Chapter 34 – Meeting at the Exchange Event
Deep within lush, emerald mountains, the group made their way slowly along a winding trail. A mountain stream murmured nearby, birds chirping overhead in bright, scattered bursts.
"So this is Tokyo?" Ren muttered, shading his eyes with one hand as he surveyed the scenery. "The so-called international metropolis?"
"Tokyo is huge. It's not just skyscrapers and neon lights," Utahime Iori replied helplessly. "There are quiet, remote places like this on the outskirts."
"…Right." Ren dropped his hand with a defeated sigh.
That morning, they had flown from Kyoto to Tokyo. The moment he heard the exchange event would be held in Tokyo, he'd been thrilled. In his imagination, it meant glittering cityscapes, towering buildings, endless shopping districts.
He had stuffed his meager savings into his suitcase, fully prepared for reckless spending—shopping sprees, dazzling storefronts, sensory overload.
Instead, the moment they landed, they were herded onto a bus. After hours of winding roads thick with the smell of gasoline, rather than stopping in some bustling urban center, they arrived in front of… a mountain forest.
To say he was disappointed would be an understatement.
"Your reaction's normal," Kasumi Miwa said with a stifled laugh at his side. "I thought the same thing my first time here."
"First time?"
"At the principals' meeting. I went along as an attendant."
"You went too?" Ren frowned. "How come I didn't?"
A clanking sound came from beside him as Mechamaru trudged past, mechanical voice chiming in.
"I didn't either."
"That's because both of you were on missions at the time," Utahime said, rubbing her forehead. "And it was just a routine meeting. Please stop sounding like children who didn't get candy."
Ren looked up at the endless mountain path curling through the foothills and sighed again. With visible reluctance, he forced his legs to move and followed the group.
At the very front of the procession walked Yoshinobu Gakuganji, the principal of Kyoto Jujutsu High—a bald old man with white eyebrows and beard, looking frail at first glance. But appearances were deceptive. His posture was steady, his steps firm. Rumor had it he was also a heavy metal enthusiast.
"Whatever you do, don't make the principal angry," Miwa had once whispered in Ren's ear. "Or he might treat your head like a drum and start playing it."
Walking directly behind the principal was Utahime-sensei. After her came a third-year student dressed in traditional court attire—ancient robes, immaculate posture, solemn expression, as if the words "I am aristocracy. I have a clan to inherit." were practically written across his face.
And in truth, they might as well have been.
This was Noritoshi Kamo, the legitimate heir of the prestigious Kamo Clan—one of the famed Three Great Sorcerer Families—and the designated next head of the house.
What struck Ren most, however, was that Kamo walked with his eyes closed.
Even while navigating uneven mountain paths.
As if he simply refused to witness the same scenery as commoners.
The rest were familiar faces: third-year Momo Nishimiya, and the other second-years he knew well.
After an arduous stretch of hiking, they finally arrived at their destination.
Standing before the gates of Tokyo Jujutsu High, Ren silently surveyed the welcoming party waiting for them.
The first to catch his eye was a tall woman with dark green hair tied into a high ponytail. Glasses. Long limbs. Upright posture. Sharp, disciplined presence. Her temperament was completely different from the Zen'in girl beside him—yet her facial features were almost identical.
This was Maki Zen'in—Zen'in Mai's twin sister.
"She's nothing like me," Mai Zen'in had told him before they departed. "She's got serious talent. For you, she'd be a worthy opponent."
She had leaned close then, red lips near his ear, breath warm and suggestive.
"If you're interested… try beating her."
"And if you can beat her… maybe I'll give you a special reward."
Ren's breathing had grown heavy at the memory.
The "reward" wasn't the point.
He was interested in her talent. Strictly speaking, he wanted a challenging opponent to sharpen himself against.
Maki seemed to sense his gaze. Her eyes shifted slightly, locking with his for a brief, sharp moment. Something strange flickered across her pale face before she quickly looked away—toward her sister.
Mai's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile.
Maki snorted softly and turned aside.
Unaware of the silent exchange between the twins, Ren's attention moved on to the spiky-haired boy standing beside Maki—equally stoic.
Megumi Fushiguro.
Despite the surname Fushiguro, the blood flowing in his veins belonged to the Zen'in Clan—another of the Three Great Families. And more importantly, he had inherited the clan's most prestigious technique:
The Ten Shadows Technique.
"If someone inherits that technique," Mai had explained to Ren, "they're practically guaranteed to become the next clan head."
The Ten Shadows Technique…
Ren's eyes gleamed faintly.
Would he get the chance to see it firsthand during this exchange event? And if he did—combined with his observational ability, learning aptitude, and the support of his Limitless Probability based technique—
Could he possibly learn it himself?
Those two were the only opponents he truly considered worth his full attention.
The others? Either insignificant… or simply unknown quantities.
For example, that orange-haired girl currently stomping her foot and demanding "local specialty gifts" from someone.
He knew only her name: Nobara Kugisaki.
From experience, the louder someone was, the less threatening they tended to be.
The real dangers were people like Maki and Megumi—the quiet ones. The calm exterior always gave him the unsettling impression that they were hiding something explosive, ready to erupt at any moment.
Ren assessed Tokyo's students calmly.
They assessed Kyoto's just as quietly.
There were no ceremonial speeches. No fireworks. No formal welcome.
Just as Ren began to suspect this wasn't a planned reception at all, a rapid clattering of wheels echoed from behind the Tokyo group.
A silver-haired man wearing a blindfold came sprinting toward them, pushing a cart.
"Sorry to keep you waiting!" he called cheerfully. "Looks like everyone's here!"
"I just got back from overseas!"
Utahime clicked her tongue in visible annoyance. "Gojo…"
Ren's brow twitched.
So this was him.
Satoru Gojo.
Head of the Gojo Clan. Widely acknowledged as the strongest sorcerer of the modern era.
Even as a newcomer from Kyoto, Ren had heard countless stories about this man.
But this… energy?
This entrance?
It didn't quite match his mental image of "the strongest."
Gojo enthusiastically began handing out what he claimed were "tribal charms from abroad." They looked suspiciously like cheap paper trinkets bought in bulk for pocket change.
Ren accepted one with a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Before he could process the absurdity, Gojo spun dramatically—like a ballet dancer—back to his cart and flung open a large box.
With a loud clang, the lid popped open.
A pink-haired boy sprang out of it, striking an exaggerated pose.
With theatrical flair, Gojo declared:
"Presenting the late—Yuji Itadori!"
The pink-haired boy waved wildly, grinning like an idiot.
Ren blinked.
Late?
…What?