As Though It Were Yesterday

Amabuki Xia Xia was the least gifted child in the Swordsmith Village.

He could not learn to forge swords or run a business. He spent his days sitting motionless before his parents' graves, living off whatever the mountains and rivers provided, scraping by through unsavory means.

His only companion was the old maple tree outside his house.

When his great-uncle died, the relatives divided up all the family property, leaving only that rotten tree, hollowed out, worm-eaten, and struck by lightning, useless as timber.

Xia Xia's great-uncle died peacefully. Xia Xia himself was part of the inheritance he left behind.

After the commotion, only the child remained, along with the ramshackle old house. Built of mud and tiles, it was nothing anyone bothered to fight over.

Until... forget it... best not to mention it.

"When maple leaves turn red, partings abound."

The swordsmith returned to his little house with his sword.

Fortunately, he was very patient, and cowardly enough.

More than a dozen years had passed since the death of the Jujutsu Sorcerer named Isshin.

Hajime Kashimo would never remember such an obscure opponent, just as he would never care about someone like Amabuki Dōkō. Mere grains of sand, withered leaves.

But time was the one opponent he could not defeat.

The human body aged. Unless one was half Cursed Spirit, even an ordinary Jujutsu Sorcerer would die of old age. He had already prepared to turn himself into a Cursed Object and travel into the future.

Once reborn through incarnation, he would fight again.

"Hajime Kashimo."

In the stillness of the night, the aged [Thunder God] raised his head from his bed and saw a nobody, a young man who hardly looked like a Jujutsu Sorcerer.

The man's presence was faint, like a ghost.

He had slipped past the attendants and every defense in the estate.

"What brings you here?"

Even Hajime Kashimo's bones had grown old and rotten. He had been in seclusion for a long time. Perhaps because even legends grew old, no one had come looking for him in ages.

He was now merely an old man on the brink of death.

He was far too old. Hidden injuries had accumulated, and time had ravaged his body. He was so weak now that he might need help merely getting out of bed, let alone drawing a sword.

A hero in his twilight years was a bitter sight.

When had it begun?

Surely he should not have aged this quickly?

He would never think of that ordinary cup of tea more than a dozen years ago. He would never imagine someone could lay plans spanning so many years, or stoop to such depths.

It was a plague.

It was a lingering illness far beyond his understanding.

It was a cup of tea tainted with a dying patient's curse.

A plan laid far in advance.

Most people in the martial world settled their grudges openly. When a legend fell, no one would ordinarily strike at an old man with one foot in the grave.

Unless they bore a deep, bitter grudge and had no regard for honor.

"Sorry for the wait, Hajime Kashimo."

It was not for the glory of slaying a legend, nor was it solely for revenge. The man had waited more than a dozen years, and now he had come.

At last, Hajime Kashimo understood where that faint sense of being watched had come from all these years. His midnight nightmares and inexplicable agitation during the day now had a definite cause.

That man had been beside him all along, waiting for him to age, waiting for an opening, until he was at his weakest. That terrifying man was like a venomous snake coiled around a courtyard pillar, sharpening his fangs, arching his body and gathering strength, waiting for his chance.

He had come.

Xia Xia stood before Hajime Kashimo like a respectful younger relative, wiping the film clinging to his eyelids so he could see his face clearly.

Of course, Hajime Kashimo did not recognize him.

Nor had he ever imagined that his end would come today.

The old man was just about to ask when a blade pierced his chest and shredded his heart, trapping his words in his throat.

Then came the second blade, thrust into his spine, stripping his body of all ability to move. A diagonal slash followed, extracting the entire spine from his flesh.

Finally came the third blade, driven straight through his lower abdomen, destroying the Jujutsu Sorcerer's Cursed Energy core. He could no longer summon even a trace of Cursed Energy, leaving him as helpless as an ordinary man.

The technique was not elegant, but it was ruthless enough. Most importantly, Hajime Kashimo was old. He could neither dodge nor block it.

He was going to die.

He would die at the hands of someone he might or might not know, killed by a vile, shameless ambush. The man had not only destroyed his life, but trampled on his dignity as a warrior.

Are you really human?

Hajime Kashimo wanted to ask his assassin a question. Does someone as unscrupulous as you truly have no heart?

The answer was obvious. He probably did not.

Killing was simply killing. Honor had nothing to do with it.

"..."

"But this isn't over yet, is it?"

Xia Xia stood before that puddle of flesh stripped of its bones, maintaining the necessary caution.

Finishing off an enemy was a good habit. So was watching over the corpse.

Yes, it was far from over.

Though he had grievously wounded this elder with a dishonorable attack before Hajime Kashimo could react, a legend like Hajime Kashimo could never permit himself such an ugly death.

Scenes from the past cycled before the old man's eyes. His clouded, lightless eyes trembled faintly. The enemies he had slain, those who had still smiled at him before their deaths, were all calling to him, urging him to do what he wanted.

"Hey, Hajime Kashimo, you can't die an ugly death like some stray dog..."

"Do it for us, if nothing else. Go on. Fight him honorably, in a battle to the death. Teach that bastard what it means to be a warrior, what it means to be human."

"If anyone can do it, you can."

By the time Hajime Kashimo was born, war had already destroyed an entire generation. He was born into an age of devastation, an age in which everyone was formidable, yet as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, all he possessed was an Innate Cursed Technique that would kill him if he used it.

Someone who had once been the least gifted of all, a nobody who could never possess talent-that was who he truly was.

Over the years, many had speculated about Hajime Kashimo's Domain Expansion. But it had never occurred to them that the god standing high above them had only ever used ordinary attacks and enhanced ordinary attacks-the man named Hajime Kashimo had always fought by releasing the lightning-aspected Cursed Energy granted by his Innate Cursed Technique.

Before the god became a true god, before he became a legend beyond the reach of ordinary mortals, Hajime Kashimo...

Even with his Cursed Energy core destroyed, he still had one final means. Even if death was certain, Hajime Kashimo resolved to pour everything into obliterating this vile wretch. It would be his contribution to the world.

That was his resolve as a nobody.

There was nothing left to regret.

[Cursed Technique release]

[Mythical Beast Amber]

What had been damaged was his human body. If he offered everything he had as the price and fully released his Cursed Technique...

Then let it be so.

He would make a fatal binding vow. All he needed was to return to his prime for the coming battle. Once it was over, Hajime Kashimo would report to the Underworld himself.

The lightning that had accompanied him all his life answered him, along with the oath he spoke, word by word.

"Burn everything I have to ashes as the stake for this battle. I hereby make a binding vow: when the battle ends, I will die."

His aged, sickly body began to transcend itself. Azure lightning replaced his decaying flesh, turning that grievously wounded, doomed body into a humanoid storm of Cursed Energy.

Stronger than ever.

More radiant than ever.

Even if it is only once, even if I die the moment the battle ends, I truly do not want it to end like this.

"Come, fight me."

The god shrouded in lightning issued a once-in-a-lifetime invitation to a duel to the death to his despicable challenger.

Though this battle had opened with a cowardly ambush, and though the Thunder God's legend would end after it regardless of victory or defeat.

The Thunder God, his heart filled with pride and compassion, was still willing to give the transgressor a chance-a chance to slay a god in an honorable fight. He would show him what true strength was.

Weakling, with everything the name "Hajime Kashimo" means at stake, I will teach you through death how to become a true human being.

I will not lose.

"Domain Expansion."

"Dom... Hollow Wicker Basket!!!"