Greetings fellow readers, MasterW here
Now, I'm sorry for the wait, I will see if I can make more chapters but my schedule tends to get busy with obligations that appear all of the also
Also, slight R-18 here, so be warned.
Without any further to do, enjoy!
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High above the chaotic park, on the observation deck of the Sky Tower attraction, two white-haired figures stood overlooking the battles all around the park.
Gojo Satoru leaned casually against the safety railing, his gaze behind his glasses somehow still managing to convey an expression of amusement "Man, your students are hardcore" He commented, a grin in his voice. "At least the ones we could see were. I don't know what exactly went down in that veil, but seeing as that fancy dress-wearing lady and her scarred buddy ran off looking like they'd just moved through a British alley, and your kids are walking away with just bruises and burns... we can safely say they totalled them."
"Hmm," Akira acknowledged with a slight nod, his crimson eyes scanning the park below, tracking his students as they walked away from their fights
"Excuse me," a soft, melodic voice interrupted his assessment. "Can I get some more?"
Both men turned. Perched precariously on the railing beside them was a girl with long, flowing blonde hair, dressed in an intricate black gothic lolita outfit. She waved an empty, greasy paper bag that had once held Taiyaki
Akira stared at her. "I just bought you a family-sized portion"
The girl met his gaze, her own large, dark-red eyes utterly sincere and devoid of guilt. "...They are good."
A beat of silence passed between the three of them
"...Very well then," Akira finally conceded with a sigh "We will buy more. And," he added, thinking of his exhausted, victorious students now regrouping below "We will buy a couple more portions of pork-buns for my students as well."
A small, satisfied smile touched the blonde girl's lips. "Hm. Thanks."
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The enclosed space of the Ferris Wheel cabin was heavy. The air was so thick with tension you could slice it with a knife
Saeko sat primly on one bench, facing Mai, who glared from the opposite seat. It was a silent standoff.
In a deliberate, almost regal gesture, Saeko crossed her hands beneath her chest and subtly lifted, accentuating the already formidable curves that strained against her top. It was a silent declaration of her most obvious weapon.
Mai's eyes narrowed. She refused to back down from the unspoken challenge. She sat up straighter, pushing her own chest forward. Thanks to Akira's comprehensive physical training, she had developed significantly beyond her normal size
But it was a battle she was destined to lose.
Saeko's proportions were in a different league entirely, a fact made painfully clear in to the two of them. It was like comparing to different genres all together
Seeing her visual victory, a small, triumphant smile played on Saeko's lips.
Mai clicked her tongue in disgust. "Tch."
Saeko decided to break the heavy silence. "So," she began, her voice deceptively calm. "What did you wanted to talk about?"
"You know why!" Mai snapped, her composure cracking. "The same reason you were wearing that… that slutty underwear!"
"And so were you," Saeko retorted coolly
The accusation hung between them. They stared to each other, eyed each other's figure. The truth of their mutual intentions laid bare.
"I like Sensei" Mai confessed abruptly, her voice dropping, the anger giving way to a raw honesty. Her eyes softened, looking past Saeko at the memory. "I've liked him for a long time. I've been… waiting for the right moment to tell him"
"Well," Saeko said, her own gaze unwavering. "I also like him. He is… kind. Unflinchingly strong. And he saw me, the real me, and accepted it without hesitation."
"Why do you even like him anyway?!" Mai shouted, surging to her feet. The cabin swayed slightly. "I was here first! I was his first student! He helped me control my technique when it was running wild! If it weren't for him, I'd be invisible to the whole world, unable to even buy groceries, to exist!" She pointed a trembling finger at Saeko. "Why don't you go chase one of the hundreds of suitors I'm sure are after your… your fat lumps you call tits?! I'm sure any of them would die to get their hands on you, which, by the way, is the only thing you have going for you! You didn't even have a cursed technique until Sensei took pity on you and helped you!"
"Why so jealous of my body?" Saeko mused, her smile turning sharp and sadistic. A hand went to caress her protuberant breast "I think Sensei would appreciate it… when he finally decides to put his hands on it."
"Hah?!" Mai barked a humourless laugh. "You think Sensei would be interested in you? Please, get real!"
"And you?" Saeko fired back, her calm demeanour finally showing a crack of ice. "What makes you think he'd be interested in you?"
Mai faltered, unable to conjure a concrete reason beyond her own fierce feelings. She just clicked her tongue again and slumped back into her seat, crossing her arms.
A heavy, resentful silence descended once more, broken only by the distant sounds of the park and the creak of the Ferris wheel.
"I won't give up on Sensei," Mai stated, her voice low but firm, staring out the window at the shrinking ground.
"Me neither," Saeko replied, her gaze fixed on Mai.
"Then… may the best woman win."
"Very well." Saeko's smirk returned, edged with a hint of cruelty. "Just for your information… I'm already in the lead."
