Under the moonlight, the once-calm river suddenly churned violently in defiance of physics. Overlapping waves transformed into several translucent ribbons of liquid, winding upward around that small, slender body.
Feng's silhouette, kneeling in the shallows, was enveloped in this flowing liquid cocoon. The crisp rush of water masked the faint, muffled sounds of bones and fascia stretching back into place.
Under Satoru Gojo's fascinated gaze, the body that had looked only twelve or thirteen was rapidly "growing."
His once-slender, shrunken limbs lengthened beneath the rushing water, and his rounded face gradually shed its childishness, revealing the strikingly refined features he had possessed all along. (Just like you esteemed readers.)
Dark red eyes glimmered between strands of wet black hair. As his breathing steadied, the cursed energy in the water continuously transformed into energy that repaired his flesh.
"I don't have any clothes..."
"Oh dear, what a terribly rude oversight. As a teacher, I can't let a future 'star student candidate' catch cold on a riverbank."
Satoru Gojo landed lightly on the pebble-strewn bank, his sky-blue eyes, half-hidden behind sunglasses, unabashedly surveying the body taking shape within the water.
He showed no embarrassment whatsoever. Instead, he seemed perfectly at ease, even carrying a hint of the cheerfulness of someone whose prank had succeeded.
With a light tap of his long fingers in midair, he seemingly pulled a dark blue school uniform jacket from some invisible dimensional rift.
"It might be a little too big, but that's much better than becoming a 'river spirit legend' along the Tama River.
Here, catch. This is a specially tailored Jujutsu High uniform."
With a casual flick of his hand, Satoru Gojo sent the thick black jacket arcing through the air, straight toward the figure who had just finished taking shape and was pushing himself up from the riverbed.
As the jacket flew toward him, the remnants of the sure-hit rain curtain surrounding Feng obligingly parted to either side.
Gojo's gaze lingered briefly on those dark red eyes, while his mind rapidly analyzed the cellular reconstruction he had just observed.
The efficiency with which Feng used surrounding water sources to achieve complete material restoration far exceeded any cursed technique he knew. Its underlying logic was even closer to the "fundamental source" than Reverse Cursed Technique.
"Once you put on my clothes, that means you've signed a 'letter of intent to enroll.'
So, little deity who still hasn't introduced himself, how do you plan to repay the savior who rescued you from such an embarrassing predicament?"
He leaned forward slightly, his hands resting casually in his trouser pockets. His tousled silver-white hair stirred in the breeze, concealing the intensely inquisitive gleam that flashed through his eyes.
Feng was a little speechless. In truth, he was quite willing to join Jujutsu High, and he knew perfectly well what the man before him was like.
He was just about to think things over when he suddenly realized something.
All his memories of the original Jujutsu Kaisen had begun to blur, and some had vanished altogether.
Only his complete memories of the Star Plasma Vessel Incident, the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons, and the events surrounding Ryomen Sukuna's birth remained.
The rest of his memories were somewhat hazy.
He wanted to speak, but the words stuck in his throat, as though some kind of binding vow were restricting him.
This is trouble... Is this one of the prices of transmigrating? Never mind. I'll join Jujutsu High first and play everything else by ear.
Feng put on the clothes, then dispelled his domain.
Fine sand and pebbles scraped softly beneath his feet as he stepped out of the ankle-deep shallows.
The dark blue uniform jacket belonging to the Special Grade Sorcerer was far too large. Its hem nearly reached the tops of his thighs, and its cuffs hung awkwardly as his arms rested at his sides.
The dense curtain of rain that had shrouded the surrounding area rapidly thinned and broke apart, becoming a barely perceptible drizzle that fell gently between them.
With the domain withdrawn, the subtle pressure the cursed technique had exerted on space quietly dissipated as well, leaving only the damp, cool scent of earth in the air.
"I've lost some of my memory myself. I only remember the past few hours... I don't have anything to repay you with... I suppose you can call me Feng."
