Shibuya Station - B5F
Yuji Itadori sprinted through the eerily quiet station tunnels. His goal: reach Satoru Gojo, or more accurately, reach the place where Gojo was now sealed. He'd heard from Mechamaru that he needed to get the Prison Realm cube or at least stall whoever was guarding it until help arrived. Others were handling the cursed spirits scattered around; this was his job.
'Hope this is the right way,' Yuji thought, his footsteps echoing in the empty passages. He finally burst onto what looked like the main platform deep underground.
He scanned the area, but it was strangely deserted, though signs of a massive fight – dust, debris, and cracked walls – were everywhere. 'There's… nobody here!' This wasn't what he expected at all. 'Weren't tons of people supposed to be trapped down here?!'
Pushing his confusion aside, Yuji spotted the elevator shaft and didn't hesitate. He simply leaped down, landing heavily on the floor below.
He stopped dead in his tracks. Standing directly in front of him was a man he didn't recognize, but Yuji instantly knew he wasn't an ally. The man's face twitched the moment he saw Yuji, like he'd been waiting specifically for him. Pure, cold anger was clear in his eyes and the tense set of his jaw.
The man had dark hair pulled back in two distinct sections, and a strange tattoo marked the bridge of his nose. He looked utterly disgusted just seeing Yuji.
Without wasting a single second, the man clapped his hands together. Blood immediately flowed from his palms, gathering and twisting in the air before him. It quickly solidified into a sharp, crimson arrow that shot forward, aimed straight at Yuji's chest.
Yuji reacted on instinct, throwing his arms up to block. The blood arrow hit with piercing force, starting to drill through his hands. Realizing how dangerous it was, Yuji twisted his body hard to the left, pulling his arms away just as the arrow would have gone clean through.
"GRAH!!" Yuji cried out as searing pain shot up his arm. But he didn't have time to recover. His opponent, Choso, immediately manipulated the blood arrow, making it curve and follow Yuji's dodge. Yuji pushed off the ground, closing the distance with surprising speed, and landed a solid kick square in Choso's stomach.
Choso stumbled back slightly from the force of the blow. Yuji wasn't unharmed, though. The cut on his right arm was deep, pain making it hard to move properly. Still, he didn't back down, bracing himself for the next attack.
But before the fight could continue, Choso lowered his hands slightly. "There's something… I need to ask you," he said, his voice low and intense. "My younger brothers… did they leave any final words?"
"Younger brothers…?" Yuji repeated, completely confused. He had no idea who this guy was talking about.
"Tch!" Choso clicked his tongue, his disgust deepening. To him, Yuji pretending not to know was just another insult to his brothers' memory. "The two you killed," Choso clarified coldly.
Recognition dawned on Yuji's face. He remembered the fight with the two intelligent Cursed Womb: Death Paintings. He recalled one of them calling the other "brother."
"Them…" Yuji hesitated, then answered honestly. "Not really. But… they did cry."
Hearing this, Choso's expression didn't change much, but the anger in his eyes flared, turning them bloodshot. Regret and fury warred within him. In his mind, he saw his two younger brothers, Eso and Kechizu, smiling at him one last time. 'Eso… Kechizu! Watch closely,' he thought fiercely.
THIS IS YOUR OLDER BROTHER
Red blood surged out from behind Choso, swirling and taking the menacing shape of a vengeful spirit, its gaze fixed solely on Yuji.
Yuji immediately dropped back into his fighting stance, eyes locked on Choso, ready for the real battle to begin.
….
Information. It's what most people crave when making plans, the key to achieving their goals. Madara was different.
Sure, he had meticulously planned his own resurrection, forced by the weakness of old age to ensure his ultimate goal – the Eye of the Moon plan – could still be reached.
But back in his prime? His name and overwhelming power were often plan enough. Of course, there was one man who could match him, Hashirama Senju, the one who ultimately defeated him.
But even then, Madara had been prepared, setting his Sharingan's forbidden technique, Izanagi, to activate after his death, rewriting reality just enough to bring himself back. Planning was necessary, but raw power was his true path.
Now, however, he was in an unknown land, facing unknown powers. Information was crucial again.
….
Watching the two figures clash below, Madara remained hidden, a silent observer near the battle. He didn't interfere, simply analyzed.
The black-haired one using blood techniques… Madara could see the raw anger in his movements, the undisguised killing intent aimed solely at the pink-haired boy. This wasn't just someone guarding a post; this was personal.
The pink-haired kid, Yuji, was different. Madara couldn't sense any chakra from him, just as expected in this strange world.
Yet, he was trading blows with the blood-user, surviving attacks that should tear a normal human apart.
'So, he's not a normal human,' Madara concluded logically. 'Or perhaps this world simply runs on a completely different power system, one I can't sense, just like how shinobi use chakra for feats impossible for ordinary folk.'
He recalled his earlier fight. Getting blasted away by the volcano-headed curse, Jogo. The weaker curses that attacked him afterwards – his Susanoo sword had sliced them cleanly in half, causing pain, yes, but they hadn't seemed truly damaged or destroyed.
They reacted, they felt it, but they didn't die from the physical trauma and even stopped chasing him.
'Just like with Jogo and the others,' Madara realized. 'My physical attacks, even the Susanoo, hurt them, make them feel pain, but don't seem to be enough to kill them outright.'
A new understanding dawned.
'It's likely their own unique power system is needed to truly finish them off. The power that pink-haired kid and those others in black uniforms outside are probably using.'
….
A/N: How was it? Do tell me by commenting.
Good Night 💤