Jin Itadori is Yuji Itadori's father, by the way, also known as the husband of Kaori Itadori. :)
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At exactly 8:31 PM, Satoru Gojo stepped inside the veil of the curtain that had swallowed Shibuya whole. His white hair fluttered slightly, catching the light from the dimly lit cityscape. A faint pressure in the air shifted as the curtain recognized his presence like the world itself was adjusting to his arrival. He was finally here.
He floated effortlessly above the streets, surveying the situation with calm indifference. Below him, hundreds of civilians, dressed in their festive Halloween costumes, huddled together in confusion and fear. Their eyes widened as they looked up, immediately recognizing the figure drifting through the air. "It's Gojo Satoru!" they whispered, their voices laced with desperate hope.
Gojo, however, paid them no mind. His attention was elsewhere, far removed from the panicked crowd. They were safe—for now. No immediate threat lurked among them, and he had more pressing matters to attend to. Without a word, he moved forward, hovering silently over their heads like a ghost as he made his way toward the Shibuya Hikarie ShinQs shopping mall.
As he entered the mall, Gojo's eyes darted over the environment, his mind working quickly to assess the situation. The oppressive aura of the barrier pressed down on everything inside, but he moved through it as if it were nothing more than air. Without pause, he began his descent, heading toward the lowest level: BF5, where the subway system operated.
Gojo's body descended smoothly, his feet barely touching the ground as he floated down the mall's many floors. His hands rested casually in his pockets, his expression relaxed, almost amused. His thoughts drifted momentarily to recent events. Thanks to Yuji and Nobara's interrogation of the Death Womb Paintings, Eso and Kechizu, had already gathered plenty of useful information. He smiled to himself, the memory of his students fighting special-grade curses flickering in his mind. First-year students taking on that level of danger... I am a great teacher, aren't I?
The deeper he went, the more the atmosphere around him darkened. The air grew heavier, thick with malevolent energy. He could feel the presence of curses looming ahead, but even that didn't faze him. This was expected. The only thing that could pose a challenge tonight was the timing of when he'd need to clean up.
When Gojo finally reached the Tokyo Metro BF5 level on the Fukutoshin subway platform, he was greeted by three familiar faces: Jogo, Hanami, and a new presence—Choso. The dim fluorescent lights flickered above them, casting long shadows across the grimy platform floor. The air was thick with the unmistakable stench of cursed energy, almost suffocating, but Gojo stood amidst it all like it was nothing more than a gentle breeze.
He glanced at each of them, sizing them up.
Jogo, the volcano-headed curse, stood closest, his hands already alight with a low flicker of cursed flame. Gojo raised an eyebrow. Ah, Jogo. Haven't you had enough already?
Then his gaze shifted to Hanami. This was the third time they'd met, which Gojo found vaguely irritating. "One too many times," he mused to himself, recalling the last encounter in Kyoto.
Lastly, his eyes landed on Choso, the third of the Death Womb Paintings. Gojo's interest barely flickered. Another death womb painting. He doesn't seem like much of a threat... yet.
"Well, this is interesting," Gojo finally said aloud, his voice casual, almost bored. He looked straight at Jogo, his lips curving into a slight smirk. "I hope you don't have an excuse ready this time."
Jogo's eyes narrowed, flames dancing around his hands as he stepped forward. "You should have your first-ever excuse ready, sorcerer," he growled. His voice was tight with anger, but there was a flicker of something else in it—fear. He knew what he was up against.
Gojo chuckled, the sound light and almost mocking. Slowly, he reached up to his face and raised his blindfold, revealing his piercing blue eyes beneath. The cursed energy in the air rippled violently as his presence intensified. His eyes, glowing with infinite power, were impossibly clear—like gazing into the purest sky, yet carrying the weight of a star ready to collapse.
"Don't worry," Gojo said, his voice smooth, each word laced with undeniable authority. His grin widened slightly. "I'll be merciful. I won't kill you too quickly."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Jogo tensed, flames bursting brighter around him, and Hanami's cursed roots twitched in response, the battlefield crackling with anticipation.
...
Confronted by three special-grade curses—Jogo, Hanami, and Choso—Satoru Gojo stood confidently on the subway platform, his hands still casually in his pockets. The oppressive, heavy air thickened as Hanami's roots slithered across the floor and walls, blocking every possible exit. The roots curled like living chains, trapping everyone in the underground station.
But Gojo didn't flinch. His blue eyes scanned the roots before meeting Hanami's gaze. "Not like I was going anywhere," he said, his voice dripping with nonchalance. "If I leave you alone, you'll massacre everyone here."
