"You can tell Yuta what you've found out, including your analysis and guesses. But you can't make the decision for him."
Satoru Gojo looked at Akira and continued, "If we start deciding other people's futures just because we think our choices are better for them, how are we any different from those stubborn old men?"
He paused for a moment before adding, "Ari, thinking things through and weighing your options is a good habit. But sometimes, you should try following your feelings instead. You're still young, after all. What's the point of being young if you always have to act like an adult?"
Akira fell silent.
He wanted to argue, but after thinking about it carefully, he realized that Satoru Gojo had a point.
More importantly, those words made him notice a problem he had overlooked for a long time.
Kento Nanami had once advised him to focus on doing his own job. At the time, Akira thought he understood what Nanami meant. Now, however, he realized that the problem went much deeper than that.
Ever since his transmigration, Akira had relied on two major advantages.
The first was his Optimization Method.
The second was his knowledge of the original plot.
Together, these two advantages had helped him overcome countless difficulties. They allowed him to plan ahead, avoid unnecessary trouble, and make decisions that others would never have thought of.
Thanks to them, he had gradually earned the recognition and trust of everyone at Tokyo Jujutsu High.
However, there was also a hidden danger in relying on them too much.
What exactly was the Optimization Method of an adult?
Efficiency, planning, and choosing the option that produced the best results.
As for his knowledge of the future, it naturally became the most valuable tool for making those decisions.
After sixteen years in this world, Akira had grown accustomed to following the path he believed was correct.
He knew what would happen in the future. He knew which choices would lead to disaster and which ones would bring the greatest benefits.
Naturally, he had begun to trust his own judgment more and more.
Without realizing it, he had even started believing that his understanding of certain matters was better than everyone else's.
After all, who in this world understood Jujutsu Kaisen better than someone who had actually read the original story?
Thinking about it now, wasn't this somewhat similar to Satoru Gojo?
Gojo's overwhelming strength had given him absolute confidence. As the years passed, that confidence gradually made it difficult for him to take other people's strength and opinions seriously.
Akira had developed a similar habit, except his confidence came from knowing the future.
Yuta Okkotsu's situation was the perfect example.
Akira already knew how to remove the curse binding Rika Orimoto.
In the original story, Yuta had willingly offered his own life to Rika. He had been prepared to die alongside her, fulfilling their childhood promise to remain together forever while also accepting responsibility for the curse.
The truth behind that curse was something neither of them had understood.
Rika Orimoto had never cursed Yuta Okkotsu.
It was Yuta who had cursed Rika.
When the young Yuta saw Rika's lifeless body after the accident, he couldn't accept her death. His mind was filled with the promise they had made to each other.
They were supposed to stay together forever.
His desperate refusal to let her go had unconsciously activated the power inherited through his Jujutsu Sorcerer bloodline.
As a result, Rika's soul was bound by his curse, eventually giving birth to the Special Grade Vengeful Cursed Spirit known as Rika Orimoto.
Since Yuta was the one who created the curse, removing it required him to accept responsibility for what he had done.
However, the final decision also depended on Rika herself.
If Rika chose to forgive Yuta and no longer demanded that he pay for the curse, the binding could be released.
Her soul would then be free to ascend.
Akira knew all of this.
He also knew what would happen afterward.
Once Rika's curse was removed, Yuta Okkotsu would lose his Special Grade classification and fall all the way to Grade Four.
From there, he would have to work his way back up through the ranks.
Of course, losing Rika's soul wouldn't mean losing everything.
Although the soul of the original Rika Orimoto would ascend, the shell of the Cursed Spirit would remain behind as part of Yuta's technique.
In other words, Yuta would still possess Rika as a manifestation of his own power.
However, there was no guarantee that this remaining shell could match the original Special Grade Vengeful Cursed Spirit.
After all, the original Rika had possessed enough Cursed Energy and potential to threaten the entire Jujutsu World.
Even Satoru Gojo had taken her existence seriously.
Compared to that overwhelming power, Yuta's strength after the curse was removed had clearly dropped by a level, at least temporarily.
The difference wasn't something Akira could easily ignore.
Moreover, there was another detail about Rika Orimoto that had always bothered him.
Although Yuta's curse was responsible for turning her into a Vengeful Cursed Spirit, Rika herself had never been an ordinary child.
When she was five years old, her mother suddenly died under unknown circumstances.
Later, just two days before she was supposed to enter elementary school, Rika went hiking with her father.
Both of them disappeared during that trip.
A week later, Rika was found alone in a shelter near the mountain's summit.
Her father was never found.
Afterward, Rika was taken in by her grandmother.
However, her grandmother firmly believed that Rika had been responsible for the deaths of both her parents.
There was no clear evidence proving this suspicion, but Rika's behavior had certainly been unusual for a child her age.
She knew how to use her words, expressions, and appearance to influence adults. At times, she even seemed fully aware of how easily certain people could be manipulated.
Rika might never have been a Jujutsu Sorcerer, but calling her an ordinary little girl would have been difficult.
Back when Akira read the manga in his previous life, he had already formed a theory about this.
