The air over Toyama Park was sharp with the metallic taste of cursed energy. Night crept across Tokyo, swallowing the park in quiet dread. Trees swayed under a cold wind, their silhouettes dancing like restless spirits.
Kurotsuki Tenkai stood beneath the flickering streetlamp at the park's edge, his long coat fluttering. With one hand raised, he began the chant.
"Curtain—descend."
A transparent film rippled across the air, sealing off the park from the normal world. The rustle of leaves stilled, and the scent of damp earth thickened. The world dimmed—Tokyo vanished, leaving only silence and the faint pulse of Cursed Energy.
Tenkai's expression was calm, his dark coat fluttering lightly as he stepped forward.
"A solo mission, huh…" Tenkai muttered with a faint smirk. "Guess it's finally time."
But the moment he stepped inside, the faint scent of decay brushed past his senses. The air thickened. His senses flared — dense, cursed energy clung to every particle. Then came the sound — disembodied screams, echoing like glass scraping against steel from nowhere and everywhere at once.
The air twisted.
He walked forward calmly, his eyes narrowing as the screams grew louder. Suddenly, the world blinked to black.
A domain had expanded.
The darkness twisted into a space of warped geometry — endless corridors lined with mirrors, each reflecting his face in different grotesque angles. The air vibrated, thick with resonance. Then, a shape emerged from the void.
An impossibly thin, pale female figure drifted forward. Her hollow eyes shimmered like black holes. When she screamed, the very fabric of space rippled — a sound so sharp it shattered glass, ripping grooves in the mirrored walls.
"Domain Expansion," Tenkai murmured softly, tilting his head. "A fully matured one. Interesting."
The curse's voice was a sonic weapon. The air itself became a blade of noise. But Tenkai didn't flinch. The wave of sound split the air — only to vanish inches from him, as though erased from existence.
The curse screeched again, louder, stronger — until the mirrors cracked from the resonance.
Tenkai raised his hand slightly, his eyes glowing with pale blue light.
"Absolute Defense — Theorem Barrier (Riron Kekkai)."
The space around him shimmered like refracted glass. Equations unfolded across his body in faint, luminous script — mathematical sigils spinning in orbit.
"If attack = f(x), then reflection = -f(x).""Energy input equals output in inverse proportion. Result: zero net effect."
Every attack that entered his radius was reversed — its vector, polarity, and cursed composition flipped. The waves of sound coiled back upon their origin, crashing into the curse itself.
The domain trembled.
Tenkai sighed, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve. "You scream beautifully, though. Almost therapeutic."
The curse shrieked in fury, her body twisting grotesquely as she unleashed a storm of sonic blades. Each scream came layered with a million fractal frequencies, tearing the mirrored space into shards of light and shadow.
The curse screamed again, shattering the ground inside its domain. The reflected sound blew a crater beside her own feet.
Tenkai smiled gently, almost amused. "You're hurting yourself now. Maybe lower the volume?"
She shrieked louder, her high-pitched voice bending metal, breaking spectral structures. Still, Tenkai didn't move. His shoes didn't even sink into the cracked domain floor.
But inside the eye of the storm, Tenkai stood untouched — calm, almost bored.
"Apologies," he said, raising a finger mockingly. "I don't have a domain expansion yet. If I did, I'd have loved to play a tug of war with you."
The curse screeched again, maddened by mockery.
"Alright then," Tenkai said, his tone turning razor-sharp. "Let's end this symphony."
He brought his hands together, forming a seal.
"Heaven's Erasure (Tengen Metsu)."
Light flared in his eyes, galaxies spinning within. Time itself seemed to slow. A web of mathematical formulae unfolded beneath the curse — fractal rings of light calculating her every variable.
"Existence variable E = 1."
"Resetting E → 0."
Reality shivered.
In the next instant, the curse's body disintegrated soundlessly — her scream cut short as though deleted from the world's code. The domain shattered like glass, collapsing inward into nothingness.
The air cleared. The park returned.
Tenkai stood alone beneath the cold moonlight, brushing back his hair. He clapped his hands softly. "Curse exorcised."
The curtain dissipated. Beyond it, the city hummed normally again, the distant traffic echoing faintly. Tenkai walked toward the edge of the park where a Rolls-Royce Phantom Series II gleamed under the streetlights.
Gojo Satoru leaned against it, munching chips.
"Finally!" Gojo said, raising his brows. "I was about to call Ijichi and tell him you got eaten."
Tenkai smirked. "You'd still ask me to build you a new car before saving me."
Gojo gasped dramatically. "Hey! That's—accurate."
Moments later, Kiyoka Ijichi rolled down the window, looking tired as always."Congratulations, Kurotsuki-san. The higher-ups have… reluctantly acknowledged your promotion to special grade sorcerer."
Gojo burst out laughing. "Told you! They couldn't stall forever."
Tenkai shrugged. "They'll probably try again next time."
"They already did," Gojo replied. "Said something like: 'He's too global. We can't control him!" He mocked in a nasally voice. "They act like you're some anime villain."
Tenkai raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I am."
"Please don't," Ijichi groaned. "We barely survived Gojo's last prank."
.....
They drove toward Shinjuku City, where Tenkai's premium residence gleamed like a futuristic temple. Gojo stepped out, whistling. "Wow. Kid, your house looks like Stark Tower but with better lighting."
Tenkai's mother, Akane, opened the door, her warm smile brightening the foyer."Welcome, Satoru-kun! I've heard so much about you."
"Oh? Hopefully all lies," Gojo said, bowing dramatically.
Dinner flowed with laughter and warmth. For once, Tenkai's calm composure softened; his parents' smiles reminded him of what he'd been fighting for all along — a life not defined by equations and energy, but by people.
After dinner, Tenkai excused himself to the bathroom. His parents exchanged glances, then turned to Gojo.
"Thank you," Masaru said quietly. "He's always been alone. People admire him, but no one… talks to him. You changed that."
Gojo blinked, uncharacteristically quiet. Then he chuckled softly. "He reminds me of myself, you know. Smart, handsome, unstoppable… lonely."
Gojo smiled softly, tilting his head. "Well, he's not easy to ignore. Plus, I like his sarcasm. It's almost as good as mine."
Laughter broke the heaviness. Tenkai returned from washing up, raising an eyebrow at the two of them.
Tenkai returned just in time to hear Gojo laugh. "You gossiping again?"
"Always," Gojo said, standing. "Now show me that top-secret lab of yours."
Tenkai led him upstairs to a sleek room filled with papers, glowing monitors, and walls lined with handwritten formulas. Gojo whistled. "You've got enough math here to scare Einstein back into the womb."
On the TV, a news channel blared:
"Breaking News: Kurotsuki Industries announces partnership with the Japanese government for next-gen fighter jets and energy research. CEO Kurotsuki Tenkai, age 18, is now officially Japan's youngest billionaire."
Gojo's eyes widened. "Tenkai Industries, billion-dollar deadlift champion of Japan! Oh, look at you, national treasure!"
Tenkai facepalmed. "You make it sound like I'm in a wrestling match."
"Same energy!" Gojo grinned. "So, young billionaire sorcerer, when's my turn to get one of those fighter jets?"
"When you stop breaking them," Tenkai shot back.
Gojo laughed loudly, spinning in the chair. "This is why teaching you is exhausting. You're too perfect—it's annoying."
Tenkai smirked faintly. "Then maybe you're learning something too."
For a moment, both of them were silent — two geniuses from different worlds, connected by fate and friendship.