The lingering scent of grilled beef and white rice still hung heavy in the traditional break room, but the atmosphere had shifted into something far more intimate. Satoru Gojo remained leaning back in his wooden chair, his single exposed sapphire eye locked tightly onto the white cloth covering Oden's face. The silence stretched between them for a long moment before Gojo spoke again, his voice dropping into a quiet, serious register.
"Tell me, Oden," Gojo murmured, using the youth's formal birth name to signify the absolute gravity of the subject. "Now that your strength is accelerating at this kind of pace, how do you actually feel about your parents?"
Oden paused, his hand hovering over an empty ceramic platter. He shifted his weight, leaning his back against the wall as he processed the question. There was no sudden flash of anger on his face, nor was there any visible trace of sorrow. His expression remained entirely flat, perfectly matching the absolute calm of his cursed energy.
"To be completely honest with you, Gojo-sensei, I don't really feel anything at all," Oden replied, his voice entirely steady. "I neither love them nor do I hate them. When they made the decision to abandon me all those years ago, I was far too young to comprehend what was happening. I don't possess a single active memory of their faces, their voices, or the way they treated me. Without those memories, there is simply no foundation for me to build any kind of emotional attachment. To me, they are just two names written on an official clan registry document. They are complete strangers."
Gojo slowly lowered his blindfold back over his eye, a faint, understanding nod passing through his frame. "Yeah, that makes perfect sense. It is a completely logical take, and honestly, it is probably the healthiest way for you to look at it." Gojo paused, tilting his head slightly toward the window. "But the reality is that they do want to meet you, Oden. They have been making formal inquiries through the school channels for weeks now. So, what about it? How do you want to handle them?"
Oden let out a short, quiet sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I really have absolutely no personal desire or want to meet them, Gojo-sensei. My life is perfectly fine exactly the way it is right now. But... if you think it is necessary for my future development, or if it is something you personally want me to do to clear up the political board, then I don't mind going. I can tolerate a single meeting."
Gojo's signature, brilliant grin instantly returned to his face, the heavy serious pressure vanishing as he clapped his hands together with complete delight. "Alright! That settles it! I will go ahead and set up the formal arrangements for this coming weekend. Oh, and here is a little fun fact for you to chew on, Oden. Based on the ancestral land registry and the historical wealth of the Uzumaki clan holdings. Once you officially claim your birthright... you might actually end up being significantly richer than me. Think about all the premium meat you can buy with that kind of capital!"
Oden blinked behind his blindfold, a look of genuine surprise crossing his face before he let out a short, amused chuckle. "Richer than the head of the Gojo clan? Now that is actually an interesting piece of information."
Later that evening, within the polished, high-security office of the Gojo clan townhouse in downtown Tokyo, Gojo sat at a massive mahogany desk, a sleek black smartphone pressed tightly against his ear. The line rang three times before a deep, incredibly firm, and gravelly voice answered from the other side.
"Satoru," the old voice rumbled, carrying the immense weight of an experienced clan authority. "I assume you are calling because the curtain has finally fallen on the mountain."
"You guessed it, Makoto-san," Gojo said, his tone casual as he spun his expensive office chair around to face the night skyline. "The entire Kyoto execution plot was a complete and utter failure, just like I predicted. Your grandson handled himself beautifully in the trenches. And because I am such an incredible teacher, I managed to have a very productive little chat with him after the dust settled. He has officially agreed to visit the estate. He will be coming down this coming weekend."
On the other side of the line, inside the grand master study of the traditional Uzumaki estate, Uzumaki Makoto slowly lowered his pipe. His weathered, stern face remained rigid, but a faint, unmistakable flicker of profound relief passed through his old eyes. "I see. You have done well, Satoru. The Uzumaki clan appreciates your mediation in this matter."
"Make sure you have the good tea ready," Gojo chuckled before ending the call.
Makoto set the smartphone down on the low wooden table, his gaze shifting across the wide, tatami-matted room. Standing near the traditional sliding screen doors was his ddaughter-in-law, Uzumaki Tamaki. Her long, dark hair was tied back loosely, and her hands were trembling slightly as she carefully poured steaming green tea into a delicate ceramic cup from an iron kettle. She had been standing there in absolute, breathless silence since the moment the phone had started ringing.
Makoto looked at his daughter, his stern demeanor softening by a fraction of an inch. "That was Satoru Gojo. He managed to successfully convince Oden to come here. Our boy is going to visit the estate this coming weekend."
