Perspective: Utahime Iori
"Naoya!" Utahime shouted as the creature squealed among the rusted ruins. "That kid needs help!"
But Naoya didn't move.
He stood there, arms crossed, on a rotten metal container, watching the scene as if it were a bad theater.
The almost special-rank curse, shaped like an inverted torso and limbs formed from fused bones, roared as two second-year students tried to keep their distance. One of them fell to the ground, a deep cut bleeding from his side.
Utahime felt her chest tighten.
"Aren't you going to help?!" she yelled at him again.
Naoya turned his face slightly, indifferent.
"What for? If you can't deal with that, you should retire from sorcery."
The sentence made her clench her fists. She wanted to respond, to yell at him... but then Geto acted. Her floating curses fired with surgical precision, distracting the creature. Beside her, Gojo stood motionless. He watched Naoya.
And then, Utahime understood.
It wasn't just arrogant. It was testing everyone. Them... and himself.
Another student's scream brought her out of her thoughts. The creature was advancing.
And just when everything seemed to break...
CRACK!
A time warp ripped through the air. The ruins shuddered. Everyone's internal clocks seemed to stop for an instant. The creature froze in place.
Naoya had vanished from his spot. And when he reappeared, it was in the air, right above the curse.
"Annoying..." he whispered, and reached out a hand.
As if he had activated an invisible mechanism, the cursed spirit's body shattered from within. Fragments of time danced in the air, like rusty gears floating meaninglessly.
Silence.
And then, nothing.
No spirit.
No remains.
No immediate human reaction.
Just Naoya, slowly turning to face the group.
Perspective: Gojo Satoru
Gojo let out a short sigh. His eyes were hidden by the blindfold, but his smile tightened slightly.
"Interesting technique," he said without irony. "But you know... true strength isn't just in breaking curses. It's also in knowing when to fight for others."
Naoya didn't even flinch.
"I'm not interested in your philosophy, Gojo. I came to do what a sorcerer is supposed to do: eradicate curses."
"Even if that means letting your companions die?"
"If they're not useful, they're a burden. I have no reason to carry them."
Gojo narrowed his eyes. For a moment, the atmosphere was charged. Something ancient, almost primal, stirred between them.
"Then I guess one day... one of us will have to crush the other," Gojo murmured.
Naoya smiled with the same coldness with which he had destroyed the curse.
"With pleasure."
Later: Call to Gakuganji
Back at the Kyoto camp, Utahime could barely remain calm as he spoke on the phone with the Gakuganji director.
"He didn't just ignore direct orders," he said, controlling his tone. "He waited for a comrade to be hurt. He did it deliberately, to prove his point."
The old man's voice echoed on the other end, deep and condescending.
"But he accomplished the mission?"
"Yes... and no. He saved lives, yes. But at the cost of demonstrating his total disregard for teamwork."
"Power comes first, Utahime. You can't prune a dragon to fit in a cage."
Utahime closed her eyes, frustrated.
"And when that dragon turns on us?"
Silence.
"Strict supervision," Gakuganji ruled. "But don't stop him. That boy will be a powerful card... if we know how to play it."
Masamichi Yaga's Office – Tokyo School
Yaga read the report carefully. Utahime had been precise, professional... and brutally honest. He looked up.
Shoko sat across from him, an unlit cigarette between her fingers. Geto rested a hand on the wall, thoughtful. Gojo, as always, had left mid-meeting.
"Opinions?"
Shoko sighed.
"It's going to be fun to watch these two egos collide. Although, honestly, it's scary to think what they'd do if they actually got into a serious fight."
Geto spoke quietly.
"That boy... Naoya... has no sense of responsibility. He's talented." Technically flawless. But he doesn't care about human life. That... makes him a bomb.
Yaga nodded slowly.
"Do you think he's redeemable?"
Geto hesitated.
"I don't know. Maybe, if someone can make him doubt themselves."
"Gojo, maybe?"