Perhaps Yuta Okkotsu hadn't created the entire existence of the Special Grade Vengeful Cursed Spirit by himself.
The curse had come from Yuta, but Rika's own nature might have contributed to what she eventually became.
The two of them had influenced each other, ultimately creating one of the most powerful Cursed Spirits in existence.
Of course, that was only Akira's personal theory.
There was no way to prove it with the information he currently possessed.
Still, even setting aside questions about their power, there was another matter worth considering.
Their feelings.
Yuta and Rika genuinely loved each other.
They had promised to remain together forever, and even death hadn't been enough to completely separate them.
So was releasing Rika's soul and allowing her to ascend really the best ending for Yuta?
Akira had never completely agreed with the idea that loving someone meant being willing to let them go.
At least, he didn't believe that it should be treated as an absolute rule.
If two people genuinely wanted to stay together, why should someone else decide that separation was better for them?
As for the difference between humans and Cursed Spirits, Akira personally didn't consider that an insurmountable problem.
He was someone who had raised a Gardevoir, after all.
Would he really care that much about the difference between species?
Because of these thoughts, Akira had always leaned toward a particular conclusion.
Perhaps it would be better if Rika Orimoto's curse was never removed.
Yuta would retain the full strength of the Special Grade Vengeful Cursed Spirit, while Rika could continue staying by his side.
From Akira's perspective, there were obvious advantages to this outcome.
Yet after listening to Satoru Gojo, he finally realized what he had overlooked.
Those advantages were things that Akira valued.
Did Yuta and Rika value them just as much?
Some people pursued strength because they wanted to stand above everyone else. Others wanted enough power to protect themselves and the people they cared about.
Yuta Okkotsu clearly belonged to the latter group.
That kindhearted boy had never dreamed of becoming invincible.
His greatest wish had always been much simpler.
He wanted to live peacefully with the people important to him.
If Yuta believed that releasing Rika was the right choice, then losing his Special Grade status might not matter to him at all.
Similarly, if Rika herself wanted to be freed, what right did Akira have to keep her bound simply because he believed it would benefit Yuta?
Whether they chose to hold on or let go was ultimately their own business.
Akira could explain the possible consequences. He could offer suggestions, tell them what he knew, and help them avoid unnecessary mistakes.
But the final choice had to belong to them.
Otherwise, he would only be forcing his own values onto someone else.
And wasn't that exactly what the conservative higher-ups had been doing all these years?
They believed their decisions were correct, so they expected everyone else to obey.
Anyone who disagreed was treated as a problem.
Akira had always disliked that attitude.
Yet without noticing, he had begun developing a similar way of thinking.
He couldn't help wondering whether some of those old men had once been just like him.
Perhaps they had also started out with good intentions, genuinely believing that their decisions would improve the Jujutsu World.
Then, after years of having their authority and judgment reinforced, they gradually stopped listening to anyone else.
The thought made Akira uncomfortable.
Fortunately, someone had pointed out his problem before it reached that stage.
Looking at Satoru Gojo again, Akira felt a little complicated.
He had to admit that his teacher was much more reliable than he usually appeared.
Unfortunately, Satoru Gojo was still Satoru Gojo.
Seeing Akira's changing expression, Gojo could already guess what was going through his mind.
A smug grin immediately appeared on his face.
"Well? How was that?"
Gojo leaned closer and adjusted his sunglasses.
"Was your teacher handsome just now? Did I impress you? Come on, you can admit it. I'm actually a pretty competent teacher, aren't I?"
The little respect Akira had just developed immediately disappeared.
He took a step back, his face full of disgust.
"I'm not interested in men."
Seriously, couldn't this guy act normal for even five minutes?
They were two grown men. Akira had absolutely no intention of playing along with whatever strange act Gojo was putting on.
"Huh? What does that have to do with anything?"
Satoru Gojo looked completely unconcerned.
"Besides, I don't need anyone else to appreciate my looks. Just looking in the mirror is enough to make me happy."
He then raised his chin proudly.
"After all, is there anyone in this world who's better-looking than me?"
As if that wasn't enough, Gojo deliberately removed his sunglasses.
His bright blue Six Eyes were fully revealed as he gave Akira an exaggerated wink.
Akira shuddered.
Goosebumps immediately spread across his arms.
Damn it, Satoru Gojo!
Heaven, earth, Buddha, gods, or whoever else might be listening!
Could someone please come and deal with this monster?!
Unfortunately, it seemed that no one in this world was capable of controlling Satoru Gojo.
...
During Akira's childhood, Pokémon had been translated as "Pet Pokémon."
Looking back on it now, Akira felt that the translation was fairly accurate, apart from the word "pet."
After all, many Pokémon were larger than humans.
Some were enormous creatures capable of destroying buildings, changing the weather, or even affecting entire regions.
Calling those things pets was a little strange.
Even the items used by certain Pokémon could be ridiculously large compared to ordinary human equipment.
However, the Pokémon part of the name was accurate enough.
At the very least, Satoru Gojo's Six Eyes had already given the existence and nature of Pokémon its own gold-level certification.
