Toji took the hit.
Not unscathed—not this time.
Blood sprayed from his mouth as he was catapulted backward, his body carving a ragged trench through the forest floor before smashing into a jagged rock formation. The impact sent a cascade of stone and debris into the air with a thunderous roar.
A breathless silence followed.
Then—the rubble shifted.
Toji rose. Slowly.
His side was torn open, a deep gash leaking blood down his leg. His left arm hung limp, shoulder twisted from its socket. But his expression? Calm. Focused. Eyes locked on Naoya with something dangerously close to respect.
"Hah." He spat a thick glob of red onto the dirt. "So you can hit hard."
Naoya didn't answer. He just stood there, shoulders rising and falling with each breath, lips curled into a crooked grin.
Then—
"Ahh..."
A soft, shaky sound escaped him.
His eyes widened, glassy with something raw and overwhelming—like ecstasy.
It wasn't pleasure.
It was realization.
Vindication.
He could still remember it vividly:
A younger Naoya,in the corridors of the Zenin estate, watching Toji pass by like a phantom—untouchable, unbothered, utterly dominant. The other clan members whispered his name with fear or contempt, but Naoya had just stared in silent awe.
Toji didn't feel human that day.
He felt like a wall.
Something absolute.
Something no Zenin could ever overcome.
And now—
That wall was cracked.
Bleeding.
Breathing hard.
And looking at him with caution.
Naoya exhaled sharply through his nose, the twisted grin never leaving his face. "Heh… I really did it."
In this cursed world of monsters this moment was pure.
A high no drug could ever match.
Not victory. Not survival.
But proof.
Proof that he had clawed his way out and stood eye-to-eye with a man who once made him feel like a speck.
Toji rotated his shoulder, bones grinding as he snapped the dislocated joint back into place with a grunt. His gaze never left Naoya.
"You look like you're enjoying this a little too much," he muttered.
Naoya licked blood off his lip and chuckled. "You have no idea."
Then, without another word, they lunged again—
BOOM.
Naoya blitzed forward,His fist rocketed toward Toji's jaw—
—only for Toji to lean back, letting the strike whistle past his face by a hair's breadth.
Toji's counter was merciless—a brutal uppercut that lifted Naoya off his feet. But Naoya twisted midair, kicking off Toji's forearm to flip backward and land in a crouch.
"Frame Fracture"
The ground beneath Toji erupted, cursed energy detonating in a precise blast. Toji crossed his arms, taking the hit head-on—
—and charged through the smoke, his katana flashing.
Naoya barely dodged, the blade slicing through his sleeve and grazing flesh. He hissed but didn't retreat. InsteadNaoya's fingers dug into Toji's wound, Projection Sorcery locking the sorcerer killer in place for one perfect second.
A second was all he needed.
His other fist pulled back, cursed energy condensing into a swirling vortex of destruction. The air itself warped, reality bending around his knuckles as his grin stretched too wide, too wild.
"This—"
The first spark flickered—black.
"—is TRULY my Jujutsu Kaisen!"
Then—
BLACK FLASH!
The impact detonated in a burst of void-black lightning, spiderwebbing across Toji's frozen form. The shockwave ripped through the battlefield, kicking up dust and debris in a radial blast.
CRACK! CRACK!
Toji's animated frame fractured, fissures spreading like broken glass across his body.
The moment stretched, infinite and euphoric. Naoya's veins burned with the high of cursed perfection, his laughter bubbling up uncontrollably.
Then—
SNAP.
The frame shattered.
Toji's body erupted backward, hurtling through the air like a cannonball before slamming into the distant cliffside.
Naoya stood amidst the devastation, his fist still smoking, his arm numb and ruined, his knuckles ground to pulp.
And yet—
He had never felt more alive.
The Zone.
Time slowed. Sound muted. His vision sharpened to a razor's edge. Every cell in his body hummed with cursed energy, every nerve alight with perfect, euphoric clarity.
He exhaled.
And then—
"Hah… hahaha—!"
His laughter ripped from his throat, raw and unhinged. Blood dripped from his lips, his teeth stained crimson. His body was breaking.
He didn't care.
Because in this moment—
He was limitless.
His laughter still hung in the air when the world snapped back into focus.
SPLASH!
A geyser of blood erupted as Naoya's leg separated at the knee, severed clean by a whip-fast chain that had lashed out from the settling dust. Before he could even register the pain, more chains exploded from the earth—
—coiling around his arms, his torso, his throat—
—yanking him down into the dirt like a puppet with its strings cut.
Naoya choked, his Zone-shattered focus crumbling as the chains tightened, biting deep into flesh. His remaining knee hit the ground hard.
