The warm yellow light of the Sushi restaurant fell on Kenjaku's face, making the stitches on his forehead appear even more sinister.
He watched Rin eat, picking up the freshly served Matcha. His fingertips tightened involuntarily, the warmth of the cup unable to dispel the slight solemnity in his heart.
He had imagined this meeting countless times.
After his humiliating escape from the Osaka battlefield, and during the days when Hanami was recovering and Jogo's injuries were gradually healing, he had constantly replayed scenarios of meeting Rin.
He had imagined Rin would be furious. After all, he had once occupied Geto Suguru's body, and Geto Suguru was Rin's nominal teacher, the man who was so gentle he was willing to sacrifice everything for Non-Sorcerers.
So for this meeting, he specifically abandoned Geto Suguru's body, found the body of an unknown Jujutsu Sorcerer who had just died, and even carefully concealed the Cursed Energy fluctuations within him. He was afraid that Rin would explode the moment he saw that face, not even giving him a chance to talk.
He had also prepared countless arguments.
From Sukuna's secret to the dark underbelly of the Jujutsu World; from the temptation of mutual cooperation to the threat of a complete fallout.
Even how to stir up Rin's dissatisfaction with Gojo Satoru and how to hint at Jujutsu High's "utilization" of him had been rehearsed thousands of times in his mind.
Over a thousand years, he had seen too many powerful individuals like Rin.
Kashimo's arrogance stemmed from absolute confidence in his strength; he could be satisfied by simply providing him with enough opponents.
Sukuna's madness stemmed from his unmatched power; he could temporarily reach a consensus by providing enough "entertainment" to satisfy his destructive urges.
No matter how difficult those strong individuals were to approach, they always had a weakness in their hearts, always something they desired.
Power, pleasure, revenge, or the ambition to overthrow the existing order.
And what Kenjaku was best at was precisely capturing these desires, then offering the bait at just the right moment, making them willingly become pieces on his chessboard.
But facing Rin, for the first time, he felt uncertain.
This young man was too strange.
He possessed the strength to crush Special Grade Cursed Spirits, yet he was content to stay at Jujutsu High, neither vying for power nor being arrogant and overbearing.
Within him lay Sukuna's domain, Malevolent Shrine, yet he showed no interest in sukunas fingers, and even displayed unusual calmness when Sukuna awakened.
He could easily kill him and Jogo, yet he deliberately spared their lives, neither out of pity nor mockery, but more like he was executing some unknown plan.
Kenjaku couldn't fathom what he wanted.
Did he want stronger power?
But his current strength was already comparable to Gojo Satoru's, perhaps even surpassing it.
Did he want to overthrow the Jujutsu World? But he had never shown dissatisfaction with Jujutsu High; instead, he had repeatedly taken action to resolve Special Grade Cursed Spirits, as if he were protecting something.
Did he want to compete with Sukuna? But the remnant of Sukuna within him seemed to have reached some kind of balance with him, showing no signs of conflict.
What he truly wanted, Kenjaku couldn't tell.
"He's truly a mysterious fellow."
Kenjaku took a small sip of Matcha, his eyes deep.
He put down the teacup, looked at Rin, and a complex smile played on his lips—a mix of apprehension, curiosity, and a hint of imperceptible excitement.
In a thousand years, this was the first time he had encountered someone so difficult to control. This uncertainty gave him a long-lost thrill.
"However, the more unfathomable he is, the more valuable he becomes."
Kenjaku thought silently, the stitches on his forehead subtly wriggling:
Rin, what exactly are you planning? The remnant of Sukuna within you, your deliberate act of letting us go, your encounter with Itadori Yuji... what is the connection between all of this?
..."I want you to kill me."
Rin's voice was as calm as if he were discussing the weather. He had just put down his chopsticks, and the vinegary scent of sushi still lingered on his fingertips.
The smile on Kenjaku's face instantly froze. The hand holding the Matcha stopped in mid-air, and the stitches on his forehead seemed to tighten a bit.
