wake. Nanami watched her go, then looked at Toji in the rearview mirror.
"She's not wrong," he conceded.
Toji grunted. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."
With a confident smirk, Utahime marched up to the imposing intercom. She pressed the button, adopting a serene, professional tone she usually reserved for dealing with clan elders. "Iori Utahime of the main Sarume line. I'm here on urgent spiritual business regarding the West Ward's protective seals. It's a matter of some urgency."
Silence. Then, a crackle of static. "Name and purpose, please."
Utahime repeated herself, adding a touch more gravitas. Another silence. Then, a heavy, metallic click. The small gate beside the main one swung open. A man in a severe, dark suit stepped out, his expression as rigid as his posture. He looked less like a guard and more like an accountant who'd been handed a taser.
"Iori Utahime," he said, his voice devoid of warmth. He held out a tablet. "I have no record of your appointment. Do you have a summons? A letter of request from the clan head?"
Utahime's blood ran cold. A summons? A letter? Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Her mind raced, a frantic scramble of half-formed plans and increasingly desperate lies. "Ah, yes, the letter... it seems there was a... clerical error. I was informed it was an open matter, given the... spiritual sensitivity of the situation."
The guard's eyes narrowed. "All access is scheduled. No exceptions." He raised a small communication device to his lips. "Security, I have an unscheduled individual at the West Gate. Requesting backup."
Utahime's confident facade was crumbling. She was about to be escorted off the property, or worse, detained. She was mentally composing her apology to Nanami when a shadow fell over the guard.
"Looking for this?" a low, amused voice asked.
Before the guard could even turn, Toji Fushiguro was behind him. He moved with a liquid grace that was utterly silent. He tapped the guard precisely at the base of his skull. The man's eyes rolled back into his head, and he crumpled to the ground in a silent, unconscious heap.
From the car, Nanami's face was a mask of fury. He threw his door open, but Toji was already leaning down, plucking the remote control from the guard's limp hand. He tossed it to Utahime, who caught it with a mix of shock and gratitude.
"Problem solved," Toji said with a shrug.
Nanami looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. "You just assaulted a member of the Gojo Clan! On their own property!"
"Details," Utahime said, her confidence roaring back to life. She pointed the remote at the massive main gate. "Time for a Plan B." She pressed the largest button, and with a deep groan, the ornate iron gates began to swing open.
"You are both insane," Nanami said, shaking his head in disbelief as he watched them disappear into the estate. "We're all going to be dead before Sukuna even finds his second finger."
Once inside, the sheer scale of the property was overwhelming. It was less of an estate and more of a private, walled-off city. Traditional buildings, modern glass structures, and meticulously manicured gardens were all connected by a maze of cobblestone paths.
"Okay, spy time," Toji whispered, pulling her behind a hedge as a patrol of two more guards walked past. "They'll have alerted the whole compound. This would go better if you were not with me to slow me down."
"They have my name!" Utahime said, pointing to herself. "And they're not looking for us, they're looking for an Iori. They'll be sweeping the administrative areas first."
As if on cue, a group of four guards rounded the corner, heading straight for them. One of them pointed. "There! That's the woman from the gate!"
"Plan C," Toji muttered. "You run, I hit."
"No," Utahime said, grabbing his arm. "They're just clan guards. We can handle this without breaking bones. Follow my lead."
She stepped out from behind the hedge, hands raised in a gesture of peace. "Gentlemen! There's been a terrible misunderstanding."
They didn't slow down. "Stop right there!"
"Fine," Utahime sighed. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and began to hum. It was a low, resonant melody that seemed to sink into the very air around them. The seals tattooed on her wrists began to glow with a faint, silver light. The guards stumbled, their movements becoming sluggish, as if they were suddenly trying to walk through deep water.
Toji watched, impressed despite himself. She wasn't fighting them; she was disarming them with a lullaby. He moved then, a blur of motion. He didn't strike them. Instead, he darted between them, tapping pressure points on their necks and shoulders with surgical precision. One by one, they slumped to the ground, fast asleep but completely unharmed.
