The moment their fists met, the result was absolute.
BANG!
Todo Aoi's right hand didn't just break—it exploded. Flesh and bone fragmented into a fine crimson mist that sprayed across the ground. The destruction traveled up his arm in an instant, reducing the entire limb to a shower of blood and tissue.
The scene was instantaneous. Brutal. Horrifying.
"AHHH!"
The watching students recoiled in terror. Miwa stumbled backward, her face pale as death. Nishimiya's scream pierced the air. Even Kamo Noritoshi, trained and composed, felt his blood run cold.
Todo Aoi stood frozen, staring at the stump where his right arm had been. His face was blank—not with pain, but with utter incomprehension. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was Todo Aoi. He was strong.
Kamo Itsuki's hand landed on his shoulder.
And then, impossibly, miraculously—the arm grew back.
Flesh knitted. Bone reformed. Blood vessels wove themselves into existence. In seconds, Todo's right hand was whole again, as if it had never been destroyed.
But Kamo hadn't used Reverse Cursed Technique. This was something else. Something faster. More efficient.
Idle Transfiguration.
Mechamaru watched with eyes that couldn't blink. His mechanical heart—if he had one—would have raced. 'He healed him instantly. Completely. If he can do that... then he really can fix me.'
The other students remained frozen, minds struggling to process what they'd witnessed.
Kamo Noritoshi's thoughts churned. 'Blood Manipulation? That was Blood Manipulation? How? How is that even possible?' He had always known Kamo Itsuki was on another level, but this—this was like watching a different technique entirely. He felt suddenly, profoundly inadequate.
Kamo Itsuki's voice cut through the stunned silence, cold and dismissive.
"If you have extra cursed energy, go exorcise some Cursed Spirits. Is this what your power is for? Bullying and fighting?"
He didn't look back at Todo. Didn't wait for a response.
His gaze shifted to Kamo Noritoshi. "You're Kamo Noritoshi. Stay at Jujutsu High. I have something to discuss with you after I'm done with Mechamaru."
Then he walked away, Mechamaru following, leaving a group of shell-shocked students in his wake.
The secret base was hidden deep, far from prying eyes. Damp and moldy, the walls covered in moss, it was a place no one would willingly inhabit.
Tubes filled with nutrient solution ran like a spiderweb, all converging on a single point: a tank in the center, where a body floated in pale liquid.
The figure inside was wrapped in bandages, limbs truncated, body broken. Kokichi Muta.
"Teacher Kamo." The voice was weak, filtered through speakers, but polite. "I apologize for not being able to greet you properly."
Kamo waved away the apology, approaching the tank. His gaze took in every detail—the missing limbs, the atrophied muscles, the cruel evidence of a Heavenly Restriction pushed to its most extreme.
Kokichi Muta had been born without his right arm, without legs below the knees, without sensation below the waist. Sunlight caused him agonizing pain, so he had lived his entire life in this sunless cave.
In exchange, he had gained an ability that few could match: a cursed technique range spanning nearly all of Japan, and output efficiency that let him punch far above his weight class. Through his puppets, he could operate as a Grade 1 Sorcerer. At full power, he could rival a Special Grade.
But if given the choice, he would trade it all. Every ounce of power. Every advantage. Just to be normal. Just to stand in the sun. Just to meet the person he loved.
"Teacher Kamo," Kokichi said, anticipation trembling in his weak voice. "Tell me how to cooperate. I'll do anything."
"Just have a puppet bring you clothes. This will only take a moment."
Kamo reached through the tank's opening and placed his hand on Kokichi's shoulder.
Idle Transfiguration.
The change was immediate—and profound.
Kokichi gasped. For the first time in his life, he felt his right hand. Fingers. Palm. Wrist. Then sensation spread downward—hips, thighs, knees, calves, feet. All the places that had been numb, empty, absent suddenly blazed with life.
He stood. Slowly, shakily, but stood. He moved his new arm, flexed his new fingers, took one tentative step, then another.
The puppet brought clothes. He dressed himself for the first time in his life.
When he was done, Kokichi Muta turned to Kamo Itsuki and bowed—a deep, sincere bow of utter gratitude.
"I don't know how to thank you. Truly. Thank you. Thank you so much."
Kamo's expression remained calm, unmoved by the emotional display.
"You don't need to thank me. Just remember your duty as a Sorcerer."
He turned to leave, but paused at the entrance.
"You have a new body now. Use it well."
And then he was gone, leaving Kokichi Muta standing in the sunlight that streamed through the now-open door—feeling it on his skin for the very first time.
"Why did you save me?" Kokichi Muta asked, looking up with genuine confusion in his newly healed eyes.
Kamo Itsuki met his gaze without hesitation. "I'll tell you plainly."
He folded his arms, his expression turning serious.
"In the near future, the final battle between sorcerers and Cursed Spirits will arrive. I need to strengthen our side as much as possible. Every powerful sorcerer increases our chances of survival." He paused. "Simply put, I value your strength."
Kokichi's eyes widened slightly. Of all the answers he had expected, this wasn't one of them. He had assumed Kamo's motives were purely experimental—research, data, advancement of knowledge. But this?
"I don't know exactly what's coming," Kokichi said slowly, his voice gaining strength, "but if I can help, I'll give everything I have."
Kamo shook his head. "Don't feel pressured. Most of the enemies will be handled by me. Your priority is survival."
He met Kokichi's eyes with quiet intensity. "I didn't heal you just to watch you die soon after. A future only exists if you're alive to see it."
The words hung in the air between them.
Kokichi's thoughts immediately turned to Miwa Kasumi. Her bright smile. Her kind eyes. Her unwavering faith in him even when he could only exist through a puppet.
'The final battle... it must be brutal. I don't care about my own safety. But I have to protect her. No matter what.'
A silent vow, carved into his newly beating heart.
The return journey was instantaneous. Without Mechamaru needing to lead the way, Kamo simply teleported them both back to Kyoto Jujutsu High.
Kokichi didn't follow him onto the campus grounds. He needed to return to his secret base first—to organize his puppets, pack his equipment, and close that chapter of his life.
But Kamo suspected the real reason was simpler.
'He wants to prepare himself. To look presentable. To give Miwa Kasumi a proper surprise.'
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched Kamo's lips.
"Falling in love," he murmured to himself, "truly is youth."
He caught himself and shook his head wryly. "What am I sighing about? I'm not old enough to be sentimental."
He straightened his posture and refocused. There was still work to do.
Without warning, Kamo Itsuki materialized directly in front of Kamo Noritoshi's dormitory room.
The door was closed. The afternoon light slanted across the simple wooden surface. Somewhere inside, his young clan member was probably still reeling from the day's shocking events.
Kamo raised his hand and knocked.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Kamo Noritoshi. We need to talk."