"Hah? What sort of delusion are you on now?"
"Sensei… proposed to me."
Mai shot to her feet again, the cabin rocking. "HAH?! What kind of fantasy land are you living in?!"
"He gifted me a katana."
"And?! What does that have to do with anything?!"
Saeko leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You might not know this, but the Busujima family has a tradition. A suitor seeking to marry into the family must gift a katana as a formal gesture of intent. I've been offered many blades by powerful men… but I only accepted the one from Sensei."
For a second, Mai's brain completely short-circuited. Her mouth opened, then closed. Then the denial crashed back in. "E-Eh?! Sensei doesn't know that tradition! So, it doesn't count! It was just a Sensei giving his student a weapon, like with Miko and me!"
"Oh, really?" Saeko leaned back, her smirk victorious. "We shall see."
Of course, Saeko conveniently omitted the key detail....
The tradition required the katana to be gifted with the explicit intention of marriage.
Akira had given her Sandai-Kitetsu as a tool for her to use, not a betrothal gift. And she had never told him about the custom.
But of course, she decided to skip that part, keeping it as a secret weapon for when Saeko decides to move forward her relationship with Sensei
The cabin plunged into another icy silence, even heavier than before.
Then, without warning, the entire gondola jolted violently, swinging on its cable with a sickening lurch.
"Eh?!"
"What was that?!"
Both girls scrambled to the window, looking down. A couple of cabins below, a couple of figures crashed into the glass of another cabin
The form of Sakamoto, locked in a fierce grapple with another large, brutish-looking man, had just crashed into the side of another Ferris wheel car, the impact reverberating through the entire structure
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Now that afternoon got close, the food court buzzed. Filled with people eating and laughing
In the table of Sakamoto's Family and Akira's students, plates of steaming pork buns sat in front of everyone, a simple, comforting reward after the day's chaos.
Most were eating with gusto, the adrenaline crash fuelling their hunger
Akira sat at a table with the blonde girl placidly devouring a package of Taiyaki beside him.
Across from them, Miko, Hana, and Yuria stared at their untouched buns, their faces pale, hands occasionally trembling.
The visceral memories of the fights, the blood, and their first experience with death, were too fresh.
Sakamoto was a few tables over, speaking in low, serious tones with his wife, finally explaining the bounty that had drawn so much violence to their family outing
Akira observed his three quiet students. He placed his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers. "You witnessed death for the first time today," he stated, his voice calm and clear, cutting through their internal turmoil. "It is a normal reaction to be shaken."
Miko looked up, her usual sharpness dulled by nausea. "We… we killed people, Sensei"
"You defended your lives, and the lives of your friends" Akira corrected, not harshly, but factually. "The value of a life is immense. Your own lives hold that same value. When someone aims to take that from you, without cause, without remorse, they have already discarded the value they placed on their own"
Yuria swallowed hard, her voice a whisper. "But… did we do the right thing? He… he stopped moving. I held him while he died..."
"Consider this" Akira said, his crimson eyes holding each of their gazes in turn. "If you had faltered, if you had held back, and they had succeeded… what would your parents feel? Your friends? The people who love you?" He let the question hang in the air. "The ones who attacked you did not spare a single thought for that. They did not care for your dreams, your fears, or the pain your loss would cause. Their goal was to kill you"
He leaned forward slightly. His tone soft "It is good that you feel guilt. That feeling means you have a conscience. It means you understand the weight of what happened. It is what separates you from those who kill without thought. But…." his tone firmed, "Do not waste that feeling on those who would not have spared a second of it for you. Do not grieve for the predator who sought to make you prey. Acknowledge the act, learn from its gravity, but do not let it paralyze you. Your survival, and the survival of those you protect, is the only correct outcome"
A long silence followed, filled only by the distant park music and Yami's quiet munching.
Then, a loud, embarrassingly familiar grumble echoed from Hana's stomach. She blushed, staring at the pork bun on her plate. Shakily, she reached out, picked it up, and took a small, tentative bite. As she chewed, a single tear traced a path down her cheek, followed by another. She ate and cried quietly, the simple act of eating and filling her stomach made her mental tension fade
Seeing her, Miko took a deep breath, grabbed her own bun, and bit into it with determination, her eyes glistening.
Yuria followed suit, wiping her eyes with her sleeve before eating.
Akira gave a single, slow nod of approval.
At a nearby table, Mai, Saeko, Lala, Shigeo, and Zaimozuka watched the scene with soft, understanding smiles.
Mai doesn't really care for any life except her friends and Sensei, while Saeko is impassive towards mortality.
Shigeo and Zaimozuka hope that when they do the deed, they will know what is necessary
Then, Mai's eyes drifted to the unfamiliar blonde girl happily eating beside their sensei. "By the way, Sensei," she said, pointing with her chin. "Who's that?"
