Six Eyes

"The lady has given birth!"

The door to the birthing room swung open, and the midwife's voice nearly lifted the roof. Everyone waiting in the corridor rushed forward, clamoring with questions, only for her next words to stun them into silence.

"Heavens, he has the six eyes!"

A baby's cries rang out from the inner room, clear and loud, as though he meant to wake the entire estate. The elderly clan elders exchanged looks, their clouded eyes brimming with tears.

"Blessed ancestors, heaven has favored the Gojo Clan!"

"Congratulations, Clan Head!"

The clan head took the swaddled infant and looked down at his wrinkled little face, at those eyes-azure, crystalline, as though a piece of the sky had been torn away and set inside them.

"What will his name be?"

Someone asked.

The clan head fell silent for a moment, then looked out the window. Just then, the wind scattered a cloud on the horizon, revealing the deep blue sky behind it.

"Arashi," he said. "Gojo Arashi."

"Arashi... Arashi..."

Someone repeated it twice under their breath, their eyes lighting up.

"What a lovely meaning~"

In the Gojo Clan's courtyard stood a century-old tree. Its lush branches blotted out the sky, and it was said to be older than the estate itself.

Gojo Arashi often lay on the grass beneath that tree, watching the sky.

Clouds drifted in, then drifted away. Birds flew past, then flew back. He would lie there like that, watching for half a day.

My name was Gojo Arashi.

They said I was the Gojo Clan's future, the Gojo Clan's hope.

They said... the six eyes were a gift from heaven, the inheritance of the clan's cursed technique.

They said I bore a great responsibility, that I was another future for Jujutsu Society.

My childhood was fairly happy.

Though his father was busy, he always practiced swordsmanship with him whenever he came home. His mother was gentle, always watching his antics with a smile. The clan elders were old-fashioned, but they were always kind to him.

Until the year I turned fifteen.

Father passed away.

Mother fell gravely ill.

I became the clan head.

After that day, everything changed.

This world wasn't as wonderful as I'd imagined.

Jujutsu sorcerers, clans, curse users, the Shogunate.

They were all scheming against one another.

So I learned early how to read people's expressions and act as the situation demanded. Amid those hollow pleasantries and probing words with hidden meanings, I learned to hide my true self and show only a perfectly measured smile.

My life was bleak back then.

Until she appeared.

Gojo Arashi lay beneath the old tree, gazing at the shadows of its branches overhead, his lips curving without him realizing.

He never spoke her name, but just thinking of her felt like a ray of light shining into his heart.

We fell in love.

We married and had a child, all within a year.

She gave birth to my child. That wrinkled little thing didn't have those azure eyes, but his cries were loud enough to lift the roof.

But our happiness didn't last long.

During an attack by a curse user, she was struck by a cursed technique while protecting our child. She didn't die, but she fell into a long coma.

One day.

One month.

One year.

Every day, I would sit by her bed for a while and talk. Just little things-what I'd eaten that day, how our child had learned to smile, how the old tree had sprouted new leaves. She couldn't hear me, but I talked anyway.

And today.

She woke up.

I stood beside the bed, looking at the woman who had opened her eyes, watching a smile slowly emerge on her pale face. I held her hand, my eyes burning, my throat tight, unable to say a word.

Our child was brought over. She looked at the little one, who could already walk and talk, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

The three of us held one another and wept.

The people in the household were crying for them, too.

The servants, the clan members, everyone who had kept vigil here-all were wiping away tears. The sobbing spread from the room into the corridor, into the courtyard, and beneath that century-old tree.

But Gojo Arashi kept feeling that something was wrong.

That crying.

It sounded as though someone had died.

He froze for a moment.

Was it... me?

He looked down and saw his hands fading.

Saw his body becoming transparent.

Saw her face, the face that had been smiling just moments ago, now streaked with tears as she looked at him.

So that was it.

Suddenly, he understood.

That battle.

That man wreathed in lightning.

That blast of Hollow Technique, and that blast of Electromagnetic Cannon.

Had he won? Lost? He couldn't remember.

He only remembered feeling exhausted in that final moment, and exhilarated.

As though he had finally used up every last bit of his strength.

He took one last look at her face, at his child's face, at the shadow of the old tree outside the window.

Then he smiled.

Beneath the moonlight.

Kashimo stood where he was, looking at the body before him, with only its two legs still standing.

The upper body had vanished completely. That shot of Electromagnetic Cannon had consumed almost all his cursed energy; otherwise, it would have been difficult to cancel out "Purple."

Only two legs remained planted on the ground, holding their final stance, as though they hadn't had time to fall.

The night wind swept up a few fallen leaves and carried them between those legs.

Kashimo looked at the two legs and spoke.

"You actually deactivated Limitless while trading blasts with me? I was planning to close in again if I couldn't hit you..."

"How stupid."

Then he turned, slung the Soul-Devouring Blade over his shoulder, and headed toward the other side of the woods.

Kashimo walked to one side and looked down at the two women lying in pools of blood.

Fenghua was still clinging to life, her chest rising and falling faintly, her red robes soaked through with blood. Her eyes remained open, fixed on the night sky, her thoughts unreadable.

A few steps away, Yingliang lay still.

She had stopped breathing entirely.

Steam from the Reverse Cursed Technique repairing his wounds seeped out around Kashimo, its pale mist dispersing beneath the moonlight. His wounds were healing, but it made no difference to him. He was used to pain; this much was nothing.

He looked down at Fenghua and remained silent for a moment.

"Why?"

Fenghua shifted her eyes toward the man towering over her. Moonlight shone from behind him, casting his face into shadow and hiding his expression.

"...What?"

"Your younger sister is dead," Kashimo said, his voice flat, as though confirming a fact. "Shouldn't you feel sad?"

He stared at her.

His gaze was dark and distant, as though he were looking at something strange, or trying to understand something he had never grasped.

Fenghua froze for an instant.

Then she tugged at the corners of her mouth, the smile looking somewhat twisted on her blood-smeared face.

"She and I weren't really close," she said, her voice hoarse but calm. "We just had the same father. That was our only blood tie."

Her red eyes shone startlingly bright in the darkness, like two glowing coals.

Kashimo smacked his lips.

He wanted to say something, but swallowed the words before they left his mouth. He looked into those eyes for two seconds, and in the end said nothing.

He turned away.

"Wait!"

Fenghua's voice came from behind him.

Kashimo stopped and turned his head.

"What is it?"

"Aren't you going to kill me?"

Fenghua lay on the ground, her head raised as she looked at him. Moonlight illuminated her face and the complicated glimmer in her eyes-not fear, but something closer to confusion.

Ever since childhood, she had been taught one thing.

The weak were meant to be killed by the strong.

That was the rule, the natural order, the way this world worked.

Kashimo scratched his head.

"Ah..."

"Not interested. My targets are powerful sorcerers, not two women with no strength whatsoever."

He paused after saying that.

In truth, even he didn't know why he was explaining so much.

His conversations with Rinko had already reached the point where even he felt awkward. Getting along with other people really wasn't his strong suit.

Fenghua looked at him without speaking.

Those red eyes blinked beneath the moonlight.

"...You really are something."

She murmured it so softly he could barely hear.

The little cursed energy she had left was still circulating, driving Reverse Cursed Technique to repair her wounds. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep her alive, enough to restore her body completely.