With that kind of confirmation, Akira had little reason to doubt it.
As for the question of raising Pokémon as pets, the actual difficulty varied greatly depending on the species.
Most Pokémon weren't that different from ordinary animals when it came to their daily needs.
Of course, there were a few unusual exceptions.
Some Pokémon were intelligent and humanlike enough that people might even consider them suitable partners for marriage.
Those cases were rare, however, and Akira had no intention of discussing the strange beliefs of certain people who took that idea much further.
Leaving those people aside, raising Pokémon was still a matter of providing the right food, environment, and care.
Some species were extremely easy to keep alive.
Grass-type Pokémon were the best examples.
Oddish and Sunkern, in particular, could meet most of their energy needs through photosynthesis.
As long as there was enough sunlight, water, and a suitable environment, they could survive without needing much additional food.
Some Grass-type Pokémon could even produce useful materials or other byproducts.
In other words, instead of spending money to raise them, their trainers might actually earn money from keeping them.
Such Pokémon were practically ideal for people who wanted companions without taking on too much responsibility.
On the other hand, certain Pokémon were much more troublesome.
Cottonee, for example, could be rather sensitive to changes in its surroundings.
Some rare Dragon-type Pokémon, such as Dratini, also had strict requirements concerning food, temperature, and living conditions.
Raising those species properly could be just as troublesome as keeping certain reptiles in the real world.
Anyone who had ever raised lizards or snakes would understand how much attention those animals could require.
If the temperature was wrong, they could get sick.
If the humidity was unsuitable, problems could appear.
Even feeding them the wrong food could cause serious trouble.
Pokémon with special environmental requirements naturally came with similar difficulties.
Fortunately, the Pokémon currently following Akira were all relatively easy to raise.
Gardevoir was the simplest example.
The Ralts evolutionary line could eat the same food as humans, so there was no need to prepare a special diet for her.
For the Ake Clan, raising Gardevoir basically meant putting one extra pair of chopsticks on the dining table.
Whatever the family ate, she could eat as well.
She wasn't particularly picky, either.
As long as the food was edible and reasonably prepared, she rarely caused any trouble.
In that regard, she was probably one of the most convenient Pokémon a human could raise.
Pancham was slightly more troublesome.
As its appearance suggested, Pancham had a particular fondness for bamboo.
Its digestive system was also somewhat similar to that of real-world pandas, which meant it wasn't especially strong compared to other wild animals.
Fortunately, Pancham had inherited the advantages of being an omnivore.
Although bamboo remained its favorite food, it could also eat meat and vegetables without much difficulty.
Raw food was fine.
Cooked food was fine, too.
It wasn't particularly fussy about how its meals were prepared.
Occasionally, it would even pick up a metal spoon and lick it with an oddly proud expression, as if it had just accomplished something impressive.
Akira had never quite understood what Pancham found so satisfying about that.
Still, as long as it wasn't causing trouble, he didn't see any reason to interfere.
At present, Pancham stood only about 0.6 meters tall.
Compared to a full-grown Pangoro, it was still rather small.
However, once it evolved, its size would increase considerably.
Akira couldn't help imagining what it would look like then.
A large, powerful Pangoro carrying someone on its back.
With the right appearance and equipment, perhaps it would even be suitable for Chi You to ride into battle against the Yellow Emperor.
Well, probably.
At the very least, that was what Akira thought.
Right, Darkrai?
"Mm."
Darkrai gave a brief response.
Whether it actually agreed with Akira's strange comparison was another matter entirely.
In fact, judging from its reaction, it probably hadn't been listening very carefully in the first place.
Darkrai was currently occupied with something far more important.
Eating.
Akira watched the process with a rather complicated expression.
Even now, he found it somewhat difficult to accept what he was seeing.
Darkrai was a Mythical Pokémon.
It belonged to the same extremely rare category as Mew, with an existence even harder to encounter than many Legendary Pokémon.
In terms of rarity alone, it was already far beyond ordinary Pokémon.
Its appearance was mysterious, its abilities were powerful, and its connection to darkness and nightmares made it seem even more unusual.
Akira had originally expected that raising such a Pokémon would require considerable effort.
Perhaps it would need some kind of special food.
Perhaps its living environment would have to be carefully prepared.
At the very least, he had assumed that a Mythical Pokémon would have requirements matching its extraordinary status.
Reality, however, had given him a rather unexpected answer.
Darkrai was surprisingly easy to feed.
Its feeding method was also extremely simple.
There was no need to prepare a meal, cook anything, or even provide a feeding bowl.
Whenever it wanted to eat, something resembling a mouth would form within the darkness surrounding its body.
Then, a strong suction force would appear.
The nearby "residue" would be drawn toward it and swallowed almost immediately.
The entire process was quick and straightforward.
Akira watched as the surrounding residue disappeared into Darkrai's body.
For a moment, he didn't know what to say.
A powerful Mythical Pokémon, an existence that countless trainers in the Pokémon world could only dream of encountering, was actually this easy to raise?
Somehow, the contrast between Darkrai's terrifying reputation and its ordinary feeding habits made him feel rather conflicted.