He looked at the young man opposite him in disbelief, trying to find a trace of a joke on that indifferent face.
But Rin's eyes were too calm, without a ripple, as if he hadn't just said "I want to die" but "another bowl of rice, please."
In a thousand years, he had heard countless insane requests, seen people sacrifice their souls for power, and others destroy themselves for revenge, but he had never heard a powerful individual with overwhelming strength actively ask someone else to kill them.
He opened his mouth, and all the countless arguments and schemes he had prepared suddenly became pale and powerless, even somewhat ridiculous.
It was as if he had meticulously staged a grand play, only for the protagonist to overturn the entire stage with a single sentence.
But Kenjaku was, after all, an old monster who had lived for a thousand years. After a brief moment of shock, the tension in his fingertips slowly relaxed. He put down his teacup, leaned forward slightly, his eyes filled with scrutiny and a hint of imperceptible excitement, and asked:
"Why? I'm sorry, I just don't understand. What are you thinking? Are you truly seeking death?"
Rin looked at the stitches on his forehead, a hint of relief flashing through his heart. Fortunately, Kenjaku hadn't come with Geto Suguru's face.
That gentle and compassionate face always reminded him of past events he didn't want to touch, and the unfamiliar face before him allowed him to state his purpose more calmly.
He shook his head, his tone still flat, but with an undeniable seriousness:
"Of course not. I'm not a masochist, nor have I lost hope in life. What I want is battle, a true death match that can make me stronger."
"Death match?"
Kenjaku instinctively leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, observing Rin with interest:
"But that doesn't make sense. Although we haven't had much contact, I can feel that you don't have an obsession with power; in fact... you don't even like to fight.
The scent of blood on you is strong, but there's no fanaticism for battle, rather a sense of weariness."
This was precisely what puzzled him most. Rin's strength was enough to dominate the Jujutsu World, yet he remained low-key, and despite being able to easily kill enemies, he had held back multiple times.
His fighting was more like a "necessary task" than a "pursuit of pleasure."
How could such a person actively seek a death match?
Upon hearing this, Rin's lips curved into a faint smile, and a hint of approval flashed in his eyes.
Kenjaku had indeed not disappointed him; a thousand years of experience allowed him to accurately grasp his essence.
"You're right."
He picked up the warm teacup, took a sip of Matcha. The refreshing aroma diluted the aftertaste in his mouth, and his tone became a bit more relieved:
"If I had to say, I probably just want to survive, truly survive."
Kenjaku's eyes suddenly sharpened, a golden glint flashing in their shadowed depths.
He seemed to have caught the key, yet he wasn't sure.
"With your strength,"
Kenjaku slowly began, his voice lowered a few notches:
"Almost no one in this world can kill you now.
Even Gojo Satoru couldn't stop you if you wanted to escape. You don't need to prove anything through a 'death match,' and you certainly don't need to find me. Why me, of all people?"
"You might be right."
Rin put down the teacup, his fingertips gently tapping the table in a slow, rhythmic pattern:
"But this isn't the life I want. What I want is a carefree life, undisturbed by anyone, threatened by no one, with no potential crises. That is my pursuit."
His gaze suddenly turned icy, like a sharp blade in winter, piercing directly into Kenjaku:
"Moreover, it's not that no one can kill me. Right before my eyes, there is someone who can pose a fatal threat to me."
The moment his words fell, an invisible pressure swept through the entire corner.
Kenjaku's hairs instantly stood on end, and he instinctively channeled his Cursed Energy for defense.
He suddenly felt the presence of death, not from Rin's direct attack, but from the undeniable certainty in his words.
But he quickly composed himself, a calm smile returning to his face, even with a hint of self-mockery:
"Me?"
He spread his hands, his tone relaxed:
"I don't seem to have such ability. After all, you could easily get rid of me right now, so why go through all this trouble and ask me to kill you?"
The doubt in his heart grew even stronger.
If Rin truly believed he could threaten him, why didn't he act directly? Instead, he made such an absurd request? There must be a deeper calculation behind this.