Satoru Gojo stood at ease beside a patch of withered grass a short distance away, his posture straight and one hand tucked into his pocket.
He displayed neither surprise nor suspicion at the claim of "memory loss."
Behind his dark sunglasses, those sky-blue eyes that seemed capable of seeing into the soul merely swept over Feng, catching the last fluctuations of cursed energy settling within him.
"Feng? That's a nice name. Hearing it in this rain, it has a certain quiet feel to it."
He gave a short, bright laugh, then raised his other hand and waved it through the air as though brushing away the lingering mist before his nose.
"It's fine if you can't repay me. 'Investing in promising prospects' happens to be a personal hobby of mine as an outstanding teacher.
Still, someone who can walk away from a battle of that caliber with his sanity intact can't be defined as just an 'amnesiac,' can he, Feng?"
Satoru Gojo's gaze passed over Feng's cheeks, made all the paler by the high-collared jacket, then shifted toward the abandoned sanatorium in the distance, which had fallen completely silent.
To his senses, as precise as high-resolution radar, the cursed residue lingering in those ruins displayed a crazed distortion. Those were certainly not traces an ordinary Grade 2, or even Grade 1, curse could leave behind.
Although that nauseating presence had already fled far away, he could tell that Feng had "neutralized" at least several of its lethal attacks during the battle.
"If you don't remember, then that works out perfectly. The dorms at Jujutsu High just happen to need a transfer student who can make 'artificial rain.'
It's no luxury hotel, but I imagine you'd prefer somewhere with a ceiling to being homeless on a riverbank, right?"
As though Feng's enrollment were already settled, his expression relaxed, even taking on some of his usual irreverent nonchalance.
He turned sideways and gestured in a direction where a black sedan seemed to be waiting in the shadows.
"So, before that disgusting smell comes back, shall we get something sweet to replenish our energy?"
"Something sweet?"
Feng gave no definite answer, simply following Satoru Gojo quietly into the car.
The damp riverbank and gravel were shut outside the car door, replaced by the slightly cold feel of leather seats. Satoru Gojo sank into the spacious back seat, his long legs crossed, occupying nearly half the cabin.
The dark blue coat looked even more ill-fitting on Feng now. With his arms lowered, the cuffs covered most of his hands, leaving only a small glimpse of pale fingertips now and then as the light shifted.
Satoru Gojo did not rush to start a conversation. He simply turned his head, propped one hand against the edge of the window, and tapped his chin rhythmically with his fingertips, observing this excessively quiet variable beside him through his sunglasses.
"That's right. Premium fuel that gives your brain an 'illusion of happiness.'
You should know, keeping these eyes running twenty-four hours a day means my brain burns through an incredible amount of sugar every second."
He took a brightly wrapped candy from his coat pocket, deftly peeled off the wrapper, and tossed a hard candy with a rich strawberry scent into his mouth.
Chewing the candy as he spoke indistinctly, Satoru Gojo swiped across his phone screen with his other hand. Its faint glow illuminated his striking profile, reflections of data and maps flickering in his sky-blue eyes.
"Since you only remember the past few hours, let 'sweets' be your first impression of this world.
They're a lot friendlier than those disgusting cursed spirits, aren't they?"
He suddenly lowered his voice, the teasing edge in his tone fading slightly.
"So, before we arrive at our destination-the Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu High School-we'll take a little detour through Shinjuku.
There's a place there that makes parfaits with real soul. While we're at it, I also need to check whether that 'body made of water' of yours has a stomach that can digest human food normally."
"Uh... That shouldn't be a problem." Feng picked up a candy and popped it into his mouth, letting the sweetness spread.
The fatigue in his body eased a little for a moment as well.
The assistant supervisor in the front seemed about to say something, but after glancing in the rearview mirror at Satoru Gojo's profile, which practically said "don't spoil my fun," wisely chose to remain silent.
The car steadily picked up speed on the empty highway. Neon lights grew denser outside the windows, heralding the approach of that great beast that swallowed all darkness-Tokyo.
Before you continue