The announcement struck Tamaki like a physical wave. Her eyes widened in absolute, overwhelming joy, a soft gasp escaping her lips. In her sudden excitement, her grip completely slipped from the handle of the iron kettle, accidentally knocking the delicate ceramic cup over. The hot green tea spilled violently across the polished wooden tray, pools of dark liquid dripping onto the edge of the tatami mats.
"Oh! Oh, modern heavens!" Tamaki cried out, her voice shaking with an intense mixture of panic and ecstatic energy. She immediately dropped to her knees, frantically grabbing a cloth to wipe up the spilled liquid, her movements completely scattered. "He is actually coming? Our Yuzuki is coming here? I... I have so many things I need to prepare! The guest pavilion needs to be completely cleaned from top to bottom! We need to secure the finest chefs from the capital! What kind of food does he even enjoy? What if he hates the traditional robes I ordered for him? I have to go speak with the servants right now!"
"Tamaki! Calm yourself this instant," Makoto commanded, his deep voice echoing firmly through the quiet study. He raised a hand, forcing his daughter to halt her frantic movements. "Look at yourself. You are completely unraveled. The boy is not arriving within the hour. He is only coming on the weekend. We have some days to ensure the estate is perfectly presentable. Take a deep breath."
Tamaki paused, the cleaning cloth clutched tightly against her chest as she slowly looked up at her father. A brilliant, tearful smile spread across her face, her eyes shining with a warmth that had been missing from her expression for years. She drew a long, ragged breath, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Yes... yes, you are right, Father. I am sorry. It is just... I have waited so many years for this day. I simply cannot wait to finally see my boy again."
---
Two days later, the morning sun broke brightly over the central courtyard of Tokyo Jujutsu High. The heavy tension of the previous days had completely evaporated, replaced by the familiar, comforting sounds of the second-year students gathered near the training steps.
A tall, slender figure walking with a calm, humble posture emerged from the main walkway. Yuta Okkotsu had officially returned from his long-distance mission. his white uniform pristine and his signature katana case slung securely across his shoulder. The moment his dark eyes locked onto his classmates, a warm, bright smile broke across his face.
"Hey, everyone! I'm back," Yuta called out, waving his hand as he hurried down the stone steps toward them.
Maki, Panda, Inumaki, and Oden all turned around, their expressions instantly brightening as they welcomed their classmate back into the fold. Within minutes, the group settled onto the wooden benches, and Maki began walking Yuta through the absolute madness that had transpired during the Sister School Exchange Event. She described the pitch-black external barrier, the sudden appearance of the resurrected historical titan Ryu Ishigori, Todo's chaotic usage of Boogie Woogie.
As the story concluded, Yuta's smile completely vanished, replaced by a look of deep, profound dejection. He looked down at his own palms, his shoulders slumping significantly as a heavy wave of guilt washed over his features. "I... I can't believe I wasn't here," Yuta muttered, his voice dripping with genuine sadness. "A special grade level threat managed to completely infiltrate the school boundaries specifically to target one of our own, and I was miles away on a routine deployment. I should have been here to fight alongside you guys. If something terrible had happened... if any of you had been seriously hurt because I wasn't here to help..."
Oden let out a loud, dramatic groan, leaning back against the wooden bench as he tossed a small pebble into the air. "Oh, look at him. The great special grade Okkotsu is getting all sensitive and dramatic again. Don't lose sleep over it, Yuta. We managed to survive just fine without you holding our hands through the trenches. Though, to be perfectly honest, you really missed a spectacular show. Watching that giant old-timer get his entire midsection deleted by Gojo-sensei's Red was easily the highlight of my entire semester."
Maki's hand shot out with lightning velocity, her knuckles coming down in a swift, heavy smack directly against the side of Oden's head. "Shut your mouth, Oden!" Maki scolded fiercely, her sharp eyes glaring at him with complete irritation. "Stop teasing him when he is being genuinely worried about your safety! Unlike you, Yuta actually possesses a normal, functioning sense of empathy for his friends!"
"Ouch! Why am I always the one getting hit around here?" Oden complained, rubbing the side of his head with a dramatic scowl while Panda and Inumaki chuckled quietly in the background.
Eventually, the group began to scatter toward their respective afternoon duties, leaving Maki and Oden walking slowly down the long, covered wooden corridor leading toward the dormitories. The ambient sounds of the cicadas chirping in the cedar trees filled the quiet space between them.