"Yeah, I was wondering the same," Shigeo added, with Lala nodding curiously beside him
The girl swallowed her last bite of taiyaki and looked up. "I'm Yami," she stated softly. "I was sent here to kill Kageyama Shigeo."
A deafening silence fell over their entire section of the food court.
"....EH?!" came the collective, strangled shout.
Mai was the first to recover, pointing dramatically. "Then why is she sitting here eating with us?!"
"Weeeell," Gojo Satoru drawled, leaning back with a grin, ready to tell the tale
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(Some Time Before the Fights)
Akira and Gojo had been walking around the park when they spotted the blonde girl in the gothic lolita dress.
She was standing perfectly still, watching a group of girls share taiyaki with intense, focused eyes.
"Huh, that girl..." Gojo murmured, his Six Eyes already analysing the girl
"Hm," Akira acknowledged. He walked to the stand, purchased a large bag of fresh taiyaki, and approached her. He held out the bag without a word.
Yami looked at it, then at his impassive face, her head tilting in confusion. He gave the bag a slight shake. She reached out and took it, carefully extracting one pastry. She took a bite, her eyes widening slightly. "Delicious." She then proceeded to devour the entire bag in seconds. She stared at the empty bag, then looked up at Akira. "More. Please."
"Hmm." Akira bought another bag and handed it over. Gojo arrived, licking a massive ice cream cone.
"Done collecting strays?" Gojo asked.
Ignoring him, Akira watched Yami eat for a moment before speaking. "What is an alien assassin doing on Earth?"
Yami froze mid-bite. In a blur of motion, she was five feet back, her right hand transforming into a sleek blade
"Huh, neat," Gojo commented around a mouthful of ice cream.
"Satoru."
"Already on it." With a subtle pulse of cursed energy, Gojo erected a low-level, sound-dampening curtain around them, isolating the scene from the park.
"You are here for Lala and Shigeo," Akira stated, beginning to walk calmly towards her.
Yami flinched, her mission was discovered. Feeling cornered, she lunged, her blade an arc aiming for his neck. Akira moved his head a bare inch to the side, letting the blade whisper past. He continued walking
"You will find that your mission holds no worth," he said, evading a vertical slash with a slight shift of his torso. "Lala is happy with Shigeo. He poses no threat to any throne."
He didn't attack. He simply flowed around her assaults, every dodge a used minimal movement.
Slash, sidestep. Thrust, lean back.
Yami accelerated, her attacks becoming a blinding whirlwind of golden light, but Akira was always a millimetre out of reach, his expression unchanging. After three minutes of futile attacks, Yami stumbled back, panting heavily, her blade-arm trembling.
Just then, a small, disc-shaped flying saucer shimmered into view above them. A hatch opened, and a small man with greenish skin and pointed ears popped out.
"Golden Darkness! What are you doing?!" he squeaked.
"Lacospo," Yami breathed, confused.
"You are supposed to eliminate Kageyama Shigeo! I cannot allow some Earth boy to usurp the Deviluke throne!"
Akira stepped forward, placing himself between Yami and the saucer. "I must interrupt. My student has no interest in any throne. He seeks only a peaceful life"
"Hah?" Yami looked from Akira to Lacospo. Akira was kind to her, giving her food even though he knew she was an assassin. Maybe he was telling the true.
If so, then she was lied about her mission
"Is he telling the truth?" she demanded
Lacospo sputtered. "Umm, this... I mean... Gama-tan! Come on out!"
The saucer's hatch widened, and a gigantic, house-sized frog creature launched itself at Akira with a croaking roar
Lacospo climbed into the frog's back "Attack them! Gama-tan!"
Akira didn't flinch. He simply cocked back his fist, reinforced it with a dense shell of cursed energy, and punched.
BOOM
The shockwave flattened the ground in a circle. The giant frog, named Gama, was launched backward like a ballistic missile, crashing back into the saucer with a sickening crunch and a pained "Nyaah!" coming from Lacospo
"Satoru," Akira said.
"On it!" Gojo flicked a finger. A compact sphere of "Red" shot from his fingertip, striking the saucer's core. It exploded upon contact, the vessel and its occupants dissolving into nothingness in a silent flash of light.
Yami stared, first at the empty space where her (former) employer and transport had been, then at the two terrifyingly powerful white-haired men. She looked at Akira, her blade-arm reverting to a normal hand
"You," she stated, pointing at Akira. "Take responsibility."
"Eh?" Gojo snickered.
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(Present)
"EH?!" the students echoed again, staring at Yami, who was now peacefully reaching for another taiyaki.
"He killed my contractor. He needs to take responsibility," she repeated, as if it were the most logical thing in the world.
Mai pinched the bridge of her nose. "Sensei... what are you going to do with her?"
'Another girl around Sensei?! fucking really?!' She inwardly cursed
"She appears to have no lodging or means of returning home," Akira mused. "She could stay with one of you, if you are willing."