"Neat trick," Toji noted.
"Thanks," Utahime said, her breathing a little heavy. "But I think they just traced my cursed energy. More are coming."
They broke into a run, navigating the sprawling estate like a pair of seasoned infiltrators. They dodged patrols, ducked behind statues, and used the confusing architecture to their advantage. But it was no use. With every use of her technique, Utahime was a beacon. They were finally cornered in a large, open courtyard by a dozen guards.
"This is your last warning!" the lead guard yelled.
Toji cracked his knuckles. "Time for Plan D."
"Stand down."
The voice was calm, but it carried an absolute authority that cut through the tension like a knife. Everyone froze. From the main building, a woman emerged. She was older, her face lined with an ageless wisdom, and she wore an elegant, traditional kimono. She carried no weapon, but her presence was more imposing than any army.
The guards immediately bowed their heads. "Okusama."
The Gojo Matriarch's eyes, sharp and intelligent, swept over the scene, taking in the unconscious guards, the intruders, and the faint, lingering traces of Utahime's energy. She looked directly at Utahime, then at Toji.
"Iori Utahime," she said, her voice unreadable. "And Zen'in Toji... though I hear you go by Fushiguro now. You have caused quite a bit of trouble on my property."
She took a step forward, and the air grew heavy. "I suggest you both stop what you are doing and explain why you have invaded my home before I decide to treat you with the severity your actions deserve."
This was Utahime's element. Not the brawling or the sneaking, but this—the intricate, high-stakes dance of clan politics. The Gojo Matriarch was the archetype: beautiful, impeccably composed, and radiating a charisma that was both a weapon and a shield.
She didn't ask if they wanted tea; she informed them they would be having it. And so they found themselves seated in the Gojo main tea room, a breathtakingly traditional dojo where the paper screens opened onto manicured views of the estate.
Utahime could feel Nanami vibrating with tension next to her, his desperate need to make a good impression almost comical. The one who truly impressed her, however, was Toji. You could take the man out of the clan, but you couldn't take the clan out of the man. His ingrained reflexes and courtly manners were on full display. It was almost surreal to watch such a primal force handle a teacup with such delicate elegance.
The head of Gojo security, a man with a permanent scowl and a hand that never strayed far from his katana, was glaring at them. Utahime offered him a bright, innocent smile, as if she had nothing to do with the fact that half his patrol force was currently napping.
"So, to summarize," the Matriarch began, her voice as smooth as the tea she poured, "you were all present at the great battle of 816, which ended with your souls being trapped. Your release was contingent on the reactivation of Sukuna's own soul, triggered by the collection of the pieces he severed from his body."
Utahime nodded, popping a piece of mochi into her mouth. "That's the long and short of it."
"Now that the first finger has been 'obtained,' his soul has reawakened, and the souls of all sorcerers present at that battle have returned to their reincarnated bodies."
"Pretty much, yeah," Toji said nonchalantly, rolling his shoulders. Utahime shot him a look that could curdle milk.
"And our Satoru is the reincarnation of the original Six-Eyes who fought the King of Curses."
"I know this sounds insane, even for our world," Nanami said, leaning forward. "But we can take you to Master Tengen if you require—"
"Oh, no, it makes perfect sense," the Matriarch interrupted, a flicker of understanding in her eyes. "It actually answers a great many questions." She snapped her fingers at a waiting attendant. "Miri, please bring me the box."
Miri bowed and left without a word.
"We are glad you understand the situation," Nanami said, seizing the opening. "And we imagine you also understand why we need the help of the Gojo heir."
The Matriarch took a slow, deliberate sip of her tea, closing her eyes. She set the cup down on its saucer without a single sound.
"We understand perfectly. Unfortunately, the Gojo heir has been missing for five years now."
The silence that followed was absolute. It was the sound of three brains short-circuiting.
"I... I'm sorry? Missing?" Nanami was the first to find his voice, his usual composure shattered.
