Jujutsu kaisen: King of Seven Shikigami

Inside Principal Masamichi Yaga's Office – Tokyo Jujutsu High

The room was filled with the scent of aged wood and paper documents. A dim yellow glow radiated from the ceiling lamp, casting long shadows in the quiet corners. Behind the heavy wooden desk sat Masamichi Yaga—calm, but vigilant. In front of him stood two figures: Gojo Satoru, wearing his signature dark glasses, and Tora, a young student whose gaze seemed darker than usual.

Without a word, Tora stepped forward. He reached into the pocket of his black jacket and handed a folded piece of paper to Gojo.

"A week from now," Tora said quietly, his tone heavy, "my brother told me to bring you to this location."

Gojo took the paper without looking away. Yaga raised an eyebrow slightly as Tora continued, his voice beginning to tremble.

"I'm almost certain... he intends to resurrect a former Ten Shadows user. To kill you."

Silence fell. The only sound was the ticking of the wall clock—slow and piercing. Yaga exhaled a short breath. His face remained unreadable, but his eyes sharpened.

"There's no need to wait until the ritual is complete," he said firmly. "As soon as they arrive at the site—capture them. Stop everything before it starts."

Gojo, who had been standing casually, finally took a seat with exaggerated laziness. He leaned back in the chair and propped his feet on Yaga's desk without an ounce of respect. The paper in his hand he tossed aside like it was a party invitation.

"Huh... it's fine," he muttered. "Let them bring that ancient sorcerer back first. Might actually be fun."

Yaga's brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing with concern.

"Satoru. Don't be reckless."

Gojo turned his head slightly. A faint smile appeared on his face—but it wasn't a smile of joy. It was the tired smirk of someone who had long since grown weary of the world.

"Sensei..." he said with a tone like a child eager to show off a new toy, "I want to try out my new technique—"

"Enough," Yaga cut in sharply. His voice was stern, laden with warning. "Satoru. We need to be cautious."

Tora glanced between them, his eyes settling on Gojo. For a moment, he saw something deeper—something hidden behind those black lenses. A hollow look.

The loss of Riko Amanai. The loss of direction. Friendships that had started to fray. There were no curses left that could excite him. Every battle had begun to feel like a chore. Even Domain Expansions and Reversed Cursed Techniques were now just part of a routine—no longer a challenge.

The room was silent once more, until Gojo finally spoke.

"No need to be cautious," he said softly, but with quiet certainty.

He lifted his chin slightly, that same tired smile returning.

"After all, I… am the strongest."

Yaga stared at Gojo without blinking. It wasn't the look of a teacher toward his student, but of a man who had seen the consequences of arrogance… and the wounds that never heal.

The ticking of the clock resumed. Tick... tick... tick...

Yaga leaned back slightly in his chair. His hands clenched on the desk, but his voice remained calm—so calm it somehow made the room feel heavier.

"Satoru…"

He said the name without a hint of jest, without the warmth he often carried as the school's headmaster.

"…you are the strongest. But that's exactly why you're the loneliest."

Gojo didn't respond immediately. He still sat with his usual composure, but his fingers hanging off the side of the chair slowly curled into a fist.

"Everyone who wants to test your strength will aim for the people around you first. And when that happens… your power won't be enough to save them all."

Tora lowered his head, eyes cast toward the floor. Yaga's words cut through like glass—quietly, but painfully. Chipping away at the wall of composure Gojo always wore.

Yaga continued, his tone now gentler, but filled with the resolve of a father who still cared.

"Don't wait for the world to prove to you that power alone isn't enough."

He stood from his chair, his tall figure rising behind the wooden desk.

"If you truly are the strongest... then be the wisest. Not the most reckless."

Gojo remained silent. But his smile slowly faded.

Tora raised his eyes and looked at Gojo. For a brief moment, the room was no longer filled with talk of curses or dark rituals... but with something far more human—a quiet, unspoken fear of losing one another again.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway outside. Not one or two—but many. Heavy, fast, decisive. The thump of shoes against the old wooden floor was a clear signal: the time for private words was over.

Yaga glanced at the door, then promptly ended the moment.

"All right," he said with low authority. "That's enough for now."

Gojo leaned back again in his chair, hiding any trace of emotion behind his dark lenses. Tora stood tall, still digesting Yaga's words.

The door swung open with purpose.

Suguru Geto entered first, clad in his usual black robe, his hair tied neatly behind his head. Shoko Ieiri followed with calm steps, hands tucked into the pockets of her white medical coat. Two younger figures came in after—Kento Nanami, clean-cut and serious, and Yu Haibara, energetic and slightly rushed, a cheerful smile forming on his face as he saw the room already full.

But no one returned the smile.

Yaga took control again.

"Let's discuss the capture of Granny Ogami," he said as he sat back down and began arranging a stack of documents on his desk. His voice was calm, but urgency pulsed beneath it.

Geto removed a small bag from his shoulder and placed it on the side table. Shoko leaned her back against the wall, arms crossed, eyes watching everyone silently. Nanami gave a small nod and took position to Tora's right. Yu Haibara walked up to Gojo and said brightly:

"Whoa, Sensei, you started without us?"

Gojo gave a faint smile but didn't respond. The smile was empty. His mind was still elsewhere—echoing with Yaga's words. Still thinking about what it really meant to be "the strongest"… and the loneliness that came with it.

Yaga unfolded a large map on the desk, pointing to a region marked in red ink.

"Based on the latest intel, she relocates every three days. But there's a pattern. If we move quickly, we can intercept her before the ritual begins."

All eyes focused on the mission. The earlier conversation vanished beneath strategies, logistics, and the names of the curses they'd likely face. But inside each of them—especially Gojo and Tora—something unresolved still lingered. Something deeper than a mission.

And outside that quiet room… time kept moving.

Author's Note:

Still waiting for season three... Maki slaughtering the Zenin clan.