"So, we're collecting aliens now?" Mai sighed. "Are you trying to catch them all like Pokemon or something?"
"I have no problem with her staying with me," Saeko offered, a glint of interest in her eyes. "I would be fascinated to study how an alien assassin fight"
"Hm." Akira nodded. "Thank you, Saeko"
He then stood up, drawing the attention of the entire group. "Today was a... fulfilling day. I am relieved to see each of you has made progress." He gave a final, approving nod. "I will be taking my leave now. Please be safe on your way home."
He walked to Sakamoto's table, where the family was gathering their things. "I will be seeing you, Sakamoto-san"
Sakamoto gave a firm, grateful nod.
"Hey, wait for me, Akira!" Gojo called, scrambling up from his seat with a laugh and following his friend out of the food court
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In a quiet tatami room on the outskirts of the city, two young girls sat seiza-style with heavy bricks balanced on their thighs. Tears streamed down Nanako's cheeks while her twin sister Mimiko sniffled beside her, both with arms raised high in punishment.
"We're sowwy…" Nanako whimpered.
"We didn't think there would be more sorcerers around…"
The rest of the small group watched in silence. Manami stood with her arms crossed, expression cold. Suda sat nearby, legs folded neatly.
At the head of the room, Geto Suguru smiled serenely, stirring a cup of tea with careful fingers.
"Now, now, Suda-chan," he said gently. "No need to be so harsh. Besides… we actually gained valuable information today."
He set the cup down. "It seems there are quite a few more sorcerers active in this city than we expected. Curious, isn't it?"
"Indeed," Suda sighed, sliding a photograph across the tatami. "We didn't get much on the others, but we did learn a new name that's been making waves in the jujutsu circles lately."
Geto picked up the photo. It showed Yoshioka Akira mid-battle with Gojo Satoru—crimson eyes glowing, white hair whipping in the wind
A flicker of genuine relief crossed Geto's face.
When he had first encountered Yoshioka and sensed no cursed energy at all, he had written the man off as just another exceptionally dangerous "monkey."
But this… this changed things.
Now his defeat is completely justified, after all, it is okay to lose to someone that managed to beat Gojo Satoru
"Defeating Gojo Satoru…" Geto murmured, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across his lips. "How fascinating. Tell me everything"
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Nanami Kento sat at his favourite corner table, savouring the rich aroma of a perfectly brewed dark roast and a warm butter croissant.
The late-afternoon light filtered softly through the window. For the first time in weeks, Gojo had stopped dragging him into every ridiculous antic of his. Peace, at last.
He took a slow sip. The warmth spread through his chest.
'Nothing could ruin this moment'
"Yo! Nanami! Got time?"
A familiar, obnoxiously cheerful voice shattered the tranquillity. Gojo Satoru dropped into the seat across from him without invitation, already waving down a waitress to take his order
Nanami's eye twitched behind his sunglasses.
"…I spoke too soon"
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Akira finally shook off Gojo's endless chatter and walked the quiet lane to his modest apartment.
The city lights flickered on, casting long shadows.
For the first time all day, he had a few moments alone.
As he neared the building, the door to the neighboring unit slid open. Tatsu, the infamous "Immortal Dragon" turned full-time househusband, stepped out with his wife Miku at his side. Trailing behind them were three young...… "girls"
A brunette, a black-haired one, and a blonde, all bowing deeply.
"Thank you, Aniki, for teaching us!" the brunette said brightly.
"Sure thing. Come back anytime you need the ropes straightened out," Tatsu replied with a rare, genuine smile, arms crossed
"Come back soon!" Miku added cheerfully, waving
The trio passed Akira in the hallway. He glanced at them, and a cold shudder ran down his spine.
Something about their synchronized steps, their too-perfect smiles… it dragged up memories he'd buried a long.... long time
He shook his head sharply and kept walking.
"Yo! Yoshioka-kun!" Miku called, spotting him. "It's been a while!"
"I apologize, Kuroda-san. I have been… occupied."
"Oi!" Tatsu grunted. "Gotta thank ya properly. That gig you hooked me up with at the school festival? Made a fat stack of green"
(Translation: Thanks for letting me park the food truck at the school festival. We've got a lot of clients)
"It is not a problem, Kuroda-san," Akira replied with a small nod.
"By the way," Miku continued, tilting her head, "I didn't know you had such a pair of cute cousins staying over. They seem like nice girls"
Akira paused, suspicion flickering. But arguing would only invite questions.
"…Thank you," he said neutrally. "I shall be retiring now."
He slipped past them and approached his own door. It was unlocked.
Two presences inside. He recognized both
He sighed, pushed the door open, and stepped in.
The apartment was dimly lit. Momobami Kirari lounged against his kitchen counter, her low-cut yukata slipping scandalously open at the front, far too revealing for anything resembling casual wear.
