The wooden sword rested against the engawa post, still warm from morning practice. I wiped a thin line of sweat from my forehead with the sleeve of my haori, breathing slow and even like always. Ten years old, and my arms were already starting to ache in that good, familiar way after two full cycles of the thirteen forms. Not real pain, just the body reminding me it was still growing into the power I carried.
" Yoriichi! Come inside before you catch a chill" Mother called from the kitchen. Her voice had that soft scold that only mothers can do, half worry, half affection. I smiled faintly and padded across the tatami in my socks. At ten, I still had to reach a little to slide the shoji door all the way open.
Aiko Tsugikuni stood at the low counter, chopping green onions for miso soup. Her dark hair was tied back with a simple pin, and the faint scent of breakfast Rice, grilled mackerel, and pickled radish—filled the small house. She glanced over her shoulder and her eyes softened the way they always did when she saw me. "You were out there again before the birds woke up. Ten years old and you train like an old man. Sit. Eat. You're still a boy, you know."
I bowed my head a little, the way Yoriichi would, and knelt at the table. "Yes, Mother. Thank you."
She set the bowl in front of me, steam curling up like tiny ghosts. For a moment she just watched me eat, chopsticks paused in her own bowl. I could feel the quiet question behind her eyes—the same one that had been growing since I came to this world and started erasing curses without ever telling her the full truth.
"You've been... different lately," she said carefully, pouring me tea. "The neighbors keep whispering about strange lights near the old shrine. And last week Mrs. Sato said her husband felt something 'warm' pass by their house right after that big construction accident. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
I took a sip of tea, calm as still water. "There was a shadow. I made it go away."
She sighed, but it wasn't angry. Just tired. The kind of tired a single mother gets when her only child talks like he's carrying the weight of the world. "Yoriichi… you're ten. You should be playing with other children, not sneaking off to fight things that could kill grown sorcerers. Your father—"
She stopped herself, the way she always did when she mentioned him. Seven years gone, but the scar in her cursed energy still flickered whenever his name came up. I reached across the table and touched her hand, small fingers against hers. Even at ten, my touch carried that quiet warmth, the same calm that had soothed her since the day I woke up in this body.
"I'm careful," I said softly. "I promise."
She squeezed my hand back, eyes misty for half a second before she blinked it away. "Eat your rice. And after breakfast, we're going into town together. I need to buy new thread for your haori. It's already getting tight on the shoulders again."
I nodded, hiding the small spark of excitement. Town meant more chances to sense the currents of cursed energy in Kyoto. The scout I had felt yesterday was still somewhere near the barriers of Jujutsu High-Grade 1, patient, watching. I hadn't gone looking. Not yet.
We left after breakfast, me walking beside her in my simple black kimono and orange-red haori, wooden sword tucked at my side like an ordinary training prop. Mother carried a woven basket. The streets of outer Kyoto were lively in the late morning sun—shopkeepers sweeping doorsteps, aunties gossiping over vegetable stalls, a few kids my age kicking a ball in an alley. One boy with messy hair waved at me as we passed. I gave a small, polite nod back, but didn't stop. Normal kids didn't feel the way I did.
Transparent World painted the world in clean lines. Cursed energy drifted like smoke between the buildings—thin and harmless mostly, except for a small knot of negativity near the river where a Grade 4 curse was probably forming. I let it be. Today was for Mother.
We reached the fabric shop near the old market district. While she talked with the owner about red thread to match my haori, I stood quietly by the door, eyes half-closed. The scout's presence was closer now. Not hostile. Curious. It felt like a blade resting in its sheath—sharp, but held back.
A man stepped into the shop a minute later.
He was tall, maybe in his late thirties, wearing a simple dark suit that almost looked like a uniform. Short graying hair, a calm face, and eyes that scanned the room like he was reading every cursed energy signature at once. Grade 1. Definitely from Kyoto Jujutsu High. The faint barrier technique around him was precise, the kind only teachers or senior sorcerers used.
His gaze landed on me.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then his eyes widened just a fraction, enough for someone like me to notice. He felt it. The sheer density of my cursed energy, even when I kept it tightly leashed. It was like trying to hide the sun behind a paper screen.