Jogo stepped forward, flames licking the air around him, his volcanic face twisted in a sneer. "Gladly!" he shouted, his voice burning with murderous glee. "We'll slaughter all these humans anyway. It's what we do."
The civilians standing nearby, who had initially been too stunned to move, suddenly panicked as the threat became clear. Screams erupted as Hanami's roots pushed them, forcing them off the safety of the platform and onto the tracks. They were now surrounding Gojo and the three curses, trapped between monstrous killers and a god-like sorcerer they barely understood. The chaos of the subway station now resembled a nightmare, with hundreds of people pressed into an unwitting arena.
Gojo, unfazed, cast a glance at the regular people scrambling around him. His expression didn't change, but his voice carried a sharp warning. "If you don't want to die, stay out of my way."
There was something almost casual in his tone, but his words carried weight—like gravity, undeniable and absolute. The civilians, still in shock, stumbled back, trying to give him space, but the platform was small, and the danger was too close.
As Gojo surveyed the situation, his analytical mind worked quickly. Hanami's roots blocking the exits had created an unforeseen problem—blind spots. Gojo couldn't blast through the barriers without risking innocent lives on the other side. His options were limited, at least for now.
Suddenly, Jogo lunged forward, flames bursting from his body in a terrifying wave of cursed fire. Several civilians caught in his path screamed as the flames consumed them, their bodies charring in an instant. Hanami followed closely behind, their cursed energy manifesting into sharp roots that slashed through the air like deadly spears.
Gojo's piercing eyes flicked toward the attacks, but his body remained still. His cursed technique, Infinity, activated without effort, creating a barrier of invisible space between him and the incoming onslaught. The attacks stopped just short of touching him, frozen in place as if caught in an invisible web. Gojo stood in the eye of the storm, untouched, his expression unreadable.
Jogo's eyes narrowed. "Still hiding behind that technique of yours, huh? Let's see how long that lasts."
From the side, Choso raised his arm. Blood dripped from his fingertips, condensing into a razor-thin disc that shimmered with cursed energy. With a sharp flick of his wrist, he unleashed his attack—Slicing Exorcism. The disc shot forward at blinding speed, slicing through the air toward Gojo's head.
But, like the others, the attack stopped just short of Gojo, unable to breach his Infinity.
Gojo's eyes flicked to Choso, a subtle amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. "Another Death Womb Painting, huh? You're going to have to try harder than that."
Jogo and Hanami weren't done, though. They stepped forward in unison, their cursed energy swelling, coiling around them like a living force. Then, with a shift in the air, their techniques changed. Gojo's eyes sharpened as he sensed the shift.
Domain Amplification.
The energy surrounding the curses expanded, not in a barrier, but in a wave—a technique that could neutralize the Infinity by surrounding him with cursed energy like water flooding a space. Unlike normal domains, which boxed their targets in, Domain Amplification washed over its target, preventing Gojo from maintaining his impenetrable defense.
For the first time, Gojo moved. With a flicker of motion, he dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding Jogo's fiery fist as it crashed into the ground where he had stood moments before. The flames scorched the platform, leaving blackened, cracked concrete in their wake.
"So you've learned some new tricks," Gojo remarked, a spark of excitement flashing in his eyes. He was still smiling, but there was something more dangerous in that smile now—something lethal. He straightened, brushing a stray strand of white hair from his face. "Looks like you picked this up from a curse user. Domain Amplification, huh? Smart move. Neutralizes Infinity. But it won't be enough."
Jogo and Hanami pressed their advantage, their attacks synchronized as cursed roots and flames tore through the air, each strike threatening to overwhelm Gojo's defenses. Choso fired another blood disc, this one even sharper, spinning through the air with deadly precision.
Gojo's body blurred as he dodged with inhuman speed, his feet barely touching the ground. The entire platform was alive with cursed energy, a maelstrom of destruction that should have been enough to bring down any sorcerer.
But Gojo wasn't just any sorcerer.
Amid the chaos, Gojo let out a soft chuckle. His excitement was building. His eyes gleamed with pure, unfiltered power. This was getting interesting.
"Now I might enjoy this fight."
...
Before the chaos of the Shibuya Incident, Geto Suguru had already laid the foundation for their plan. He'd gathered his allies and advised them carefully: Satoru Gojo is at his best when he's working alone. No matter how powerful the ally, anyone else would just get in his way. Geto had smirked, his mind already working through the details. Inferior non-sorcerers will only restrict his movements, rendering him incapable of using his full cursed techniques. In such a situation, Satoru would be forced onto the defensive, and even his Domain Expansion would be a liability.
