Yuji realized almost immediately that the flow of time here was reactive. It wasn't a fixed track. The more I interfere, the faster the countdown accelerates. The more I stand back, the slower it ticks. It was a sharp, intuitive certainty.
"Huh," Yuji whispered, exhaling a cloud of breath. "I'll explore the mechanics of that later."
He didn't dwell on it. There were more pressing questions. Was this a dream? A parallel reality? Or had he truly breached the walls of time? Having spent his loneliest decades consuming every movie, novel, and anime imaginable, his mind was a library of tropes and theories.
In a world where cursed techniques could rewrite the laws of physics, time travel wasn't an impossibility—it was just another technique he hadn't mastered yet.
"It feels too real," he muttered, scanning the hallway. "No traces of a Domain, no cursed energy residue. This isn't an illusion."
If this was real, then the regrets buried under seventy years of scar tissue—the dead friends, the fallen mentors, and his grandfather—were all within reach. They were still alive.
Lost in thought, he followed Nurse Sugisawa. She didn't notice the hooded shadow trailing her until she stopped at a familiar door and knocked.
"Mr. Wasuke Itadori, you have a call. Yuji is asking if you need him to bring anything back."
"Tell him to leave me alone!" a raspy, impatient roar erupted from the room. "Tell that brat to stop worrying about me and go to his club activities!"
The old man was shouting into a pager connected to a phone line. On the other end, Yuji heard it—the voice of his younger self. It was higher, lighter, and laced with a frantic, youthful anxiety.
"Did you hear that?" Sugisawa asked the phone. "Go to your event."
"Okay... I'll be there tomorrow evening," the young Yuji replied, his tone sinking. He already knew the end was near.
"Go on, get out of here! Stop bothering me!" Wasuke yelled, his voice surprisingly vigorous.
As Sugisawa turned to leave, she felt a heavy hand rest on her shoulder. She jumped, finding a stranger in a dark hood standing over her.
"Let me," the man said.
His voice was calm, carrying a resonance that hadn't existed in his throat for nearly seventy years. Sugisawa froze, caught by the sheer gravity of his presence. Before she could protest, Yuji stepped past her into the ward.
The Last Conversation, Again
Wasuke was mid-rant. "Are you deaf? I said—"
His voice died down as the hooded figure approached the bed. The old man's eyes narrowed. He was stubborn and grumpy, usually driving everyone away except his grandson, but he went quiet as the stranger sat in the companion chair.
"It's okay, Miss Sugisawa," the man said, glancing back with a reliable, faint smile. "You can head out."
Dazed, the nurse nodded and retreated, closing the door behind her.
Wasuke stared at the stranger. He couldn't see the face clearly, but the voice... it was familiar. It sounded like Yuji, but weathered by a century of storms. It sounded like his son, Jin, but with a terrifying edge of confidence.
"Who are you?" Wasuke grunted. "An illegitimate son of Jin's?"
"Really... even at this age, your temper is still so hot," Yuji said softly. He rested his hands on his knees. "It's good to see you again. It was my fault back then. I didn't listen. I didn't stay with you on that last day."
"What are you rambling about?" Wasuke's brow furrowed. "Don't go blaming yourself for things that haven't happened, big man."
"Hmm. 'Strong like a tiger, supportive like a staff,' right?" Yuji quoted. "I'm also an Itadori."
The moment the words left his mouth, the countdown in his vision skipped forward several seconds.
"I'll find a way to fix this," Yuji murmured, pressing a hand toward his grandfather's chest.
[Reverse Cursed Technique]
He flooded the old man's body with positive energy. He had mastered this long ago—healing others was a feat even Gojo had struggled with, but for the Yuji of 2086, it was second nature. Yet, as the energy washed over Wasuke, Yuji felt the truth.
RCT could knit flesh and purge poison, but it could not cure time. It could not reverse the natural conclusion of a life well-lived.
Still not enough, Yuji thought. If I could find Mahito... if I could use 'Idle Transfiguration' to reshape the soul's blueprint, maybe I could prolong his life.
Wasuke reached out and gripped Yuji's hand. His grip was weak, but his gaze was iron.
"Are you trying to 'cure' me? Stop it. Don't toss me around like some project. It's a torture, being kept alive when the body is done. At my age, I know fewer and fewer people every day. A man should just die handsomely, with a bit of calm."
Yuji went silent. The dusk light filtered through the hospital window, casting long shadows. He stayed the whole night, talking to the old man about things that didn't matter and things that mattered most.
"Do you believe in turning back time?" Yuji asked at one point.
"What? That's fairy tale nonsense!" Wasuke barked.
They talked as equals—two old men sharing a quiet room. It was a grace Yuji had never expected to receive. When the morning light broke at 10:00 AM, Yuji stood up to leave.
"Alright, go on," Wasuke said. "I don't know who you are, but you've done enough."
"I'll come back this evening," Yuji said.
"No need! I don't want people blubbering over me twice."
Yuji paused at the door. "I grew up strong. Just like you said. I used that strength to save others. I fulfilled the promise... or the curse. I helped a lot of people. And within my power, I will save everything I can now."
He looked back, pulling his hood down for just a moment to reveal his face—the scars, the aged eyes, and a sincere, heartbreaking smile.
"But I'm sorry to disappoint you, Grandpa. I haven't died surrounded by everyone yet. I haven't found my 'handsome' death. But I know the truth about my parents now. And don't worry—there is a man in this world who will see you off today. You'll die very handsomely."
He pulled the hood back up and stepped into the hallway. Behind him, he heard his grandfather's voice, softer now, drifting through the closing door.
"Hey... if you really helped that many people, you should take a break and help yourself once in a while. And listen... you'll always be a stinky brat in my eyes."
Wasuke stared at the ceiling after the door clicked shut. That kid... trying to act all cool in front of me. But he really did grow up, didn't he?