Ririka stood nearby, mask in place, quietly inspecting a bookshelf
Kirari's eyes lit up the moment she saw him. She sauntered forward, hips swaying, leaning in so close her considerable cleavage was impossible to ignore.
"My~ my~" she purred, voice dripping honey and danger. "I've been waiting for you, A~ki~ra~kun~"
"Momobami," he stated flatly. The sight was distracting, intentionally so, but after the day he'd had (and those three girls outside, especially those "girls"), he welcomed any distraction
Still, breaking in crossed a line. Even Satoru knew boundaries… sometimes.
"Now, now, don't be such a downer," Kirari cooed. "You have two beautiful young girls in your apartment, all for yourself. And we're very willing to do anything you desire."
She snapped her fingers. Ririka silently let her kimono fall away, pooling at her feet. She stood bare, expression hidden behind the mask, body language submissive and still.
Kirari stepped behind her twin, hands gliding possessively over Ririka's skin-caressing, teasing, drawing soft gasps.
"I sent you so many pictures," Kirari whispered, lips brushing Ririka's ear. "Quite a lot of them. But not a single reply. It breaks my heart, Akira-kun. Don't you see how much I want you?"
Ririka let out a quiet, muffled "Ahh~" as her sister's fingers traced lower.
Akira's crimson eyes stayed locked on Kirari, ignoring the display entirely.
"What do you want, Momobami?"
Kirari's smile sharpened. She released Ririka, who quickly gathered her yukata and retreated a step, then closed the distance to Akira
"Let's say… I came upon some information information." She pulled a small stack of photos from her sleeve and fanned them on her face. The pictures were him and Gojo in both the school festival "You spent the day with some very interesting students. Including Busujima Saeko."
Akira's gaze narrowed.
"I looked into what really happened at Fujimi Academy," Kirari continued smoothly. "That 'terrorist attack' excuse was laughable. A survivor's full account wasn't cheap, but money talks louder than fear. Imagine my surprise when the description matched: a white-haired man with red eyes who appeared out of nowhere and stopped a stitched-up monstrosity after Busujima cut down dozens of… zombies."
She pressed one slender finger against his chest, right over his heart.
"I wonder… who that could be?"
She stepped back, twirling innocently.
"And then today. Sugar Park. You, a gaggle of students including Busujima Saeko, an ex-JAA assassin named Sakamoto Tarou who has a bounty on his head… and Gojo Satoru himself. The strongest sorcerer alive, apparently calling you cousin."
She sank gracefully to the floor, elbows on his low table, chin in her hands like she was laying out a winning bet.
"Of course, I have contacts in every circle worth gambling in, the JAA, the jujutsu world, even the shadows between them. So, when I asked around… guess what I found?"
Akira already knew. He sat across from her, expression unreadable.
Kirari's eyes gleamed with predatory delight.
"I really hit the jackpot, didn't I? Falling in love with the new 'Strongest Sorcerer' himself."
A long silence stretched between them. Ririka watched quietly from the corner, mask hiding any reaction
Akira finally spoke, voice low and serious
"You have been busy"
"Oh, darling," she laughed softly, leaning forward. "This is just the ante. The real game starts now"
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(Momobami Kirari's POV)
Ever since she was a child, Kirari had been taught how the world worked.
Money.
Everything moved because of money. Everyone had a price. Everything had a price.
The Momobami family owned so much of it that the word "price" sometimes felt like a joke only other people had to take seriously.
She inherited the fear that came with it too.
Teachers bowed when she walked past.
Classmates smiled too wide, too fast. If she pointed at someone and said "beat him," the whole room would move.
No questions. No hesitation. Just obedience.
That was why the halls felt empty even when they were full of people.
She had Ririka, of course. But Ririka was blood. Ririka was the mirror she held up so she didn't have to look at herself alone.
That didn't count as company.
Gambling changed the taste of her life
The first time she bet something real, something that could actually hurt, she felt her heart slam against her ribs like it wanted out.
The possibility of losing.
The possibility of being stripped bare in front of strangers who suddenly weren't afraid of her anymore.
That rush was better than any throne her family could give her.
She chased it. Again. And again. And she kept winning.
Winning became boring too.
Then came Yoshioka Akira.
At the Shinomiya party he appeared like someone that already had everything.
He had money, more than should be possible without leaving footprints or secret dealings. Influence that made even her family's investigators come back with shrugs and nervous laughter. Yet he chose to stand in front of a chalkboard and teach teenagers
He had the most beautiful white hair she has ever seen. Red eyes that seemed dull but shinned deeply. Quiet voice that somehow drowned out every other sound in the room. Yet no lovers, no scandals, not even a single nameable sexual partner
She dug. She always dug.
Nothing.
He was clean in a way that felt insulting
Then, came the poker table.
He sat across from her like it she was just another gambler.
