Jujutsu High – Underground Records Vault
2:03 a.m.
Man, you ever walk into a place and just *taste* the secrets in the air? Gojo Satoru sure did. Down in the bowels of Jujutsu High, surrounded by cabinets old enough to have seen a samurai or two, the whole vibe screamed "do not touch." Of course, that's practically an invitation for Gojo.
His blindfold dangled loose, like he couldn't be bothered. Six Eyes? Nah. Not tonight. He was hunting something messy—something the old heads wished they'd burned for good.
He ran his fingers along the shelves. Paper cuts waiting to happen. Ghosts. Then—bam—there it was. Hidden like your last piece of Halloween candy, all sealed up in nasty, cursed wax. Marked with the stamp every sorcerer dreads.
On the cover, someone had gone full drama:
"Project Nine-Tongue"
Experimental Curse Vessel Program
Status: Terminated
Lead Researcher: Sano Kaito
Asset: Ryuunosuke Akashi (Subject 09-T)
Gojo's face? Stone cold.
"Oh, hell no. This wasn't just some random curse gone wild. They made him for this."
Jujutsu High – Infirmary
Akashi looked like someone ran him through a blender. Bandages everywhere, throat still crackling from that Dragon Tongue thing last night. And across from him, Ijichi reading an incident report like it was the morning news.
"No damage to living quarters. Curse remnants traced to Binding Style: Veil of Displacement," he droned.
Akashi frowned. "So, what? They wanted to sneak in, not kill me?"
Ijichi shrugged, nervous. "Whoever sent that guy… they're playing the long game. Didn't want you dead. Yet."
Akashi's jaw tightened.
"He said something weird—'The vessel isn't supposed to remember.' What the hell am I not supposed to remember?"
Bit of awkward silence.
Ijichi mumbled, "There's… stuff. Records. Deep in the archives. Only Gojo gets to see."
Akashi was up before the guy finished talking.
"Guess I'm talking to Gojo."
Elsewhere – Kyoto Prefectural Cursed Prison
Security Level: Erased
Oh, and here's Sano Kaito. Chained up like some cursed Christmas turkey, every limb wrapped in rune-carved steel. Blindfold? Sewn right into his skin. You think that's overkill? Nah, not for this guy.
Sight was gone. But his mind? Razor sharp. Remembered every ugly detail.
A voice hissed through the cell door.
"You've stirred the dragon."
Sano cocked his head, almost smiling.
"So the boy remembers… good."
He laughed. Not a fun sound, mind you. More like "time to hide the kids and the dog" kind of laugh.
"Let him come. Let him burn."
Back at Jujutsu High – Training Field, Dawn
Sunrise, but honestly, it might as well have been midnight. Gojo was there, no jokes, no smirk—just that thick old dossier clutched in his hand.
He held it out like it weighed a hundred pounds.
"This is what they didn't want you to see."
Akashi read. Didn't breathe. Knees nearly gave out.
There it was—his mom's name. Buried in the paperwork. Not some random victim, not a fluke. She was the first experiment. The prototype. And Akashi? Yeah, he was the "success story." Born from curses, shaped by pain.
A living weapon.
Akashi's voice came out raw.
"I'll kill every last one of them."
Gojo stopped him with a hand on the shoulder.
"Oh, you will. But not today. First… we get you ready."