Chapter 1
The rain in Sendai always smelled like wet pavement and childhood nostalgia. But tonight, it smelled like copper and rot.
You stood in the middle of the shattered rooftop of Sugisawa Third High School, your fingers tightly gripping the hilt of your nichirin-steel training katana. The traditional blue haori over your Jujutsu High uniform fluttered in the heavy wind, your dark eyes wide with horror as you stared at the boy standing on the concrete ledge.
“Yuji...” you whispered, your voice cracking.
Yuji Itadori—the boy you had walked to school with every single morning, the guy who bought you cheap strawberry milk after track practice—turned around. His eyes were entirely different. Two jagged, horrific slits had carved themselves open beneath his eyelids, and black, tribal tattoos were bleeding across his skin. Ryomen Sukuna had awoken.
“A sorcerer?” the King of Curses laughed, his voice a deep, gravelly echo that sent a shiver straight down your spine. He looked at his own clawed hands, then raised his gaze to lock onto you. A twisted, malicious grin tore across his face. “No... your cursed energy structure. It’s fluid. Like a rushing river. How fascinating.”
Before he could lunge, a sudden blur of black shadows erupted from the concrete. Two massive divine dogs leaped through the air, snapping their jaws at Sukuna’s heels.
“Itadori! Stay back!” Megumi Fushiguro shouted, stumbling onto the roof, his uniform torn and blood dripping down his temple. He immediately dropped his hands into a shadow sign, his breathing ragged. “He’s a curse now. The execution protocol is absolute.”
“He’s my friend!” you snapped, your stoic, inherited composure completely fracturing.
Sukuna chuckled, raising a hand to swat Megumi’s shadow beasts away like flies. “Such a noisy era. Let’s see how much pressure this little river can take.”
He vanished from the ledge.
Your ancestral instincts, passed down through generations of the Tomioka clan, screamed in your mind. You didn’t panic. You drew a deep, perfectly controlled breath into your lungs, your cursed energy instantly turning cold and heavy, flowing through your limbs like liquid iron.
Water Breathing: First Style. Water Surface Slash.
You spun on your heel, unleashing a horizontal, high-pressure crescent of blue cursed energy. The fluid blade collided directly with Sukuna’s incoming fist. The sheer force of the impact created a concussive shockwave that shattered the glass windows of the school building below, the pressurized water slicing a deep gouge into the concrete roof.
Sukuna skidded back, looking down at the faint, sizzling cut on his palm. His smile widened into something genuinely thrilled. “A technique that mimics the flow of nature. Beautiful.”
Suddenly, Yuji’s hand shot up, slapping his own cheek violently. The extra eyes slammed shut, and the tattoos began to recede into his skin. “Ren... Fushiguro... I’m sorry,” Yuji gasped, his normal, warm voice returning as he collapsed forward into the gravel, completely exhausted. “I didn’t mean to eat it...”
You dropped your katana, rushing forward to catch his shoulders before he hit the deck. “Yuji. Stay awake. Don’t close your eyes.”
“Well, well. Look what we have here.”
A cheerful, entirely unbothered voice cut through the heavy tension of the rooftop.
You looked up to see a tall man leaning against a air-conditioning unit. He wore a dark high-collared jacket and a pitch-black blindfold that completely obscured his eyes. He was holding a small, decorative paper bag from a local sweet shop, waving lazily at you.
“Gojo-sensei,” Megumi muttered, slumping against the wall in relief.
Satoru Gojo stepped down, walking past the shattered concrete as if he were taking a stroll in a park. He stopped right in front of you, leaning over until his unseeable gaze was inches from your face. A massive, quirky grin spread across his lips.
“So you’re the Tomioka heiress,” Gojo hummed, tilting his head. “Your father told me you had a pretty stiff face, but wow, you really look just like the old Taisho scrolls. And you actually made Sukuna bleed on night one? How spectacular!”
“Sensei, the execution,” Megumi reminded him sharply.
“Relax, Megumi! The Higher-Ups are going to have an absolute fit, but I’ve already decided,” Gojo laughed, bopping Yuji lightly on the head to knock him out completely. He looked back at you, his tone shifting into something a fraction more serious, though his smile remained wide. “Your childhood friend is coming back to Tokyo with us. Your plans might have crashed, Y/N, but your adventure is just getting started. Welcome to Jujutsu High.”