No tension at all, not a single drop of fear. Just those red eyes watching her and undressing her completely
He won.
Complete victory
And for the first time Kirari felt small.
Powerless.
Wet between the legs and shaking with something that wasn't anger.
If he had crooked one finger she would have climbed onto the table right then. Spread herself open. Let him take her in front of the entire room, dignity, reputation, everything, gone. She would have thanked him for it. Smile in pleasure as he painted her insides with his seed
He didn't.
He just stood up, nodded once like and left
That was the moment obsession took root.
She collected fragments of him the way some people collect stamps.
Photos from security cameras. Audio clips stolen from school events. Screenshots of forum posts where students whispered about the "weirdly hot teacher with white hair and his just as hot cousin"
Videos of him walking down hallways, hands in pockets, expression blank.
She showed them to Ririka too.
Made her watch. Made her listen. Made her body learn how to react when his name was spoken. Trained her to flush, to tremble, to ache on command.
Because when the time came, Kirari wanted to offer him a perfect double. Two of her. Two chances to break what no one else had ever touched.
Because this wasn't desire anymore
This was love.
No.
This was L̸͚͐͋͗̑̆̅̿͊́̕͠O̴̢̪̍̂̐̈́V̵̢̖͉̪̺̼̈̔̽̈́̄̌̄͑͘Ě̴̥̤̠̲̽̀̂͂
And tonight, she finally held cards that mattered.
Proof. Real proof.
The polite school teacher who smiled at children was the same man who had apparently beaten Gojo Satoru.
Expose that and his quiet life ended.
Blackmail was just another bet.
And Kirari never lost when the pot was big enough.
"So, what shall it be, darling~?" she purred, chin on her hand, staring straight into those endless red eyes. "I'm sure you know exactly what I want for my silence."
One night. His hands. His mouth. His seed deep enough to knock her up. Or longer. Months. Years. A swollen belly tying him to her forever.
Any version would do. She would take the scraps if that was all he offered.
BRUUUM
Then the room turned red.
Air became iron.
A weight crushed down like the world had sat on her shoulders
Ririka dropped beside her, palms slapping wood, body shaking.
Kirari looked up.
Akira hadn't moved.
But his eyes…
Pity.
Not rage. Not disgust.
Pity.
Like she was a child throwing a tantrum in a world too big for her.
And beneath the pity, something more primal.
Killing intent...
So pure it felt like teeth against her throat.
Her life wasn't hers anymore. It balanced on the edge of his next breath. At his mercy
She had felt killing intent before. From yakuza bosses she ruined. From gamblers she humiliated. Thin echoes.
This was different.
This was primal
This was a predator deciding whether or not to finish off his pray
And part of her, deep, shameful, dripping part, wanted him to choose yes.
"You think" he said, voice flat yet completely emotionless "You can come into my house and threaten me."
The pressure vanished.
Colours returned.
Air tasted normal again.
Akira exhaled once, slow, controlled.
"Take this as your last and only warning, Kirari. Leave my life alone." He stood. Walked to the door. Paused and turned back "Make sure to clean my floor as you leave."
The latch clicked.
Silence.
Ririka lifted her head, mask crooked.
"Ane-sama… are you okay?"
Kirari didn't answer.
She looked down.
A puddle had spread beneath her. Clear at the edges. Not all urine.
Her hands moved before her mind caught up.
Fingers slipped under yukata. Found slick heat. Pinched a nipple hard enough to bruise.
A broken sound tore out of her throat.
"Akira~… Akira~… Akira~…"
They would have a lot to clean later
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(Third Person's POV)
Akira paused on the hallway, one hand still on the railing.
The killing intent he had released lingered in his own veins like smoke a feeling he thought he has forgotten. He thought he has left behind, but after hundreds of years of living by that sole feeling it seems it still lingers even on the strongest minds
To think anyone would make him feel like that again
He exhaled slowly through his nose, forcing the red haze from his vision.
Too close.
He had almost crossed a line he swore never to approach again, not in this life, not in any.
But threats to the quiet he had carved out…... those were non-negotiable.
The night air outside was cool.
He better deal with the problem he felt
-----------------------------------------------
The Busujima family mansion stood quiet under the moon, its traditional wooden halls lit only by soft paper lanterns.
Saeko led Yami down a long corridor lined with sliding shoji screens, the blonde girl trailing silently behind her
They stopped at a spare guest room, tatami floors, a low table, a futon already laid out with fresh linens, and a small window overlooking the garden koi pond.
"This will be your room," Saeko said, voice calm and measured. She slid the door open fully. "It has its own bath. There are spare yukatas in the closet if you prefer not to sleep in that dress. We can go shopping for clothes if you want"
Yami stepped inside without a word. She looked around once, then sat directly on the tatami in the center of the room, legs folded neatly.
"...Thank you," she said softly. Her dark-red eyes flicked up to Saeko. "You are letting me stay because Sensei asked."