"Or the opposite?" Shoko said neutrally. "What if they convince each other that no one can judge them?"
Silence.
Hallway whispers
Students from Tokyo and Kyoto alike began repeating the story:
"They say Naoya Zen'in killed the spirit without touching it."
"He shattered it... as if time itself were shattering."
"But he left the others to their fate until the last second."
"Gojo almost fought him. It was a look... but it felt like a war."
Perspective: Suguru Geto
The next morning, the dojo was silent. Suguru Geto sat under the wooden veranda overlooking the inner courtyard of the Tokyo school, holding an untouched cup of tea. The chirping of crows was the only constant noise… until Gojo appeared, his hands in his pockets, his brow slightly furrowed.
"Are you still thinking about the brat?" he asked.
Geto didn't respond immediately. He just watched the steam rise from the tea as if he could read the consequences of the previous night there.
"It was like watching a human curse," he finally murmured. "Fast, precise, inhuman. There was no rage. No emotion. Only calculation… and superiority."
Gojo sat beside him, his gaze also on the sky.
"So what's the problem? Isn't that what the clans are after?"
"The problem," Geto took a cold sip now, "is that the clans forget that humanity is part of being a sorcerer. That boy… has no anchor. He doesn't act for anyone. Not even for himself. Only for a hollow conviction of power."
"You sound like Utahime," Gojo laughed, humorless.
"No. Utahime is worried about what Naoya might do. I'm worried about what you might do if you decide that boy represents everything you hate about the world."
Gojo looked at him, serious for a second.
"I'm not going to kill him, Suguru."
"What if he wants to kill you?"
Silence.
"Then… he'll have to get in line."
Perspective: Shoko Ieiri
In the infirmary, the silence was awkward.
Ayame Sasaki sat with her head bowed, her arm wrapped in bandages. Beside her, Riku was breathing slowly, still weakly. Hozuki stood, staring out the window, frowning.
Shoko didn't speak. She was just writing.
"Is it true that he left them to their fate?" she finally asked, without raising her voice.
Ayame didn't answer. Hozuki did.
"No... at least, not completely. He knew we were being watched. That someone would act if things got out of hand."
"And that seems like a consolation to you?" Shoko asked, now with a hint of suppressed fury. "That he let them bleed for a lesson? That he acted only to mark his territory?"
"He saved our lives," Riku murmured weakly.
Shoko put down her notebook and exhaled deeply.
"It's not just the physical damage… It's the psychological. The kind of presence that makes even the good guys hesitate. That boy doesn't need to be a cursed spirit to curse others…"
"Rest," he said finally. "The real scar isn't on the body, and you know it."
She closed the door behind her… more upset than she could remember being in a long time.
Perspective: Satoru Gojo
On the rooftop, Gojo looked out over the city. Beneath his dark bandages, his eyes kept replaying that moment:
The jump. The fragment of time. The perfect decapitation.
"Tsk…" He slumped onto the edge.
"It was magnificent. Arrogant. Brutal. Perfect."
But what bothered him most… wasn't the technique.
It was the calm. The clinical precision. The utter disdain.
"Is that the next symbol of the Zen'in clan?" A teenage killer with the manners of a bored nobleman?
He remembered Naoya's words:
"I didn't come here to make friends... I came to break curses."
"How fucking stupid."
But he couldn't shake the image of the technique. He couldn't pretend it didn't intrigue him.
"Time jumps, huh?"
He stretched, forcing a smile that wasn't real.
"I'm going to crush you one day, Zen'in. Not out of revenge. Not out of justice. Just because I want to show you that your vision of strength is as hollow as you are."
Epilogue: Rumors of the Fracture
In Tokyo and Kyoto, rumors spread like wildfire:
"The time boy decapitated the spirit without moving a muscle."
"Naoya Zen'in faced Gojo without flinching."
"They say Gojo hates him. That he respects him. That he doesn't know what to do with him."
And among the hallways and offices, a phrase began to be repeated like an omen:
"When two suns cross, the earth cracks."