The plan was simple in theory but required precision in execution. Kill time. Keep Gojo occupied for twenty minutes—just long enough for Geto to be ready with the Prison Realm.
Back at the Tokyo Metro – BF5 Subway Platform
Jogo, flames crackling from his molten skin, watched Gojo with burning anticipation. "Don't forget the rules, Gojo," he growled, a wicked grin spreading across his volcanic features. Without hesitation, Jogo reached out and snatched a nearby civilian's head clean off, the body crumpling to the ground as blood splattered across the platform. The crowd screamed in terror, scrambling away from the carnage.
"You're not allowed to run away," Jogo sneered, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. "You'll stand and face us, no matter how many people we have to burn."
Gojo's expression remained calm, his piercing blue eyes locked onto Jogo. "I'm not running." His voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of danger behind his words.
Jogo's grin widened. "Surprised, Gojo? Maybe this will be your first-ever excuse."
For a moment, Gojo's eyes flickered with amusement as he adjusted his blindfold, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Surprised? Sure." His voice lowered, the teasing edge gone. "Surprised that you think you can use those poor excuses for brains against me."
Gojo's blindfold slid up, revealing his Six Eyes, gleaming with an intensity that made the cursed energy in the air vibrate. His gaze sharpened as he looked directly at Hanami. "We've met three times now. That's one too many. The weed's getting cut first."
Hanami's roots twitched, but Gojo didn't flinch. He was focused, fully aware of what they were trying to do—force him into a defensive position, delay him, buy time for something. But none of it mattered. Gojo had no intention of letting them dictate the terms of this fight.
Meanwhile, at Tokyo Tower
Far across the city, in the eerie silence atop Tokyo Tower, Yuji Itadori stood over the nearly unconscious body of Tatsuya. His breath was steady, his eyes impassive, but his mind was anything but calm. Granny Ogami, standing just a few feet away, watched the scene unfold with mounting dread. Moments ago, she and her "grandson" had successfully set up one of the control towers for the curtain meant to trap Gojo. Everything had been going according to plan—until this young sorcerer appeared.
Yuji's expression was unreadable as he stared down at the beaten Tatsuya. Ogami could barely breathe, her body frozen with fear. How did things go so wrong, so fast? she thought. She had been planning to replace this boy with Yuji, to make him one of her new "grandsons," but Yuji had beaten Tatsuya effortlessly, and now, his cold gaze was locked onto her.
"Do it," Yuji said, his voice steady but laced with something darker. His stare pierced through her, and she felt a shiver run down her spine.
Ogami stammered, her voice trembling. "W-what... do you mean 'do it'?" Her hands trembled as she clutched the staff in her grip, desperately trying to maintain control over the situation.
Yuji sighed, running a hand through his hair, his mood visibly shifting. "I hate switching..." he muttered, his voice low. At that moment, his entire demeanor changed. His hair darkened, taking on a deeper shade, and his eyes shifted to a familiar pale red color. The transformation was instant and unmistakable.
The figure now inhabiting Yuji's body stretched lazily, rolling his neck as if waking up from a long nap. "What he meant," the voice said, a tone far more sinister and mocking than Yuji's, "is for you to turn your kidnapped child into Toji Fushiguro."
Ogami recoiled, her face paling as she took a shaky step back. This was no longer Yuji. The presence radiating from him was darker, more intense, and completely foreign. She had dealt with many sorcerers and curses in her lifetime, but this—this was something else entirely.
"W-who... who are you?" she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.
Jin smiled, this was getting fun. He cracked his neck, his movements languid and unconcerned. "Me? Hmm..." He paused as if considering the question. "Call me Jin," he finally said, the name rolling off his tongue with a certain detached amusement.
Ogami's breath hitched. This was beyond anything she had anticipated. She had no idea what she was dealing with. Her hands tightened around her staff, but her mind raced, trying to figure out how to escape this situation alive.
Jin—Yuji—cocked his head slightly, his red eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. "Now then, Granny... You're going to follow through with your little plan, aren't you? After all, it would be rude to keep Toji waiting."
...
Jogo and Hanami darted around the platform in a deadly dance of hit-and-run tactics, their attacks coordinated with Choso's support. Choso's beams of blood, concentrated into lethal streams, sliced through the air, each shot aimed with cold precision. Though his true target was elsewhere, his attention was only focused on killing Yuji Itadori. The situation was becoming more chaotic by the second, and yet, Satoru Gojo stood in the center of it all, unshaken.
But something shifted.