"My son," the Matriarch began, a heavy sigh weighting her words. "Was not the easiest teenager. I will admit our parenting style, while intended for his protection, may have... sheltered him too much for his taste."
"You don't say," Utahime muttered under her breath, earning a rare, judgmental glare from Toji.
"I think I'm the best one here to understand his experience," Toji said, his voice low. "I can't imagine what it's like to have that much power, to be treated like a god, but with none of a god's freedom."
The Matriarch's composure finally cracked, a flicker of pain in her eyes. "We thought we were doing what was best. Very quickly after his birth, our world changed. I'm sure you're aware. Sorcerers regained their ancestral powers, and the number of curse users and bounties on his head... the moment word got out of the first Six-Eyes in a millennium, it was extreme. We had to reinforce the clan, purge our own who let greed rule them, and make the decision to protect the boy who could become the strongest sorcerer of this era."
"How did you lose him?" Nanami pressed. "While I can't imagine anyone being able to keep him in a cage, I assume he knew nothing of the outside world."
"Satoru was an avid consumer of social media," she said, a wry, sad smile touching her lips. "The elders saw it as a harmless diversion. He was raised with the knowledge that the outside world didn't know of Jujutsu and that he could never blend in. Little did we know his curiosity didn't care about blending in. He had mastered his teleportation technique without any of his educators ever realizing it."
That caught Utahime's attention. "He can warp?!"
The Matriarch nodded calmly. "It's incredible," Nanami added, his analytical mind already whirring. "He couldn't do that in his first life."
Just then, Miri returned, carrying a small, lacquered box. Utahime recognized the seals immediately; they were from her own clan's archives. The Matriarch thanked her and placed the box on the low table between them.
"I won't open it," she said, her gaze fixed on the object. "Our ancestors left scrolls explaining the menacing power contained within, but they drew enough for me to recognize it now that I've heard your story." The three of them leaned in, their eyes locked on the box. "The box contained a human finger. Old. It was found on our property in 1685, estimated at the time to be from the Heian era."
Toji held his breath. "Sukuna's finger."
Without confirming, she continued. "If we have found one here in Kyoto, I imagine the others are scattered all over Japan. Potentially in the hands of normal, unsuspecting people."
"This is incredible! Do you authorize us to take it back to Master Tengen for safekeeping?"
The Matriarch hesitated, a conflict warring behind her eyes.
"If Sukuna is awake now that he has a finger," Nanami reasoned, "he will be able to sense the others. He could come to this compound and destroy everything. This is the King of Curses we're talking about. While he'll need all his fingers for his full power, we don't know how many more he has or will get by the time he's drawn to this box. Leaving it with Master Tengen is our only logical option."
"I understand," the Matriarch replied. She thought for a moment longer, her decision solidifying. "Very well. You can take the box. But I will be sending one of my men with you."
Toji sighed. "If this is about trust—"
"It's not about trust, Fushiguro," she said, her voice firm. "It's about doing our part. Not just to escort this cursed object, but to help you do something we should have done long ago: find Satoru." They all stared at her. "Because I imagine you still want his help. Especially if things escalate faster than we anticipate."
Utahime smiled, a genuine, warm expression. "Thank you, Gojo-sama."
"Kusakabe," the Matriarch called out.
The head of security, who had been glaring at them menacingly, looked stunned for a second before bowing sharply.
"You will go with them. Your duty is to ensure the box reaches Master Tengen's barrier, and to assist them in finding Satoru. Our last credible intel placed him in Tokyo."
Utahime looked at the woman, seeing past the clan head to the mother who was still worried for her son, no matter how powerful he was, and who was clinging to the hope of finding him.
"Well," Utahime said as they walked back to the car, Toji with his hands laced behind his head, Nanami still looking shell-shocked as he fumbled for his keys, and Kusakabe looking deeply annoyed but clutching the precious box with unwavering focus. "Let's go back to Tokyo! Next on the agenda: finding the Six-Eyes."