Summer nights in Tokyo were heavy.
The wind was damp and sluggish.
With every breath, the muggy heat seeped deep into the lungs, and even the air touching the skin felt faintly sticky.
Itadori Yuji climbed the hill without even bothering to roll up his shirt sleeves. The road was quiet, and shadows of people were rare.
It was late, but more than that, there was a specific atmosphere in this vicinity that prevented ordinary people from lingering for long.
Layers of invisible barriers were folded upon one another.
A sorcerer encountering them for the first time would have lost their sense of direction immediately. By the second barrier, their pace would slow; by the third, their memory of how they even entered would begin to blur.
The rest was simple. They would be escorted away by Assistant Directors or simply driven out.
Yuji did not stop.
There was no main gate, no signboards, and no warnings telling people not to enter.
Because such things weren't necessary.
With one more step forward, the air trembled thinly. The barrier attempted to verify the intruder.
Yuji raised a hand and brushed the air once, as if annoyed. He didn't shatter it with force. He merely made the knots of the barrier slip aside for a moment. It was a very minor gesture, but in that instant, the flow of the intertwined technique fell out of sync a beat late.
The sorcerer monitoring from afar gasped.
That wasn't destruction.
He saw the structure of the Cursed Technique and knew how to pass through while leaving the unnecessary parts untouched. That was impossible with just raw power. It required understanding—and a sense even older than understanding.
The main building revealed itself at the top of the stairs.
A few lights were out, and the hallway was dark and long. As befitting a place steeped in authority under the guise of tradition, the building was permeated with a smell that felt unnecessarily old.
Paper doors, dry wood, the scent of incense, ink, and the stubbornness of men.
Yuji walked straight down the wooden hallway, which seemed like it would creak even under a foot not wearing shoes.
In front of a wide room at the end of the hall, someone finally appeared.
It was a man in a black suit. An Assistant Director. He looked to be in his mid-forties. His shoulders were straight and his expression was frozen. Only his eyes could not hide the truth—a mixture of vigilance, tension, and an inexplicable sense of displeasure.
"You cannot go any further."
Yuji did not answer.
The Assistant Director took a breath and continued.
"Identify yourself."
Only then did Yuji stop walking.
At the end of the hallway, beyond the paper doors, multiple presences could be felt overlapping. Old Cursed Energy. Heavy Cursed Energy. It was the scent of those who had lived leaning on barriers and regulations longer than their own bodies.
He looked past the door for a moment, then back at the Assistant Director in front of him.
"Would you even know if I told you my name is Itadori Yuji?"
His voice was calm. There was no decoration, no hesitation.
The Assistant Director's eyebrows twitched slightly. It was likely a name he had never heard before.
Yet, strangely, it didn't sound like a joke or an impersonation. It sounded as if the act of saying it had already completed the identification process.
"Affiliation?"
"None."
"What is your business?"
Yuji turned his gaze toward the door.
"I'll tell the people inside."
A short silence followed.
The Assistant Director did not raise his hand. However, even without a signal, presences rose from both sides of the hallway. Hidden surveillance personnel tightened the barrier simultaneously. The Cursed Technique on the floor activated, and the sealing formulas written on the paper doors glowed faintly.
An ordinary intruder would have frozen in that instant.
Yuji didn't even sigh.
"Are you going to stop me?"
"If necessary."
The Assistant Director's reply was firm, but his Adam's apple bobbed heavily once.
Yuji looked at him for a brief moment before asking,
"The people inside won't come out themselves, I see."
"There is no reason for them to directly face someone like you."
"Then I'll give them one."
As soon as he spoke, the air plummeted.
It was a very brief moment.
He didn't explode his Cursed Energy, nor did he fire a slash. He simply revealed a fraction of his existence, and the air in the entire hallway was crushed.
The floorboards groaned, and the flames in the lanterns flickered low as if lying down. Two of the hidden guards on either side of the hallway fell to their knees almost at the same time.
The Assistant Director's face turned ghostly pale.
He couldn't breathe.
This was different from bloodlust. Intent to kill has a direction. There is a blade aimed to pierce, cut, or kill.
But what was crushing him now was not of that kind. It was a pressure so massive it had no direction. A weight that made one forget which way was up or down, like being suddenly dropped to the bottom of the ocean.
And yet, strangely, neither the doors nor the walls broke.
Yuji was only looking at the paper door at the end of the hallway.
"I'll count."
