Yaga stood stiffly before the council of elders at Jujutsu High. His hands were clasped behind his back, shoulders squared, as he braced himself for the storm of questions he knew was coming.
From behind a tall, semi-translucent partition that cast only the faint outline of its occupant, a low, unsettling voice cut through the chamber.
"So… is it true?"
Yaga swallowed before replying.
"It is. The three first-years exorcised a special grade… an exceptionally dangerous one at that. They came out relatively unscathed as well." His words were steady, but there was a faint trace of disbelief in his tone. "We scoured the site of the battle and confirmed large scale destruction, along with overwhelming remnants of cursed energy."
A second elder leaned forward, voice sharp.
"Where would you rank their capabilities?"
Yaga hesitated. He looked down briefly, as if he was choosing his words carefully.
"The heir of the Gojo clan and the curse manipulation user are already on the path to becoming special grades. Their potential is… unfathomable." He paused thoughtfully before continuing. "As for the Kamo clan's heir; he is already a semi–Grade 1 sorcerer. Apart from his combat ability, his mastery over Reverse Cursed Technique is… remarkable. To a level that is beyond our comprehension."
The room fell silent.
Behind one of the screens, the outline of a broad-shouldered elder shifted. A faint, prideful smile touched his lips. This was Kamo Dairoku, the Kamo clan's current strongest sorcerer. His sharp, hawk-like eyes glistened slightly
His long hair, once jet black, was streaked with silver and tied neatly behind him, though a few rebellious strands fell onto his face. He wore the traditional Kamo robes with an almost intimidating dignity. A faint scent of iron clinging to him. Despite his years, his presence was anything but withered.
'So, the brat's finally making waves…' Dairoku thought, closing his eyes in amusement.
But his musings were tinged with memory. He recalled the day he'd spoken against the boy in the council of the Kamo clan's elders, doubting the ancient relic that had been thrust upon the child. He remembered Reiji's pale face then, trembling in despair, fear, and something else he had not been able to discern.
Fate, however, had turned its hand. The council had voted Dairoku to be both guardian of the Kamo heir… and his executioner, should the time come. It was only natural. He was, the clan's mightiest after all.
Dairoku's smile deepened faintly as he remembered walking into the boy's chambers years ago. Reiji had been seated in a pool of his own blood; eyes closed in eerie focus. To Dairoku's shock, the child had awakened Reverse Cursed Technique at a staggeringly young age.
Reiji was far too frail to excel at blood manipulation… the constant anemia left him collapsing after performing Piercing Blood once or twice at most. But with Reverse Cursed Technique, everything had changed. It granted him, at double the cost; a near-unlimited supply of blood. More importantly, it made him a natural healer, given that his control was already precise beyond his years.
Curiously, Reiji had never seemed especially talented. His progress was slow, sometimes painfully so. But it was exponential. Whenever he struck a wall… time and relentless effort carried him through. Until eventually, he broke past it entirely. Unlike the meteoric bursts of other prodigies, his progression was steady, inevitable, and meticulous.
'You're doing it again, aren't you, Reiji?' Dairoku smirked.
Then, his voice boomed across the chamber.
"Jujutsu High has overstepped!" His glare fell on Yaga. "You dare send the heir of the Kamo clan to battle against a special grade? Without proper training at that?"
Yaga stammered, struggling to keep his composure.
"They were all initially classified as grade four curses. Only the Six Eyes could have discerned that their energy signatures were identical…"
"Hah! Excuses!" Dairoku snapped, cutting him off.
Some of the other elders nodded in agreement.
"I demand that Reiji Kamo be exempt from combat missions without his consent," Dairoku thundered. "Let the boy decide!"
"Preposterous!" one elder bit back, though his voice lacked conviction.
"He may be your heir, but this is excessive… even for the Kamo clan!"
"Special treatment will only stunt his growth!"
"This is an affront to Jujutsu High's balance!"
The voices swelled with indignation.
Dairoku only laughed inwardly, his expression sliding into cool amusement. 'What do you old fools even know about him?'
"You misunderstand," he said sharply, tone now cutting. "I am not hindering his growth. His mastery of Reverse Cursed Technique is already evident to all. What I said is simple; his combat assignments should be restricted. Missions requiring healing; however, he is free to undertake."
Tension rippled across the chamber. Fists clenched. The elders knew what this meant. With the Gojo clan preparing to dominate the era through their limitless-Six Eyes user, the Kamo clan now had a slight counterbalance of their own.
Dairoku pressed harder.
"Let me put it plainly. If the heir is sent into dangerous missions without his consent, the Kamo clan will withdraw its support from Jujutsu High."
Yaga's blood ran cold. The weight of those words sank into him. 'Why are they willing to go so far to protect that boy…?'
The chamber filled with nervous murmurs. Yaga stood frozen for a while until, finally; consensus was reached.
"The council decrees: Reiji Kamo shall be assigned exclusively to missions with Shoko Ieiri where Reverse Cursed Technique is required, serving as a support sorcerer until the end of his first year. Afterward, combat missions will resume as normal." There were murmurs of agreement.
Dairoku clicked his tongue, clearly irritated.
"…Tch. Fine. It is decided then."
As he closed his eyes, his expression softened for the briefest moment.
'This is all I can do for you, brat. How you make use of it… is up to you.'