Jogo's fiery eyes widened in fear. A cold sweat broke across his brow as he noticed a disturbance in the cursed energy surrounding the area. "The curtain... it's been broken."
Hanami glanced at him sharply. "What's wrong?" the curse asked, sensing Jogo's sudden dread.
Jogo's voice trembled, his bravado slipping. "Even those who don't care about the details know this is bad. If the curtain's broken—"
Gojo, sensing the shift in their mood, let out a laugh, the sound resonating across the subway platform. He turned toward them, his piercing blue eyes alight with amusement. "Oh, that? Yeah, I already trusted Yuji with that. Took him a while, though."
Jogo stared at Gojo, the realization dawning. Yuji Itadori had broken the curtain. The plan was falling apart.
Gojo tilted his head, his smirk widening. "My students are something, huh? It's a shame you'll die never seeing just how far they'll go."
Meanwhile, at Tokyo Tower
Granny Ogami, standing above her defeated "grandson," focused her remaining energy on activating her cursed technique: Seance. Her grandson's lifeless body began to twist and morph, his features shifting as the ritual took hold. His body became that of another man, one feared and spoken of in hushed whispers—Toji Fushiguro, the "Curse of the Zen'in."
Ogami smiled, her mind filled with confidence. Once I have control of Toji Fushiguro's body, I will have the power of a legend at my command, she thought. Of course, her grandson would die in the process, but that was a necessary sacrifice. With Toji under her control, no one could stop her.
As Toji's transformation was completed, his body stood tall and imposing. His cold eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the old woman in front of him and the teenage sorcerer with the unsettling grin standing nearby.
His mind worked quickly. He understood immediately—he had been revived. But unlike what Ogami expected, Toji had full control of his body. No cursed energy, he thought, almost amused. That's why I can stay like this indefinitely. This fool thought she could control me.
Ogami, unaware of the reality, looked up at him expectantly. "Uh... grandson, are you okay?" she asked, her voice hesitant.
Toji didn't respond. Without a moment's hesitation, he lunged forward, driving his fist through Ogami's chest with brutal efficiency. Her eyes widened in shock and horror as her life left her body. Toji wiped his hand clean of the blood, his expression indifferent. Best to get rid of her before she had any chance of undoing the spell.1
From behind, the teenager's voice broke the silence. "Yo!"
Toji's sharp instincts felt it—the kid had touched his shoulder, but no harm came. He turned to face him.2
The boy smirked. "I'm Jin, the resident soul inside Yuji Itadori's body, but you probably don't care about that." Jin shrugged lazily, his eyes gleaming with playful malice. "Anyway, blah, blah, blah—Satoru Gojo is down there." He pointed in the direction of the Tokyo Metro.
Toji's gaze followed the direction of Jin's hand but quickly returned to the boy. There was something off about him, something Toji couldn't quite pin down—but it intrigued him.
"Your son, Megumi Fushiguro, is over there. He's fine for now," Jin continued, his tone casual, as if they were discussing the weather. "But there are about seven special-grade curses in the area. Mind helping me out?"
Toji's eyes narrowed slightly. Checks and balances, he thought, analyzing the situation. He wants me to kill the other curses... and then there's him... He stepped forward slowly, towering over Jin. "And why would I help you?" His voice was low, dangerous.
Jin didn't flinch. Instead, he let out a small laugh, tapping his chin as if in thought. "Hmm, you're probably going to kill me, aren't you? That's not ideal." Jin pulled out a phone, holding it up to Toji's face. "But look at this."
Toji glanced at the screen. There, clear as day, was a bank transfer—10 million dollars. Direct. Immediate.
Jin grinned. "You're a bounty hunter, right? Every special-grade curse you take out is 10 million. Oh, and by the way, that's Gojo's money."
Toji's lips twitched ever so slightly. Gojo's money, he mused. It wasn't the first time someone tried to buy him, but there was a certain poetic irony in using Satoru Gojo's wealth. Stretching his limbs with a nonchalant grace, he turned his back on Jin.
"10 million per curse, right?" Toji said, cracking his knuckles. "I'll be done in an hour."
Without another word, Toji hopped off the edge of the tower, his form disappearing into the night as he made his way toward the Tokyo Metro.
Jin watched him go, letting out a deep sigh of relief. His entire body relaxed as the tension evaporated. "Whew... you see that, Yuji?" he said, his tone light, but edged with nervousness. "I was this close to dying. Man, your body's been through a lot."
Pausing for a moment to collect himself, Jin chuckled. "Well, anyway... time to finish our little act."
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[Auther: Yo. You see where this is going, right? Jin is planning on wrapping things up right here, right now.]
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