Two months passed since the seeds were planted.
The once modest patch of soil in the eastern wing of the Gojo estate had transformed into something almost sacred. The air shimmered with energy, the kind even untrained eyes could sense. Birds refused to fly too close. Insects buzzed at the borders and then turned away. And the maids? They took wide, respectful paths to avoid getting within ten meters.
Word spread — among clan members, among elders, and inevitably, to the clan head himself.
"Prepare the elders," he said one morning. "We visit Shiori's garden today."
And so, the gathering began.
Dozens arrived — elders with stiff postures and glowing eyes, younger members dressed in ceremonial robes, even a few maids and guards trailing behind with curiosity barely contained.
As they neared the edge of the garden, the group halted.
They could feel it — an invisible, radiant wall of pressure. A barrier not of hatred or violence… but of life. Like stepping near the sun. It was warm, comforting, but clearly dangerous.
The clan head narrowed his eyes. "Is this… cursed energy?"
"No," murmured an elder. "It's something else. Something foreign."
The leaves rustled gently in the wind, as if acknowledging their presence. The barrier parted suddenly, like curtains pulled aside — and standing there was Shiori, in white, sunlight cascading across his hair like falling snow.
His crystal-blue eyes gleamed as he smiled. "You may come in now."
Slowly, hesitantly, the group entered.
The illusion melted away. What they saw made even the most seasoned sorcerers pause in awe.
The garden was alive. Not simply living — but breathing. Five distinct trees stood at the center, each pulsing with a faint aura. Their leaves glowed faintly, and from each tree, a single fruit hung, glowing like stars wrapped in skin.
One was shaped like a crescent moon, striped with gold. Another shimmered with swirling patterns. Each one was entirely unique, yet shared one trait: power.
Raw, pure, overwhelming power.
An elder stepped forward, entranced. "This… this is—"
"Devil Fruits," Shiori said calmly. "Each one contains a different ability. My garden grew them — a gift of my technique."
Murmurs rippled through the visitors.
"I welcome your curiosity," Shiori said, voice gentle but firm. "But understand this—"
He raised his hand, and the ground trembled. For a brief second, everyone felt it — the scorched memory of the spy who tried to trespass.
"Anyone who attempts to steal or tamper with the garden without my permission…" Shiori's eyes glowed ominously, "will burn."
A silence fell.
Even the most proud elders bowed their heads.
The clan head, surprisingly, laughed. "Good. Very good. You protect what is yours, Shiori. That is the way of the strong."
Shiori bowed his head lightly, then turned to a figure standing at the edge of the group.
Gojo Haruko.
He was a guard — not a sorcerer of great fame, but someone loyal. He'd been assigned to watch over Shiori since his birth. He never asked questions. Never got greedy. Always respected the boy's space.
And Shiori remembered.
"You," he said, pointing to Haruko. "Step forward."
Haruko looked around, startled. "M-Me?"
"Yes."
The crowd parted as Haruko stepped into the center, nervous but obedient. "What is it, young master?"
Shiori gestured to one of the glowing fruits — the one shaped like a curved disc, burning faintly with orange-red energy.
"This is for you," Shiori said. "It's called the Bari Bari no Mi. The Barrier Fruit."
Whispers spread like wildfire. "He's giving it away?" "To a guard?" "What kind of fruit is that?"
Haruko hesitated. "I… I don't understand."
"You've watched over me," Shiori said simply. "And I trust you. That is enough."
The fruit floated gently toward Haruko, as if carried by unseen wind. Haruko caught it and blinked.
He took a single breath and bit in.
The moment his teeth pierced the flesh, the cursed energy in the garden surged. The fruit crumbled into light and vanished — absorbed.
Haruko's body trembled.
Then — BOOM.
A radiant hexagonal shield erupted around him, pure and crystalline. Not like the usual cursed barriers. This one felt… absolute. Impossibly strong. A barrier that shimmered with invincibility.
The elders gasped.
One of them stepped forward, hand outstretched. "Incredible! A technique manifesting from a single fruit! I want one too. Shiori, give me the next one!"
The mood soured instantly.
Shiori's expression turned cold.
"No."
"But I am an elder! I have—"
Shiori raised his hand, and the garden pulsed. A translucent wall exploded in front of the elder and blasted him back out of the garden entirely. He landed on the grass outside, coughing violently.
"Only those I deem worthy may eat these fruits," Shiori said, voice no longer childlike. "Your greed is ugly. Get out."
The other visitors froze.
The clan head chuckled darkly. "Heh. Reminds me of myself when I was younger."
He stepped forward and patted Shiori on the head. "You've made your mark, Shiori. The clan will never forget this day."
The rest of the visit passed in stunned silence. No one else dared ask for a fruit.
And deep in the garden, four remaining fruits pulsed gently — waiting.