From the smoke, a shadow lurched forward.
Toji Fushiguro.
He seems heavely damaged but it seems that his injuries slowly regenerating.
And now—
—he smiled.
"Time's up, brat."
The chain around Naoya's throat yanked upward, forcing him to meet Toji's gaze.
The Soul Split Katana glinted in the sun.
Naoya's Binding Vow flickered out. His cursed energy drained. His body betrayed him.
And yet—
"Hah."
Naoya laughed, calm as a man sipping tea.
"This is really bad."
No panic. No desperation. Just amusement, as if his sudden mutilation and impending death were nothing more than a mild inconvenience.
Toji's grin widened—and without another word, he plunged the katana straight into Naoya's heart.
Clean. Merciless.
No last words. No dramatic farewell.
Just silence.
A beat passed, then Toji blinked, tilting his head.
"…What if that old man refuses to buy my son after I killed his?"
He scratched his head, genuinely puzzled for a moment.
"…Eh, whatever. I'll find another buyer."
With that, he turned away, blood still dripping from the edge of his blade, and walked toward his next destination.
…
Deep beneath Jujutsu High, far below the surface—
The fake Riko had just said her tearful goodbye to Kuroi, performing her role flawlessly. Now, she stood alongside Geto in front of a massive tree wrapped in thick, sacred ropes. The ancient air was heavy with cursed energy.
Geto's voice echoed softly through the cavernous chamber.
"We're now in Tengen-sama's territory. This place is the foundation of Japan's key barriers—the main hall of the Tomb of the Star. Once you descend the stairs, pass through the gate, and reach the base of the great tree…"
He paused, his eyes fixed on the glowing structure ahead.
"…you'll be inside a special barrier, one separate from the one surrounding Jujutsu High," he continued.
"Only those invited can enter. Tengen-sama will protect you until the assimilation."
The fake Riko's heart skipped a beat.
"What the hell…? How is the script Naoya gave me this accurate?" she thought, stunned.
"He wrote these exact lines… It's like he saw the future."
She narrowed her eyes slightly.
"Is this some prank between them? No, that doesn't make sense…"
Then—
"That—or we can turn back around and go home with Kuroi-san."
Her eyes widened in disbelief.
"That—or we can turn back around and go home with Kuroi-san…"
She had thought it—and Geto said it aloud. Word for word.
"This is insane…" she thought, doing her best to act shocked in response.
"Huh?" she said, feigning surprise.
Geto turned to her, his tone softening.
"When our teacher told us about this mission, he referred to the assimilation as 'erasing.' He wanted us to understand the weight of this sin. He may be a muscle-brained idiot, but he does things in roundabout ways…"
He smiled gently, eyes warm despite the gravity of the moment.
"The three of us—Satoru, Naoya, and I—talked about this before we even met you. Naoya acted like he didn't care about your death, but I'm sure he said that just to stay in character."
The fake Riko blinked, momentarily thrown off.
"That part wasn't in the script… caring about someone's death? From Naoya? I doubt it," she thought skeptically. "But I need to stay in character."
Geto stepped forward slightly, his voice calm but unwavering.
"We are the strongest."
"No matter what decision you make… we'll guarantee your future."
"Oh? How sweet of you guys." The fake Riko smiled inwardly, then began her final scene.
"I've… always been special since the day I was born…"
She paused, building up the emotion with expert timing. Her voice began to tremble, and her eyes welled with tears.
"But… but honestly, I want to be with everyone longer! I want to go to all kinds of places! I want to do all kinds of things… and more!"
She began to sob dramatically, cheeks flushed with "emotion." It was a masterclass in acting.
Geto smiled gently and raised his hand, extending it toward her.
"Let's go home, Riko-chan."
She wiped away her fake tears, beaming up at him with a pink blush of gratitude.
"…Hmm."
Then—
BANG.
A gunshot cracked through the silence like a divine curse.
The fake Riko's head snapped back violently. A perfect crimson rose bloomed between her eyes for one beautiful, grotesque moment before she collapsed—lifeless before her body hit the ground.
Geto's hands froze mid-air, eyes wide in disbelief.
"Riko-chan…?"
His voice came out hollow, fragile. He took a step forward—but it was too late. The light in her eyes was gone.
From beyond the haze of gun smoke, a figure emerged casually, as if he were walking out of a convenience store.
Toji Fushiguro.
He lowered the smoking handgun without urgency, slinging it lazily by his side. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Okay," he said flatly, glancing at the mess he'd made without remorse. "Job's done."
He looked at Geto like this was just another Tuesday.
"I can go home now."