His voice was low and flat.
"If it doesn't open by three, I'll open it myself."
The presence beyond the door squirmed. It was subtle, but clear.
The old ones were moving. A type of movement that favored compromise over direct action.
Yuji said nonchalantly,
"One."
The Assistant Director clenched his teeth. He tried to move his body, but his legs wouldn't lift easily. He couldn't believe this boy could remain so composed in the face of such pressure. His age, his build, his manner of speaking—it was all so ordinary. Then why was there this much—
"Two."
In that moment, a voice came from inside the paper door.
"Let him in."
It was a low, raspy voice. The voice of one accustomed to giving orders for a long time.
The Assistant Director almost tumbled out of the way. As Yuji passed by him, he instinctively held his breath.
The door opened. The interior was vast.
A long, low table was set in the center of the room, and behind it sat three elderly men and two middle-aged sorcerers.
Behind each of them, an Assistant Director and a barrier master stood like shadows. The faint scent of incense drifted. The room was saturated with the unique atmosphere of those who broke others through posture, silence, and gaze alone.
Yuji did not show respect even after crossing the threshold. He did not bow his head.
One old man spoke slowly.
"It seems you know where this place is."
"I know."
"And yet you enter in this manner?"
"You were planning to tell me to go back anyway."
The old man's eyes narrowed.
"Impudent."
Yuji replied with an indifferent face.
"I guess getting old doesn't necessarily make you heavy."
The air in the room froze.
One Assistant Director tensed as if he might spring forward at any second. Another elder's fingertips moved subtly under the table. It was the preparatory motion for a Cursed Technique.
Seeing this, Yuji let out a small chuckle. It wasn't cold or mocking; it was a short breath of genuine absurdity.
"You'd best keep that tucked away."
One old man asked in a low voice,
"Is that a threat?"
"It's advice."
That tone was actually more grating. Many people flaunt threats. But the boy before them did not flaunt. He behaved as if the outcome were already decided, and he saw no need to raise his voice.
The elder sitting on the far right spoke slowly.
"State your business."
"I'm enrolling in Tokyo Jujutsu High."
Several people in the room stiffened at once.
Yuji continued.
"Specifically, the side where Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru are."
This time, the silence lasted a little longer.
The elders exchanged looks. An intruder with unreadable intentions had pinpointed the school, and specifically those two. It was too accurate to be a coincidence and too blatant to be a simple plan.
"What is the reason?"
"There is one."
"I am asking you what it is."
Yuji looked the old man straight in the eye.
"It's not something you need to know."
At those words, the atmosphere in the room turned sharp once again.
One middle-aged sorcerer finally lost his patience and spoke up.
"There's a limit to how much we'll tolerate this nonsense. Did you really think we would just nod our heads because some unknown brat suddenly appeared and demanded to enter Jujutsu High?"
"I intended to make you nod your heads."
"Impuden—!"
He couldn't finish his sentence.
Because Yuji raised a single finger.
It was a very small motion, but the barrier surrounding the room reacted first.
Though no direct threat had been made, part of the barrier formula lost its light as if it had been snuffed out. Three talismans hanging on the wall tore simultaneously, and the ripples in the teacup on the table froze for a second.
No one could immediately understand what they had seen.
However, their bodies knew.
One of the old men broke into a cold sweat.
This boy hadn't just activated a technique. He read the flow of the barrier and selected only the connecting points responsible for defense and surveillance to erase. With just a fingertip.
'He's dangerous.'
This time, that judgment didn't come from mere caution but from raw instinct.
"What I want isn't permission."
Yuji's voice remained calm.
"It's a decision."
The middle-aged sorcerer shouted through clenched teeth.
"We can just eliminate you here and now!"
As the words fell, the two hidden barrier masters deployed their techniques.
The patterns carved into the floor flashed, and layers of binding formulas designed to constrict rose from all sides. Simultaneously, one Assistant Director drew a Cursed Tool and lunged toward Yuji.
An average sorcerer would have dodged, broken the circle, or defended.
Yuji didn't move. Or at least, it appeared that way.
In the next instant, the Assistant Director who had lunged with his Cursed Tool came to a dead stop. The tip of his blade was inches from Yuji's neck. His wrist wasn't twisted, and his arm wasn't broken. He simply could not move forward.
Because his shadow had been split in half.
A very thin line was carved into the floor.
It wasn't black or red; it was a slender cut-line that looked like a defect in one's field of vision.
