The sky above the Zen'in Clan domain was clear that day. Not a cloud. As if the atmosphere itself had cleared to pay homage to the most feared and admired heir of recent times. The central garden had been decorated with sobriety but elegance: hanging white and gold paper lanterns, banners bearing the clan emblem, and servants in impeccable ceremonial attire.
It was Naoya Zen'in's fifteenth birthday.
At that age, other children celebrated with laughter, sweets, and games.
Not him.
For Naoya, that day was a reaffirmation of power. A reminder of his superiority. And, for the first time, it also meant a farewell. Because soon, he would leave the clan domain to join the Kyoto Technical School of Sorcery.
[Perspective: Elder Gaku Zen'in]
"Fifteen years old..." murmured Gaku, one of the three elders of the clan council, as he watched the ceremony from the second floor, tea in hand. "And he's already stronger than many adults."
The old man turned his gaze to the servants who bowed their heads as Naoya walked by. His gait was arrogant, but each step was filled with control. He didn't limp, though it was known that his body still bore internal scars from the battle with the upper-ranking cursed spirit.
"He hasn't mastered the Reverse Curse Technique yet..." commented another elder, Daisetsu, "but the fact that he survived... speaks of a monstrous will."
"Do you see him as a threat or an opportunity?" asked Gaku, seriously.
"Both."
[Perspective: Servant Tomoe]
Tomoe had worked for the Zen'in since she was a child. She had seen generations born and die. But what she felt when she saw Naoya… was different.
It was fear.
The young man approached the head table. His expression showed neither happiness nor excitement for her birthday. Only a crooked smile. A gesture of superiority.
"Maid," he said without looking at her, barely lifting his chin. "The tea is very lukewarm. Heat another. Immediately."
Tomoe bowed her head and obeyed, swallowing hard. As she walked away, she thought:
"That boy… is no ordinary human. And he won't be an ordinary sorcerer either. He's something more. Something that won't stop."
[Perspective: Naoya Zen'in]
Naoya was surrounded by young men from the clan who watched him from a distance. No one dared to get too close. Even those who had previously mocked his age or his attitude now remained silent.
Fifteen years… and I'm still far from Gojo, Sukuna, or Toji.
The thought burned him inside.
For weeks, he had tried to master the Reverse Curse Technique. He knew the theory. He understood how to channel the positive cursed energy. He had read every treatise, memorized the medical texts, studied Shoko Ieiri's records...
And he had failed again and again.
One day, after another night of unsuccessful attempts, he remembered what happened to Satoru Gojo.
Satoru... he was only able to awaken that technique after dying at the hands of Toji. Does that mean that to unlock it... I must die?
The thought had kept him silent for hours.
And since then, an idea began to mature deep within his soul:
True evolution only occurs through the most extreme limit: death.
[Perspective: Naobito Zen'in]
From his elevated seat, the clan leader watched his nephew with a mixture of pride and concern. The sake cup trembled slightly in his wrinkled hand.
"That brat... I don't know if he'll be our greatest hope or our downfall," he said quietly, so that no one else could hear him.
Naobito had already arranged for Naoya to enter the Kyoto Technical School of Sorcery. He had purposely rejected the one in Tokyo. He didn't want Naoya to meet Gojo yet. Not so soon.
He had sent letters. Used favors. And, as a birthday present, he would give him an ancestral clan scroll: a hidden text containing ancient exercises for internal circulation of cursed energy.
Perhaps that would help him get closer to the Reverse Curse Technique.
Or perhaps not.
[Central Moment – The Gift]
When the time came for the gifts, Naobito stood up, coughing slightly, and handed over a black wooden box.
Naoya opened it in front of everyone, showing no emotion.
Inside was a rolled-up scroll, wrapped in purple silk.
"This isn't a gift," Naobito said, his voice deep. "It's a tool. Use it well. Because what awaits you in Kyoto… isn't a school. It's a battlefield disguised as an academy."
Naoya lowered his head slightly, a sign of respect, but his thoughts were elsewhere.
"It doesn't matter what awaits me. If I can't master the Reverse Curse Technique, I'll die anyway."
[Chapter Epilogue – Next Game]
At dusk, as the garden emptied and the servants gathered up the decorations, Naoya gazed toward the horizon from a stone terrace.
"Fifteen years..." he whispered. "In three years, I must hunt a special-rank cursed spirit. And I still can't heal a deep wound without bandages."
He placed his hand on his chest, where he still felt a simmering discomfort.
He closed his eyes.
And then he smiled.
"All right. If to awaken my true potential I have to die...
So be it."