Kyoto Technical School of Sorcery – Staff Offices, 5:41 p.m.
The sky was turning orange over the rooftops of the campus, and the distant sound of birds marked the end of another day. Professor Utahime Iori sighed, her back straight, her hands resting on her desk. Facing her, arms crossed, stood Naoya Zen'in, a recent arrival at the school, with the demeanor of someone who recognized no one else as his equal.
"So you wanted to talk to me, Professor?" Naoya said, his tone haughty, almost bored, as if every word was a waste of his valuable time.
Utahime took a deep breath. She'd dealt with young, rebellious, arrogant, impulsive sorcerers for years... but never one with as much innate talent as latent danger.
"Yes. Sit down, Naoya," she said, her voice firm.
He obeyed without argument, though he showed a slight grimace of annoyance. He sat down as if he owned the room.
"You've caused quite a stir on your first day. You defeated two of your classmates without breaking a sweat. Principal Gakuganji doesn't know whether to reward you or fail you," Utahime commented, crossing her legs, attentive to young Zen'in's every gesture.
Naoya smiled smugly.
"I'm not interested in what an old man who hasn't innovated in decades thinks," he replied. "If my classmates are weak, that's their problem. Not mine."
Utahime observed him in silence for a few seconds. Then she spoke, her voice lower, more personal.
"You know, you remind me of someone else. An incredibly talented boy, arrogant to the extreme... and very, very alone."
Naoya raised an eyebrow.
"Gojo Satoru?"
"Yes," Utahime admitted bluntly. "But you're different." He had friends. Even if he wouldn't admit it, he valued them. You don't seem capable of seeing anyone as anything more than... obstacles.
[Utahime's Perspective]
"This boy... isn't just arrogant. He's cold. Calculating. But what's most worrying isn't his strength... but his gaze. It's not that of a teenager who wants to grow. It's that of someone who already feels superior to the entire world. It worries me. It scares me."
"Naoya, what you're cultivating inside you isn't power. It's... a bomb. It will destroy you, or it will destroy others. Maybe both."
Naoya stared at her. His expression didn't change. But something stirred inside him.
[Naoya's Perspective]
"It's always the same. Everyone thinks they know what I need. That arrogance is bad. That pride blinds. But what really bothers them is that I can do things they can't."
"And you, Professor... have you ever felt what it's like to see the world slowed down by your power? To hear the beat of time itself and decide when to stop it? No? Then don't pretend to understand me."
Utahime swallowed. The silence grew dense. Finally, in a softer, almost maternal tone, she said:
"I'm not telling you to lower your head. Just to look around, even for a second. Sometimes, looking at others also teaches you something about yourself."
Naoya smiled slightly, but not mockingly. With something deeper. As if a very hidden part of him had been touched... barely.
"Maybe," he said, standing up. "But not today."
And he walked firmly out of the office, leaving Utahime in a sea of thoughts.
[End of Chapter – Reflections]
Utahime stared at the closed door, silent.
"He won't change with words. But maybe... there's still a spark. Maybe."
Naoya, for his part, walked through the halls of the empty building, feeling the echo of Utahime's words. He couldn't help but think of Gojo, of Toji, of Shoko, of all the names he knew from his previous life. Of what he was missing. Of what he couldn't force with pure power.
"Looking to the sides, huh? Maybe... when I'm the strongest, then yes."
And so, the first cracks in his absolute certainty began to appear. Small cracks. But real ones.