Chapter 6 (Patreon)

Following the aftermath of the previous day and the standing invitation from Mei Mei to come visit, Jiki followed his cousin and his classmates back to Jujutsu High, which led to where he was now: with his awareness and Sharingan, he finally had greater control over the intense cursed energy that seemed to rage just beneath his skin, opening doors he had feared locked since his arrival. 

For all his prodigious talent in the shinobi arts, where he truly flourished was in the use of Genjutsu—imposing your own reality of the world upon others, with both brute force and guile. His Mangyeko established that with the formation of his Tsukuyomi.

Yet where Genjutsu took as much effort as breathing for him in his past life, in this new world he had to fight tooth and nail for every inch of progress. His problem boiled down to one thing: cursed energy.

Heated voices drew his eyes down to the court. He observed the white and black-haired duo as they argued their varying points about the weak, the strong, and their place in society on the basketball court from the stands while Shoko braided his hair from behind him.

He understood Geto's point about looking out for the weak. After all, he had slaughtered his clan to protect the hidden leaf. Ninshu was created to protect and understand each other before it was corrupted into Ninjutsu. Yet he also understood where Satoru was coming from. Why should the strong be forced with the responsibility of protecting the weak? Why give yourself an obvious shackle and handicap?

With an unfeeling shrug, he ignored the brewing argument and went back to his contemplations and experiment.

Genjutsu was applied by sending chakra through one of the five senses and then hijacking the sensory nervous system with the aid of the chakra pathways that sent chakra through the body.

The Uchiha focused on visual genjutsu as a result of their blessed eyes. Yet unlike his clansmen, Itachi had a broader view of Genjutsu. He was proficient in the usage of all five senses to entrap a target, and yet even he could not claim to be unbiased. The Sharingan made a difficult task easy.

Sending chakra through the opponent's eyes with the aid of the Sharingan was as easy as breathing and as subtle as a fish moving through water.

In the elemental nations, shinobi knew that crossing eyes with an Uchiha was enough reason to try and flush out their chakra systems. The really good ones did it in a second, but for most, they never even had the chance to make an attempt.

In this new world, Genjutsu was not a known art, yet it was even harder to apply it. This was simply due to the nature of cursed energy itself. Where chakra flowed in stable pathways that made ninjutsu and Genjutsu easy to apply and manipulate, cursed energy was volatile and arbitrary.

As an energy source that came from negative emotions, it was capricious in its flow. The instability of cursed energy acted as a constant flush; therefore, any cursed energy sent into another was disrupted by the opponent's cursed energy in a second. Yet he was still making headway.

His contemplation was broken by the gym door sliding open, introducing the broad features of the Principal of Jujutsu High. His frown berated the teenagers and forced them to cringe before he even said a word.

"How long are you going to keep fooling around, you brats, and where is Shoko?"

"Hiya!" was Shoko's unenthusiastic response along with a wave. The broad-shouldered man sent brown eyes up to the stands, which widened in surprise as they met his spinning black and red.

"Jiki-kun, I was not aware you were present." He sent an accusing finger at Satoru, which led the man's attention back to his wayward student.

"You're aware that this is a high school, are you not, Satoru?"

Satoru turned his head to the side and scratched it with an abashed expression on his face.

With a heavy sigh, the principal continued, "Be that as it may, the higher-ups have assigned the two of you on a mission, a direct request from Tengen-sama." With a side glance at Shoko, he added in a softer voice, "Yet I don't think anything stops Shoko from joining you."

"I'm sure they can handle it," she said with a wave while standing up. "Someone has to be responsible for the kid while Satoru is away."

With a heavy shrug, he turned around and continued, "Come with me then, Satoru, Geto. We've more to talk about." With a quick wave, Satoru and Geto quickly put on their blue shirt jackets and followed him out.

"Come on then, Jiki, let me introduce you to Nanami-San."

He stood up in one smooth movement and followed behind her. He had an idea of how to go about working with Genjutsu. All that remained was applying it. As for Satoru and Geto, they were strong, so he had no reason to worry about whatever clandestine mission the higher-ups had planned for them.

xxxx

"According to your Instructors, you've been progressing fast."

The old man sat with legs folded in a meditation pose in his dim cavern and faced him with his eyes closed. He gave a single nod of affirmation before the old man continued.

"And yet we still don't know what your Innate technique is." Opening his eyes to stare at Jiki with a placid and uncaring look, he continued, "For all your immense talent, blessed eyes, and potential, you're not complete till you've acquired your innate technique."

He sat quietly and thought about his recent problem. His innate technique. He should've unlocked it by now, and yet he was still seen to be lacking. Few would say it to his face, and none other than the elders would acknowledge it. Yet, it gave reason for dissent among clan members who didn't like the apparent favoritism shown to him.

