The train arrived in Kyoto under a gray sky, as if the weather knew something dark and ambitious had descended upon the city. Naoya Zen'in, now fifteen, stepped off the car with a firm stride, his eyes scanning the surroundings like a predator scanning new territory. He was wearing the regulation uniform, but his movements and aura made him stand out in any crowd.
"So... this is the famous Kyoto Technical School of Sorcery," he muttered contemptuously. "Let's see if it's worth it."
From one of the watchtowers, Utahime Iori watched the arrival of the new student with her arms crossed. Although she tried to keep her expression neutral, a line of worry formed on her brow.
"So this is Naoya Zen'in... the boy everyone's been talking about lately," she said quietly to herself.
She had received clear instructions from the Commission: to monitor him, train him... but also to keep him under control. An impossible task.
"I don't trust him," commented a young sorcerer at his side, one of the attendees. "They say he killed a near-special rank one cursed spirit... alone, and with unnecessary brutality."
Utahime sighed.
"Don't underestimate him... but don't provoke him either. He's like a storm in a jar. We still don't know if he's going to break or explode."
Class began. The room was filled with murmurs and curious glances when Naoya walked through the door. His gait was elegant and arrogant, as if he owned the place. His classmates, mostly second-graders, watched him closely.
Among them were:
Yamato Hisashi, a quiet boy with barrier-type curses.
Reika, a clever and sarcastic user of illusionary curses.
Daigo, a burly man with a technique focused on absorbing cursed energy.
Suzu, a girl with control over plant curses, serious and meticulous.
Naoya scanned them with a superior smile, needing no words. He sat in the back row, standing apart from the rest, as if he already knew he was above them all.
"Welcome," Utahime said as she entered. "We have a new student today. I suppose he doesn't need much of an introduction."
"Zen'in Naoya," he interrupted, before she could continue. "I didn't come to make friends. I came to improve what I already am."
A murmur ran through the room. Reika let out a low laugh.
"Are you so insecure that you have to announce it?"
Naoya didn't even look at her. He just smiled.
"I'm not interested in what weaklings think."
During practical training, Utahime tried to assess their skills. She ordered the students to engage in tag-team sparring. When Naoya's turn came, everyone hesitated to approach.
"No one wants to fight me?" he taunted. "Or have you already given up?"
Daigo stepped forward.
"Me."
The fight began, but in less than thirty seconds, Naoya had pinned him down with a speed impossible for the rest of them to follow. He stopped short of breaking his arm.
"You're not worth it," he said coldly.
Utahime gritted his teeth.
"Naoya! This is an exercise in control, not a display."
He looked at her arrogantly.
"I controlled my power. If not, I'd be dead."
That night, while all the students were asleep, Naoya meditated alone in the backyard of the campus. The moonlight illuminated his face as he remembered Naobito's words weeks before:
"You can't rule the world if you can't even control your hatred."
"Tch... you old idiot," he whispered.
He clenched his fists. He knew his speed made him superior, his time-skip technique brought him closer to perfection. But something was missing. He still hadn't mastered the Reverse Curse Technique. He'd tried. Blood, meditation, tissue rupture... nothing.
"Gojo activated it after dying... do I really need to die to achieve it?"
That thought gnawed at him.
"I'm not like him. I'm better. But... if I have to come close to death to achieve it... maybe, just maybe..."
His thoughts were interrupted by footsteps behind him. It was Utahime.
"You can't train alone all night, Naoya. Tomorrow we have group combat practice."
He didn't answer. He just stood and looked at her.
"Have you ever thought of killing a student to make them improve?"
"What kind of question is that?"
"The kind of question asked by someone who's already surpassed everyone else their age, but still feels... incomplete."
Deep down, Utahime felt something strange: fear and compassion mixed together. That boy was broken. And if he wasn't fixed, he would become the same monster the Zen'in Clan elders feared so much... or worse.
"We'll talk tomorrow. And you'll team up. You're not here to be a lone wolf, no matter how much you want to be."
Naoya didn't reply. He just stared back at the moon, with the expression of someone who felt condemned to pursue perfection, even if it cost him his very humanity.