The night air in the Zen'in residence was thick and heavy. In the heart of the family dojo, Naoya stood silently facing the inner garden. He was fourteen years old, but his silhouette already projected the shadow of something larger… something darker.
His hands were clenched, not in anger, but in frustration.
"I am strong. Very strong…" he told himself. "But not invincible."
The words echoed in his mind like a raindrop falling again and again. Because even though he had defeated multiple enemies, overcome cursed spirits that no child his age could imagine facing… there was something he couldn't ignore:
Gojo Satoru. Sukuna. Toji Fushiguro.
Names that weighed heavily. Real monsters.
"I'm still far away…" he admitted, with a trace of bitterness.
He walked slowly down the tatami-matted hallway to his room, opening the paper door with a gentle slide. He closed the door behind him and sat on the floor in the lotus position. He didn't turn on the lights. Only the faint reflection of the moon on the shoji accompanied him.
Flashbacks.
The memories of his other life—that of the man he had been before being reincarnated—were inconsistent, but they were precise. He recalled a scene from an anime he had seen thousands of times before dying: Dragon Ball Super. The character named Hit.
An assassin with the ability to jump through time by fractions of a second, anticipating his opponent's movements.
"What if...?"
His breathing stopped for a moment.
"What if that technique could be adapted... here?"
He opened his eyes, sharp, penetrating. He began to reason, like a mad scientist testing impossible theories.
"The principles of cursed energy don't negate time... they box it in. They link it to emotions, intentions, will." If Mastery is a manifestation of absolute control… what's stopping a basic technique from altering the perception of time?
He stood up abruptly. He crossed the room and found a brush, paper, and inkwell. He began tracing kanji, diagrams, and formulas that looked like they were straight out of a cursed grimoire.
"It won't be part of the 'Time Cell Moon Palace,'" he murmured. "That's my expansion. This will be… something else. More refined. More precise. Like a scalpel in time."
"Cursed Time Leap," he thought.
It wasn't a definitive name, but it represented the idea. Instead of controlling time on a grand scale, like his Mastery, this technique would aim to jump micro-instants forward, allowing him to anticipate the enemy's movements.
"Zero point one second…" he wrote. "Enough to dodge, enough to attack."
The room filled with scribbles, sketches, and sequences. His eyes glittered. But something began to emerge in his chest: a dark unease.
What if this consumes me?
What if the more I break the laws of the world, the further I become from being human?
But instead of fear, he felt a smile form on his lips. An arrogant smile.
"So what if I distance myself from humanity... if that brings me closer to supremacy?"
He sat back in the lotus position. He closed his eyes and visualized the technique. Not as a fantasy, but as a concrete possibility. Every particle of cursed energy had to flow precisely. Every emotional impulse had to be focused: pride, ambition, contempt for the weak... were the fuel.
He visualized the leap.
An instant.
Then another.
Then another.
Step forward into the present. Let the body move before the enemy reacts. Don't stop time, don't manipulate it. Just jump over it, like a stone on the surface of a river.
Suddenly, his eyes opened. Something had changed. He had felt it.
A fluctuation. Small, almost imperceptible… but real.
"It works…" he whispered, smiling like a child discovering fire.
But at that moment, the door to his room slid open slightly. A humble figure poked his head out: a clan servant, his face concerned.
"Young Naoya, we hear murmurs… are you all right?"
Naoya didn't respond immediately. He glanced at him, his expression cold and distant, almost as if seeing a stain on a perfect painting.
"I'm busy. Don't interrupt me again without permission," he said sharply.
The servant stepped back instantly, bowing his head, but he couldn't help but notice the papers, the symbols, Naoya's blazing eyes.
"Y-yes, young master. My apologies…"
The door closed. Silence again.
Naoya gazed at the moon from his futon, without lying down.
"I am strong. But I want more."
"It's not enough to be the best of the Zen'in clan."
"I want to be... superior to time itself."
And while his breathing slowed, his mind continued calculating. Thinking. Exploring the limits of space and time from the cursed beginnings.
He was not a child. Not entirely.
He was a growing entity, one that had yet to show the world the true face of his ambition.