He was not oblivious to the clan politics being played. He was aware of the two sides of the conflict, yet he was loath to play that game with them. He had played it once and what did it bring him other than loss, misery, and regret?

"I'm aware," he let out in his soft voice, "I feel I'm somewhat close to it, Clan head. It should not be an issue for long, I won't disappoint you."

"I know you won't, child," he agreed before standing up and walking to the edge of the room where a pot of tea and its accompanying cups lay. "With the obligatory scolding done with..."

He walked back to him with a tray of tea and biscuits, "Tell me, how is your painting of the sunset from the top of Mount Takao?" The old man said with a soft smile.

Letting out his own smile for the first time that day, he shifted from his more formal seiza position to a cross-leg position and started talking about one of the few things that really drew his interest in this new world while he took a cup of tea from the old man. "I've found the perfect color

 of blue for…"

xxxx

"The moment Shoko called him, Satoru and Geto were set to return and requested his aide in throwing a surprise welcome-back party, he contacted Aiko and requested a trip to Jujutsu High.

He didn't have anything to do for the day; he was homeschooled in preparation for his Jujutsu High acceptance, and with his intellect, learning the advanced science had not been difficult, although he had no interest in furthering it. He had proved to his instructors he would have no reason to continue under their tutelage, thereby freeing up his schedule greatly.

He had even heard whispers of him enrolling into Jujutsu High early, yet that was all they were, rumors. Their drive ended at the bottom of the long stairs that led to Jujutsu High. Aiko stepped out from the passenger seat and opened his door. He stepped out and with a parting nod at the driver, he turned around and started climbing, hand in hand with Aiko to her secret delight.

By the time they had gotten to the top of the stairs, there were drops of sweat on his face; he cursed his infantile legs as they finally passed through the red gates of Jujutsu High. He felt the slimy feel of a barrier as he stepped past the gate; it was a feeling he was not sure he was ever going to get used to.

His eyes saw the threads of cursed energy that reinforced the barrier and led further into the earth, Tengen-sama's work.

He had not officially met the oldest Jujutsu sorcerer yet, and he was not in a hurry to meet him. The man had lived for over five hundred years; what was a couple more to him? Yet he had heard enough to know that he was the pillar that upheld the secrecy of Jujutsu and curses.

Shoko met them at the gate, rounding up her texting before flipping the phone and walking towards them; beside her were the opposing frowning and smiling visages of Kento Nanami and Haibara Yu.

"They're almost here," Shoko started as she walked closer to them. With a quick ruffle of his hair, she led them deeper into the school and to the gym.

xxxx

He was on the ladder hanging balloons over the gym door when the sound and an accompanying flare of cursed energy hit—a loud boom that sent shockwaves as far back as the gym. An attack, inside the school? was his first thought. Impossible.

He dropped to the floor as he felt even more cursed energy fluctuate, a cursed energy he was familiar with. He didn't even need to exercise his rudimentary sensor abilities to tell the owner. Satoru.

To his surprise, Nanami was already halfway through the door by the time he landed; he had underestimated the blonde-haired teen. He had not let the shock of the incident phase him while Haibara and Shoko were still frozen in surprise.

Pushing them out of his mind, he was only a step behind Nanami. With cursed energy reinforcement, he blurred past him. His smaller physique lent him more maneuverability, his pool of cursed energy, and his precise manipulation granted him a boost in speed that left Nanami as an indistinct visage behind him.

Satoru was hurt. He could feel it in the way his cursed energy recoiled and fluctuated, and yet he was still fighting. Fighting something that his senses could not pick up.

He was barely a minute away from Satoru when he felt his cursed energy disappear. Impossible. Satoru was the strongest. With a reinforced leap, he vaulted over the manor that covered his sight from the last location where he felt Satoru's cursed energy.

Desolation.

That was all his eyes could see. The area was a mess of debris, blood, and a body.

Where lines of houses once stood, now there was nothing but rubble, with an elevated platform that held up a body. A body surrounded by fly heads—common cursed spirits that were no danger of their own. So why was a body beneath them?

A body that his eyes told him was still, a perforated heart buried in a torso bearing a large gash that had torn past the pectoral muscles, ripping aside layers of muscle, fat, and bone to split a torso in two. A body that had a gaping stab wound in the weak side at the top of the skull. A body that his rudimentary sensor abilities told him was leaking cursed energy while some amount of cursed energy lingered.

A dead body, he had to admit after trying to deny the inevitable for so long. A dead body that looked so much like him. A hoarse voice called out a name as he stared at the body: "Satoru."