Someone muttered under their breath,
"...A slash?"
Without even looking up, Yuji said,
"I had no intention of killing."
Only then did the Assistant Director realize.
He hadn't stopped; he was stopped and spared. If that line had moved just a bit higher toward his wrist, his arm would be gone; if it had grazed his neck, his life would have ended.
The whole room went silent.
Even the middle-aged sorcerer who had been raging earlier shut his mouth.
It was precise. Exceedingly so. It wasn't a display of power, but a confirmation. An overwhelmingly chilling confirmation that stated: You are alive only because I have allowed you to live.
Yuji walked slowly into the center of the room.
"I didn't hide my name."
One step.
"Itadori Yuji."
One step.
"I have no affiliation. But I'm not exactly weak, either."
Taking his final step, he stopped in front of the table.
He was a mere few paces from the elders.
Before anyone could find the distance rude, a heavier sensation overwhelmed the room.
Cursed Energy.
This time, no one could deny it.
Even though it had no form, the pressure was undeniable. The incense in the room was pushed down to the floor, and even inhaling became a chore.
And yet, the floor didn't break. The walls remained intact. No human skin was torn.
Only a human being could sense the truth.
The truth that if this boy truly decided to, he could kill everyone in this room before they even had time to resist.
The elder on the right licked his dry lips.
"...Are you saying your only request... is to transfer to the school?"
Yuji tilted his head slightly.
"For now."
"For now?"
"The rest is what I'll do once I'm inside."
The old man couldn't say anything for a while. This wasn't a negotiation. It wasn't surrender.
It was something worse. A decision with no alternatives.
Finally, the old man in the center spoke.
"We will grant your registration."
The middle-aged sorcerer next to him looked back in disbelief, but the elder stopped him with a hand.
"However, there is a condition."
Yuji's expression did not change.
"Speak."
"Your transfer will be under surveillance. You will follow the school's rules of conduct. Individual action will be restricted. All missions must be reported. And—"
The elder's eyes sank deep.
"Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru will be in charge of your supervision."
Hearing that, a very faint smile finally touched the corners of Yuji's mouth.
It was the first time his face had shown any emotion.
"Supervision, huh? Old man... I guess you aren't that afraid of me?"
The reply was chillingly ominous.
"Fine."
He agreed with that short response.
The elder gave up on asking why.
Why Itadori Yuji was looking for Gojo and Geto, why he appeared at this point in time, what he knew—none of that mattered right now.
Only one thing mattered.
They could not leave this monster wandering outside.
They would rather have him at the school.
They would rather tie him down next to Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru.
They would rather record him, watch him, and wait for an opportunity.
That was the Higher-Ups' conclusion.
"The notification will be sent within the day."
Yuji turned around.
"I won't need to wait then."
"Where are you going?"
Reaching the door, Yuji turned his head just a little.
"The school."
And then he added,
"Those two are going to meet me anyway. No reason to delay it."
The door closed.
No one in the room could say a word for a long time.
The thin cut-line on the floor, the torn talismans, and the still-heavy air were the only things testifying to what had just occurred.
Only much later did the middle-aged sorcerer ask in a raspy voice,
"Are you really... going to let him in?"
The central elder exhaled slowly.
"We aren't letting him in."
His voice was old and clouded, but he couldn't hide the tension woven into it.
"We are tying him down in the most dangerous place."
Someone swallowed dryly. The elder concluded,
"Contact them immediately."
He paused for a second, then added in a low voice,
"Tell Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical High School. That a Special Grade equivalent hazardous entity—Itadori Yuji—is coming."
The lanterns in the room flickered faintly.
And at almost that same time.
At the end of a dormitory hallway at Tokyo Jujutsu High, a male student who hadn't fallen asleep even in the late night suddenly sat up.
Snow-white hair shimmered faintly in the darkness.
Gojo Satoru narrowed his eyes as he looked out the window.
"...What the hell is this?"
His usually playful expression vanished for a fleeting moment. Something was approaching from afar.
He couldn't see it, and he couldn't exactly feel it, but strangely, he was certain.
It was either a hassle, or it was going to be fun. One of the two.
Gojo twisted his lips into a smirk.
"Don't tell me it's both?"
That night, the footsteps of Itadori Yuji walking toward Jujutsu High never faltered.
In the destined summer air, the jujutsu world of the past did not yet know.
Whether what was approaching them now was a blessing, a catastrophe, or both.