*****************************************************************************
Reiji lay on his bed; he had been advised to rest. His dorm room at Jujutsu High, though small, felt surprisingly homely. It was clean, almost sparse… just a shelf, a bed, a table, and a chair.
He stared at the pristine walls.
'Should I get some posters? I'll be here for a while anyway…'
Wearing nothing but a pair of trousers, his gaze drifted toward the ceiling. As he stared blankly, memories of the previous day clawed their way back. His mood soured, and he draped an arm over his eyes. The other arm rested against his abdomen, hiding the lean, chiseled muscles that Dairoku's brutal training had beaten into him.
'Purging Rain…' Even the thought of it unsettled him. It was a feat he could hardly conceive of, yet somehow, in the frenzy of battle, he had pulled it off.
'None of it makes sense…'
His fingers traced the side of his neck—an unconscious reminder of the time he had driven a knife into it. His expression hardened. 'The searing pain during the fight because of Akame… Even the way my RCT awakened, what the hell was all that?'
He sighed, turning to his side. 'I need to get to the bottom of this.'
Closing his eyes, he tried to recall that winter day. His mother's image formed before him… standing in the snow, her kimono bright against the pale background, her smile gentle. She looked at him as though she was waiting for him to say something.
'But what was it?'
He pressed his eyes shut harder, straining to remember. The image refused to move forward, still lingering. Then suddenly, it shattered… replaced by the blurred, horrifying vision of her dismembered corpse.
Reiji bolted upright, gasping. Sweat trickled down his temple. He almost never perspired, but now he was drenched.
"Damn it!" he hissed, frustration spilling over as tears streaked his cheeks.
Time passed in silence. He sat motionless until his tears dried, and before he knew it, afternoon sunlight streamed into the room.
A knock on the door startled him.
"Reiji? You in there?" it was Shoko.
'Shoko? She's here?' He jumped from the bed, slightly dizzy, tugged on a shirt, and hurried to the door.
'Wait… is she even allowed in the boys' dorm?'
He opened it nervously. Shoko stood there with her hands shoved into her pockets, there was no cigarette between her lips this time, her eyes tired but alert.
"Uh… good morning, Shoko."
She tilted her head. "It's afternoon, actually."
Reiji scratched the back of his head, embarrassed, avoiding her gaze. But he towered over her, and it was difficult to hide his eyes since she was standing right in front of him.
"Aren't you going to invite me in?" she asked lazily.
"Huh? Oh, right… of course. Please, come in."
'This is wrong on so many levels' he groaned inwardly as she stepped inside and shut the door behind her.
He offered her the chair, while he sat on the bed. Propping his elbows on his knees, Reiji braced himself; he was certain that she wanted to talk about his condition.
Shoko studied him quietly before speaking. "How are you feeling, Reiji?" Her voice carried a note of concern.
His head shot up, caught completely off guard. Bewilderment flickered across his face.
Shoko frowned. "What's with that look? Just what kind of person do you think I am?"
"Oh, no.., it's not like that," Reiji stammered. "I'm just… not used to it." His voice trailed. "…But yes, I'm feeling much better."
She gave a small nod.
The sunlight painted the room in soft gold as Reiji turned his gaze toward the window. But movement caught his attention… Shoko had stood up. As she approached him, he instinctively leaned back. Soon she stood before him, her expression unreadable.
Her hand lifted and, without warning, brushed his cheek.
'What?!' Heat rushed to his face, his breath hitching.
"Liar," Shoko muttered, wiping away the traces of dried tears on his face.
Reiji's heart clenched. 'I can't hide anything from this girl…'
She let her hand fall and sat beside him on the bed. For a moment, the inappropriate nature of it did not even register. Reiji was too confused, too lost in the unfamiliar situation.
"You look like crap. Spill it."
His lips parted, then closed again. He thought of his old master, of the elders who had dismissed him after every attempt to heal him failed. He wanted to say no. Yet he remembered the warmth of her energy when she had healed him… it was fundamentally different from his own, and it was definitely more potent. Maybe, just maybe, she could help.
"I… don't really know how to put it," he said finally, forcing himself to meet her eyes. "I was just born like this."
Shoko's eyebrow arched slightly.
"No matter what I do, my blood volume never rises past a certain limit," he continued. He raised a pale hand, studying it. "Theoretically, positive energy should stimulate erythropoietic cells to produce more red blood cells. My bone marrow is fine; I have had it checked. But…" His shoulders sagged. "I don't really have an answer, Shoko."
For once, her expression turned serious. She stood and walked toward the door. Reiji's eyes followed her, his heart sinking. He slumped forward with a bitter smile. 'Of course. Why should anyone bother with me?'
But then she stopped to get one last look at him.
"Reiji…" Her voice was plain, but there was something fierce hidden beneath it. "I'm not good with words, but… I'll heal you. By the time we graduate, I swear it."
Reiji's eyes widened as his gaze quickly shifted towards her. Shoko's adamant tone carried the weight of a sacred vow.
For a long moment, silence stretched between them.
Finally Shoko closed her eyes, exhaled, and turned back to the door as if to conceal something. "Oh, sensei asked us to gather in the classroom this evening. Some kind of… surprise announcement."
She opened the door halfway and stepped out briskly, leaving it ajar.
Reiji sat frozen, staring at the half-open door, an unspoken emotion tightening in his chest.