Saeko tilted her head slightly, a faint smile touching her lips. "Partly. Sensei has always been someone I look up to. He has helped me more than he even knows, so if he asks, what can I do but say yes"
Yami blinked once. "...Okay. As long as there is food."
"There will be plenty of food," Saeko assured her. "We have a full kitchen arranged. Taiyaki can be arranged daily if that is your preference"
Yami's expression didn't change, but her shoulders relaxed a fraction. "...Good."
Saeko turned to leave, pausing at the doorway. "If you need anything tonight, my room is at the end of this hall. Do not hesitate."
Yami nodded once, already reaching into the small pouch at her waist and pulling out a half-eaten taiyaki she must have pocketed earlier from the food court. She took a small bite, chewing slowly
Saeko slid the door almost closed, leaving it cracked just enough for courtesy, then walked back toward the main wing.
Her phone buzzed. She pulled it out, glanced at the screen. An unknown number. She answered anyway.
"Busujima Saeko speaking."
A nervous, familiar voice came through the line—soft, hesitant, laced with embarrassment.
"U-um… is this really Busujima-san? From school?"
Saeko's brow lifted slightly. "Shizuka-sensei?"
"Y-yes! It's me, Marikawa Shizuka. I… I got your number from the staff directory. I hope that's okay"
Saeko leaned against the hallway wall "It is fine. What can I do for you, Sensei?"
A long pause on the other end. Saeko could almost picture Shizuka fidgeting, cigarette probably already between her fingers even though she wasn't supposed to smoke on school grounds.
"I… um… I was wondering if you could help me talk to your Sensei"
Saeko's smile turned just a shade sharper, though her voice stayed perfectly polite. "Regarding?"
"I… I think I can now see spirits"
-----------------------------------------------------------
(???'s POV)
A soft chime echoed in his mind
Ding!
(Sign-in Complete: Obtained [Tsugikuni Yoriichi Template])
The young man who had just been yanked into this new reality blinked at the floating blue panel in front of his face. Soon, he would be someone greater. He grinned, wide and arrogant, chest swelling with certainty.
'Blessed by the heavens themselves'
He didn't know which anime world this was. Isekai were all the same anyway. Cute girls, weak villains
He could already picture it: a harem of waifus falling at his feet, jealous rivals crushed under his heel, the protagonist spot stolen without effort.
'This body… this power… it's mine now. Yoriichi's swordsmanship, that breathing technique, the sun itself in my veins. Who could stop me?'
He laughed out loud
'I'm going to fuck this world sideways. Starting with whoever's closest. Schoolgirls? Heroines? Doesn't matter. They're all mine—'
System failure ERROR;·($())=?*
The panel flickered violently.
System failure ERROR))%(=·==
The man froze. "What the…?"
He turned, intending to curse at the interface, to demand it fix itself.
He never finished the motion.
His arms exploded.
Not cut—exploded. Bone and flesh turned to red mist in an instant. Legs followed a heartbeat later. The pain hit like a freight train made of fire. He collapsed forward, screaming, blood spraying in thick arcs across the void-floor that wasn't really there.
He tried to crawl. Nothing left to crawl with.
System failure.$("/=R̵̡̠͖̋̿̆͌̋͑̍͌͘͝Ů̴͇͖̮̭̬N̸̛̟̺̠̲̖̑͋͒̈̂̚ͅ)
The corrupted text scrolled once, then dissolved into static.
Through tears and blood, he looked up
A white-haired man stood beside him, calm, crimson eyes glowing faintly in the dark. No weapon visible. He stood there with his hands on his pockets, yet his presence was Overwhelming
"I have dealt with a lot of your kind," the stranger said quietly, kneeling so they were eye-level. "Many times before. Across a multitude of worlds, I have dealt with millions of guys like you. Thinking you are blessed. Thinking that just because chance chose you, you are entitled to have anything you want, whenever you want it."
The man on the ground tried to speak. Only wet gurgles came out.
The white-haired stranger sighed, almost tired.
"And for what?" he continued. "In the end, after thousands of years, you are just going to be repeating the same thing over and over again. Until the same things that made you happy make you angry, the same beautiful faces become dull, the same pleasant sensations become bland"
He stood again, looking somewhere far beyond the void.
"I apologize for rambling. I guess you caught me at a difficult time." A small, private smile touched his lips. "But that Kirari… I knew this one was special, but to make me feel like that. I guess I shall pay more attention to her."
His gaze returned to the broken thing at his feet.
"As for you… do not worry." Voice soft now, almost gentle. "I will make sure your sponsor gets the same treatment. Goodbye."
One step forward.
The world went black for the man who thought he was chosen.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
(̸̟̓̇̕?̴̧̥̾̂͝?̸̻̗̈́?̴̣̭̼͂̌͝)̵̡́̂̐
Another one gone.
