Jujutsu Kaisen: False Dawn

It started like any other day.

The skies above Tokyo Jujutsu High were streaked with soft morning gold, the clouds floating lazily like paint on a half-finished canvas. There was a kind of peace in the air that only comes from long stretches of normalcy—an illusion, Ren knew, but a beautiful one nonetheless.

Two weeks had passed since Ren's last serious encounter. Just two weeks, and already the memory of blood and curses had faded a little, like fog burned away by sun.

Things had been… nice.

Ren had taken up sword training again. Not for flash, not for cursed technique tricks—just honest-to-god basics. Breathing. Footwork. Drawing and cutting in a single stroke. If he ever wanted to stand tall among the chaos of what was to come, his body had to move before his cursed energy ever did.

And oddly enough, he wasn't doing it alone.

"Ren!" Panda waved a massive paw from the edge of the sparring grounds. "You're late for warm-up again."

Ren jogged over, wiping sweat from his brow. "I was not late. I was stretching."

"Lying is a sin," Panda declared solemnly.

"Wouldn't know," Ren muttered, "I'm not the one born in a temple."

"Technically, I wasn't born—"

"Don't start." Ren smiled despite himself.

Panda was always somewhere between annoying older brother and dependable tank. Inumaki, on the other hand, was more like a cryptic little oracle who Ren was still deciphering. Maki? A blade with a heartbeat. Sharp, proud, and clearly not fond of his existence—yet also never cruel about it.

Their dynamic had taken time. But now, it almost felt like a real school.

Inumaki sat cross-legged nearby, sipping some weird juice box Ren had never seen sold anywhere. He looked up as Ren approached and gave his signature nod.

"Salmon."

Ren blinked. "Good morning to you too."

Maki walked past, already dressed in her training gear and carrying two bō staves across her back. "If you're late again, you spar with me. No cursed energy."

"That sounds illegal," Ren said.

"It is," Panda stage-whispered. "But no one cares."

The four of them drifted into familiar routine—light training, then a few technique drills. Ren didn't show off. He couldn't afford to. His Red Circuit was a miracle, but not a fix-all. So he kept pace, matched movement, and learned.

Between sets, they sprawled across the grass.

"You ever think this place is too quiet?" Ren asked aloud, staring at the sky.

Panda raised a brow. "What? Do you want chaos?"

"Not chaos," Ren said. "Just… I don't know. I get nervous when things go too well."

"Hmm," Panda grunted. "Sounds like trauma."

"Tuna Mayo," Inumaki added supportively.

Maki wiped sweat from her neck with a towel. "That's just called being a sorcerer."

Ren nodded slowly and thinks 'Still. It just feels too calm. Something's bound to go wrong soon. Isn't it?'

Later that day, Ren walked into the classroom to find the tall, white-haired nuisance known as Satoru Gojo striking a ridiculous pose—leaning backwards across two chairs, one foot on the desk, sunglasses glittering under the fan light.

"Hey, liar," Ren said dryly, dropping his bag. "You still haven't sparred with me. What happened to that?"

Gojo didn't even blink. "Mmm? Ohhh, that request? See, you said it was a request. Not a promise. Big difference. Anyway! Class dismissed! Shoo, shoo, little birds, fly free!"

He waved them off like a magician revealing an empty hat.

"You're the worst," Ren muttered under his breath.

Behind him, the others were already filing out. Maki shook her head. Inumaki gave an exaggerated shrug. Panda, grinning like always, elbowed Ren in the side.

"Wait—you wanted to spar with Gojo-Sensei?"

"Yeah," Ren said. "Back when we first met, we had a little skirmish. I want to see how much I've improved since then."

"He actually agreed to it?" Panda blinked.

"Exactly once," Ren sighed. "Which is why you have to make him promise something. Otherwise he'll just wriggle out of it."

"Tuna," Inumaki added with knowing gravity.

They stepped outside into the fresh afternoon air. The sky had deepened into rich blue. Cicadas buzzed somewhere distant. It should have felt peaceful.

But Ren's gut was already tight.

'Something's off.'

It hit them in a sudden rush of sound and shadow.

FOOOOOWOOSH!

The sky darkened—not from clouds, but from the wingbeats of a colossal bird curse. Its form blotted out the sun, feathers like ink and wind howling beneath it. The thing was the size of a damn bus, maybe bigger, its talons scraping wind currents as it descended straight toward the school.

Everyone froze.

"What the hell?" Panda said, taking a step back. "I've never seen a curse like that."

"Intruder," Maki muttered, her eyes already narrowing. "Right?"

"Salted Fish Roe," Inumaki confirmed.

Ren didn't move. He didn't even blink.

Because the moment he saw the man standing atop the bird's back—long black hair, tied loosely, Buddhist robes fluttering in the wind—his mind erupted.

Geto Suguru.

'What? So soon?? No way. If I'm not wrong, he should come at least three weeks later from today… He came early!! The plot's changed. Or the timeline I made up is wrong.'

His heart was hammering now, not from fear—but cold, analytical dread.

He took one slow step in front of the others.

I have to see what's changed.

The bird let out a shrill screech and opened its beak wide—and from within the shadows of its maw, three figures dropped out like toys from a claw machine.

The first to land was a girl with slick black hair and a smartphone in hand. She glanced around with clear disgust.

"Ugh. This place is so dated. Are we sure this is the right dump?"

Next came another girl, younger, with a messy ponytail and a glassy stare. She cradled a creepy, stitched-up doll to her chest and didn't even look at anyone. But she spoke, quietly:

"Don't say that. It's rude. They were alive once too, you know."

And finally, with a loud thud, a shirtless man landed on the grass with a flex of his arms—grinning wide, sharp teeth exposed.

"Well, this should be fun."

The air had turned to glass. Heavy. Pressurized.

Ren narrowed his eyes...

He wasn't ready for this.

But it didn't matter anymore.

Because they were here.

To be continued…