Maki kept her hands dug into her uniform pockets, her gaze fixed entirely on the wooden floorboards as they walked. "So... tomorrow is the day," she said softly, breaking the silence without looking at him. "Tomorrow morning you are officially heading out to confront your biological family. Tell me the truth, Oden. Are you actually ready for this?"
Oden shrugged his shoulders, his posture remaining completely relaxed beneath his dark hoodie. "I don't even know how someone is supposed to prepare for something like that, Maki. To be perfectly honest, the only real family I recognize in this world is my adoptive father and my sister back in Canada, and Miguel. Those are the people who actually raised me and stayed by my side. I don't know these Uzumaki people at all. The only reason I am even putting myself through this hassle tomorrow is because Gojo-sensei explicitly asked me to go."
Maki stopped walking, turning her body to face him directly under the shade of the corridor. She crossed her arms over her chest, her usual tough, aggressive expression softening into something deeply serious and rare.
"Look... I know I am probably the absolute last person in the world who should be giving anyone advice on family matters," Maki said quietly, her voice tightening slightly as the thoughts of her own toxic experiences within the Zenin clan flashed through her mind. "You know exactly how completely messed up my situation is with my family. I hate those bastards with everything I have. But... from what Gojo told us, the Uzumaki clan isn't like the Zenins. All I am saying is... you should go there tomorrow with an open mind. Don't let your guard down, obviously, but at least sit down at the table and try to hear out what they have to say before you make a final judgment. Can you do that for me?"
Oden looked down at her, blinking behind his white cloth blindfold. He took in her serious expression, realizing the immense personal weight it took for her to offer that kind of advice. A soft, genuine smile broke across his lips, and he nodded casually. "Sure. Why not. I can do that, Maki."
---
Late that night, within the massive, state-of-the-art traditional kitchen of the main Uzumaki estate, the atmosphere was nothing short of absolute, unmitigated chaos.
The room was filled with the heavy steam of boiling stocks and the frantic clatter of expensive copper cookware. Uzumaki Tamaki was marching up and down the central aisle like a military general, her face completely flushed with stress as she pointed a wooden spoon at the various chefs and kitchen servants.
"No, no, no! That traditional savory stew needs far more time to simmer properly!" Tamaki shouted, her voice tight with immense anxiety as she micromanaged every single station. "He is a growing boy! He has been training at a jujutsu academy, which means his metabolism requires substantial, massive portions to maintain his reserves! Did we secure the absolute highest grade of wagyu beef from the northern distributors? What about the western-style dishes? We need to have a complete secondary menu prepared just in case he prefers western food over traditional Japanese cuisine! Move faster, everyone! We only have one night left to make everything absolutely flawless!"
The kitchen staff scrambled frantically under her intense, bossy commands, the stress in the room reaching a boiling point.
Suddenly, the heavy wooden doors of the kitchen slid open, and a tall, broad-shouldered man with a calm, gentle expression walked into the room. Uzumaki Yusuke, Tamaki's husband and the father of Oden, took in the chaotic sight with a soft, sympathetic sigh. He walked calmly down the central aisle, completely ignoring the frantic movements of the staff, and stepped up right behind his wife.
Yusuke placed his large, warm hands firmly onto Tamaki's trembling shoulders, gently squeezing them to arrest her movement. "Tamaki, breathe," he said softly, his deep, soothing voice acting like a cooling anchor against her frantic energy. "You need to relax. You are going to run the entire staff into the ground before the sun even rises."
Tamaki spun around to face him, her eyes wide and wide with absolute panic. "How can I possibly relax, Yusuke? Our son is coming home tomorrow! The boy we haven't seen since he was an infant! Tell me, did you personally prepare every single item on the checklist I gave you this morning?"
Yusuke offered a warm, incredibly patient smile, nodding his head slowly to reassure her. "Yes, my love. I handled every single item on your list personally. The guest rooms are immaculate, the security paths are completely clear, and the robes have been set out. Everything is completely ready for his arrival. Now, come with me."
Without waiting for her to argue, Yusuke slipped his arm around her waist, gently but firmly dragging her away from the kitchen counters and toward the exit doors. "You need to sleep, Tamaki. If you want to meet your son tomorrow, you need to be in top physical shape and fully rested. You won't make a good impression on him if you collapse from sheer exhaustion the moment he steps through the front gates."
Tamaki looked up at her husband's calm, reassuring face, the frantic, bossy energy finally draining out of her frame as a heavy wave of fatigue took its place. She let out a long, defeated sigh, her shoulders slumping as she reluctantly nodded her head. "Alright... alright, you are right, Yusuke. I will go to sleep. Let us go."
---
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