The entity, formless, amused, eternal, shrugged in the way only something without shoulders could
'Welp. Time to grab another one. After all, entertainment doesn't appear by itself'
It began scanning realities again, fingers of thought reaching for the next desperate soul, the next template, the next pawn.
But something prickled.
A gaze.
On its back.
It turned, slowly. Its projection swiveling in the void.
There.
Standing right beside the corpse of his last sponsee, staring straight through layers of non-space, was the white-haired man.
Not looking at the corpse. Not looking at the blood.
Looking up.
Directly at it.
The entity felt something it had not felt in eons.
Cold.
"Who… who is that guy?"
A voice answered.
Not from any direction. From everywhere. From inside its nonexistent skull.
"You know," the voice said calmly, "it is impolite to invade the h̴̝̥̯̣̣̦͐͗o̷̳̞̪̪̟̝̺̊ṁ̷͖̤͕̬̯̝ͅe̸͉͙̮̺̟̿ of someone without p̴̙̋e̵̖̻͂r̸̨͖̅͆ṃ̴̢͉͆͆̓ĩ̷̩̼͊s̶̖̀͐͜s̴̹̙͌̓ị̵̏ȍ̷͕̿͝n̷̳̥̔̐̈́."
The entity tried to pull away.
It couldn't.
The last thing it registered, before the void itself seemed to fold inward, was fear.
Pure, primal, endless fear.
Then nothing
-------------------------------------------------------------
(Thousands of Years Ago)
(???'s POV)
The guild hall was a slaughterhouse. No, the entire city of Fiore seemed like a bloodbath
Bodies everywhere
Friends, enemies, strangers, piled like broken dolls in pools of blood that stank of iron and putrid gore
The air hummed with death, thick enough to choke on. Gray lay crumpled against a shattered wall, ice melting from his fingertips.
Erza's armor scattered in pieces. Her sword snapped like a twig.
Lucy's keys dull and lifeless on the floor. Happy… gods, Happy was just a small blue heap, wings torn.
And him.
The white-haired bastard with red eyes. He stood in the center of it all, untouched, expression blank as a grave. Not even breathing hard.
Flames roared in my veins. His fists ignited, scales crawling up my arms. Dragon Slayer magic surged, hot, furious, ready to burn this monster to ash.
"You… YOU BASTARD!" He screamed, lunging forward. "I'm gonna—"
A hand clamped on his shoulder. An Iron grip he couldn't break from
He froze. The white-haired man was right in front of him now
How? He hadn't seen him move.
His red eyes met his own. No hate. No glee. Just… tired.
"If you had the chance," He said quietly, voice like a whisper over a battlefield, "To go to another world, and meet your friends once again… would you take it?"
His flames sputtered. What the hell kind of question was that? Friends? They were right here. Dead. His guild. His family.
"No!" I snarled, trying to twist free. "My friends are here! Right here! And you're gonna pay for—"
"See," he interrupted, almost smiling. Sad. Understanding. "I knew you would get it."
A snap sounded
The world blurred. Faded. Like ink washing away in rain.
Everything went dark.
-------------------------------------------------------------
(Third Person's POV)
The mountain of corpses stretched under a blood-red sky, a grotesque throne of twisted limbs and blood
Fairy Tail's emblem, once bright and defiant—now smeared across broken banners fluttering in the wind alongside many other guild emblems.
The air reeked of rot and ozone, remnants of magic that were useless against the white-haired man
Akira sat atop the pile, white hair matted with gore, crimson eyes staring at nothing. His hands, stained red, hung limp at his sides.
A translucent text panel shimmered into existence in front of him, hovering like a cruel reminder.
[How long are you going to continue like this?]
Akira's lips curled into a bitter snarl. "As long as it takes. To calm down this rage. Then I can think what to do."
[Are you sure this is healthy? Destroying full worlds only to vent?]
He shot to his feet, fists clenched, voice cracking like thunder. "And whose fault do you think that is, huh?! Whose fault is that?!"
The panel flickered, silent for a beat.
Akira collapsed to his knees, the corpses shifting under him like unstable ground. Tears carved clean paths through the blood on his face, flowing hot and unchecked.
"Everyone I've ever loved… everyone I cared about… all dead."
[I'm sorry. For not telling you sooner. But it was designed that way.]
"FUCK YOU!!" Akira roared, eyes bawling out more tears, raw and uncontrollable. His fists pounded the mangled flesh beneath him, splattering red. "FUCK YOU AND YOUR DESIGN!"
The truth had shattered him. Every world he left behind, every jump to a new reality, erased the old one. Obliterated. Gone
Friends. Lovers. Students. Families he had built across a thousand lives.
All dust.
All because of the one behind the "system" that pulled his strings.
The panel dimmed, vanishing without another word.
Akira curled into himself, sobs echoing across the ruined world.
Alone.
Again.