"Tsugikuni Aiko?" he asked politely, bowing to Mother. "my name is Hiroshi Takeda. I serve as a scout for Kyoto Jujutsu High. We received reports of unusual cursed energy activity in this district over the past few weeks. May I speak with you and your son for a moment?"
Mother's basket tightened in her hands. She glanced at me, worry flashing across her face, but she kept her voice steady. "Of course. We were just finishing here. Would you like to walk with us back toward the house?"
Takeda nodded. We stepped outside together, the three of us moving through the crowded street like any normal family and a polite visitor. I stayed quiet, walking half a step behind Mother, but my senses were wide open. Transparent World showed me the flow of his cursed energy, it was controlled, efficient and had no wasted leaks. He wasn't here to fight. He was here to evaluate.
"You're ten years old, correct?" he asked me directly after a few minutes of small talk with Mother.
"Yes, sir."
He smiled a little, the kind of smile adults give when they're trying not to scare a kid. "Most children your age can barely control their own cursed energy enough to see curses. Yet the reports say the district has been unusually quiet lately. No Grade 2 or higher incidents in months. You wouldn't happen to know why that is?"
I met his eyes without blinking. Calm. Serene. Exactly like Yoriichi would. "Shadows come and go. I help them leave faster when I can."
Mother's hand found my shoulder, protective. "He's just a boy who trains hard. His father was a Grade 2 sorcerer. It runs in the family, but we're not part of the big clans. We keep to ourselves."
Takeda stopped walking. We had reached the quieter path leading back to our house, cherry trees lining the lane. Petals drifted down around us. He studied me again, longer this time, and I felt him gently probe my cursed energy with his own—testing, not attacking.
What he found made his breath catch.
"Tsugikuni Yoriichi," he said, voice lower, more serious. "Your energy... it's not like anything I've seen in a child. It feels warm. Pure. Like sunlight given form. The principal would want to meet you. Kyoto Jujutsu High has a place for talented students. We could start you early. special classes, proper training. You'd be safe there. Protected."
I could feel Mother tense beside me. She was thinking about Father again—how the jujutsu world had taken him and given nothing back but a folded uniform and empty words.
I bowed my head politely, ten-year-old manners on full display even while my mind raced ahead. "Thank you for the offer, sir. But I am still learning. Mother and I are fine here for now."
Takeda didn't push. He was smart enough to know when a child's calm was more than just politeness. "I understand. But the invitation stands. If you ever change your mind, or if the shadows become too heavy for one boy to carry..." He handed Mother a small paper card with the Kyoto Jujutsu High seal. "Contact us anytime. Day or night."
He bowed to both of us, then turned and walked away, his presence fading into the city's background noise. Mother watched him go, then looked down at me. Her eyes were wet again.
"You could have said yes," she whispered. "You could have gone somewhere safe. Learned from real teachers instead of teaching yourself in the backyard like some kind of… little hero."
I took her hand in both of mine, small fingers wrapping around hers. "I like our backyard," I said simply. "And I like being with you. The shadows aren't too heavy yet."
She pulled me into a hug right there on the path, petals falling around us like pink snow. I rested my head against her side, letting the calm aura of Yoriichi wrap around her the way it always did. Inside, though, my thoughts were already turning.
The scout had seen me. Word would reach the higher-ups soon. Kyoto Jujutsu High would be watching. Maybe even Tokyo would hear whispers if the news traveled far enough. Gojo Satoru was already out there somewhere, the strongest, probably laughing at something ridiculous while the world spun on.
I wasn't ready to step fully into that world yet. Not at ten. But the Domain Expansion I had been reaching for in secret was getting closer—golden-red walls, floating embers, a barrier where Sun Breathing would become absolute law. I could feel it humming just beneath my skin, waiting for my body and cursed energy reserves to catch up.
That night, after Mother had fallen asleep with a worried crease still between her brows, I sat alone in the courtyard again. The moon was a thin sliver. I closed my eyes and let the faint outline of the Domain flicker around me, bigger than yesterday, lasting five heartbeats this time instead of three. Sun symbols glowed along the edges. The ground beneath my knees cracked with soft golden light.
Not yet.
But soon.
I opened my eyes and picked up the wooden sword. The hanafuda earrings swayed as I took my stance. Somewhere in the distance, a low-grade curse stirred near the river. I smiled, small and serene.
"Time to train a little more," I whispered to the night.