Fun?

The infirmary smelled of disinfectant, mingled with the scents of medicine and cleaning agents.

Sunlight slanted through the window, casting square patches of light on the white sheets. Dust drifted slowly through the beams like tiny stars.

Satoru Gojo sat in the chair beside the bed, his posture relaxed, but Madara could sense his focus.

Then Satoru Gojo did something Madara hadn't expected.

He raised a hand and took off his blindfold.

Azure eyes came into view.

That was no ordinary blue.

It was a blue that held the entire sky, the entire firmament-brilliant and fathomless.

Tiny points of light seemed to swirl within his irises, as though they reflected countless stars.

The Six Eyes.

Madara met his gaze.

"How did it feel?" Satoru Gojo asked, his voice calm. "Using your power."

Madara paused.

That question wasn't easy to answer.

The truth was, those powers felt like innate instincts, as natural to use as breathing, yet as unfamiliar as something borrowed.

Those memories, those skills, that combat awareness-all of them felt like foreign objects forcibly stuffed into his mind. He could use them, but they didn't entirely belong to "him."

"I don't know." In the end, he chose an honest, vague answer. "But... I felt very light. Like I might fly away if no one held on to me."

It was a very childish comparison, but unexpectedly apt.

Satoru Gojo stared at him for a few seconds, then smiled.

"Is that so, is that so~" He put his blindfold back on, hiding those overly piercing eyes.

"Don't worry. That's a normal reaction. The first time they use a Cursed Technique, the first time they feel Cursed Energy flowing, plenty of people feel something similar-like a door to a new world has opened, and anything is possible."

Madara nodded silently.

"Thank you, Gojo-sensei," he said, and he meant it.

Whatever Satoru Gojo's intentions were, at least at this moment, he had given Madara a place to stay and a chance to choose.

"No need to thank me~" Satoru Gojo waved a hand. "Besides, I'm happy to see a powerful junior come along. Jujutsu Society needs fresh blood, especially someone like you."

He rubbed his chin, looking as though he were thinking.

"Now, let's get down to business. How much do you know about your own Cursed Technique?"

"Not much," Madara answered cautiously.

That was the truth. When those memories flooded in, the instructions and precautions had all seemingly been bundled up and stuffed in with them.

"Do you have any other abilities?" Satoru Gojo asked casually.

Madara thought for a moment.

The Sharingan's abilities went far beyond these, but he merely shook his head.

"I don't know," he said. "These are all I've used so far."

He lied, not out of a desire to deceive, but out of an instinct for self-preservation.

Exposing too much wasn't good for anyone. He understood that much.

In this unfamiliar world, keeping something in reserve until he understood the rules was the most basic survival strategy.

Satoru Gojo nodded and didn't press him further.

He stood up and walked to the window, looking outside with his back to Madara.

Sunlight fell on his white hair, gilding it with a pale golden halo.

"Do you know about the concept of 'curse users' in Jujutsu Society?" he suddenly asked.

Madara looked at his back. "A little."

"Then..." Satoru Gojo turned around. Though he wore a blindfold, Madara could feel the weight of his gaze. "What's the difference between a 'jujutsu sorcerer' and a 'curse user'?"

Madara fell silent.

The question seemed simple, but the answer wasn't.

Was it allegiance? Purpose? Methods? Or something more fundamental?

Satoru Gojo continued without waiting for him to answer.

"Power is neither good nor evil," he said, his voice calm, but every word carried force.

"Cursed Energy is Cursed Energy, and a Cursed Technique is a Cursed Technique. The difference lies in the person using that power, and what they use it for."

He walked back to the bedside, bent down, and brought his face close to Madara's.

He was very close-close enough that Madara could feel the warmth of his breath.

"I don't know where you came from, or what you've been through." Satoru Gojo spoke softly, but each word was as clear as though it had been carved into the air.

"But since you've chosen to become a jujutsu sorcerer, since you've chosen to come to Jujutsu High, I'll give you a chance."

"A chance to prove yourself."

Madara raised his eyes toward the black blindfold.

"How do I prove myself?"

Satoru Gojo straightened up, flashing his signature smile, so dazzling it was a little punchable.

"Who knows?" He spread his hands. "That's for you to decide. Whether you use your power to protect the weak or satisfy your own desires; whether you follow the rules or break them; whether you become a hero or a villain-those are all your choices."

Madara froze.

"That's it?"

"That's it." Satoru Gojo patted his head, the gesture gentle but carrying a certain solemnity. "Being a jujutsu sorcerer is essentially that simple. You have power, and then you choose how to use it. No textbooks, no standard answers. Just you."

He turned and walked toward the door, pausing with his hand on the handle.

"Get some proper rest today. Starting tomorrow, you'll have classes, training, and missions. You'll be living the normal life of a 'Jujutsu High student.'"

The door opened, then closed.

Click.

Silence returned to the infirmary.

Madara sat on the edge of the bed, holding the bottle of energy drink. The bottle was cold, and condensation dampened his palm.

Outside the window, the sunlight was just right.

On the distant training ground, Panda and Inumaki were cleaning up the traces of the battle-filling holes, fixing the turf, and gathering scattered debris.

Maki stood to one side with her arms folded, supervising and occasionally pointing out spots they hadn't cleaned properly.

Okkotsu had returned after changing clothes and was helping move tools.

Everything was peaceful and ordinary.

As though that nearly fatal battle had never happened, as though the blue Susanoo had been nothing but an illusion.

Madara unscrewed the cap and took a sip.

The cloyingly sweet liquid slid down his throat, bringing a brief moment of clarity.

He set the bottle down and lay back on the bed, looking at the fine cracks in the ceiling.

Sharingan, Susanoo, Cursed Energy, jujutsu sorcerers, curse users, Jujutsu High, Satoru Gojo...

The words spun and intertwined in his mind, forming a picture that felt both familiar and strange.

Familiar because he knew how this world's story would unfold, knew these people's fates, knew the disasters about to happen.

Strange because he was living in this world now.

He wasn't a spectator or a reader, but an actor. His choices would affect the plot, and his existence would change the future.

"Prove myself, huh..." Madara murmured.

He closed his eyes.

The Deity's face, formed from starlight, surfaced in his mind, along with those irresponsible words.

"Isn't it enough if it's fun?"

The corner of Madara's mouth twitched.

Yeah, as long as it's fun.

Since I've been thrown into this game, since I'm destined to play a role, since I can't choose where I start-

Then let's play.

Play to my heart's content, play to the ending, play until even that lofty Deity applauds.

He rolled over to face the wall.

Panda and Inumaki's bickering drifted in through the window.

"You haven't finished sweeping over here!"

"Bonito flakes!"

Then came Maki's scolding.

"Take this seriously, you two!"

Okkotsu's gentle voice tried to smooth things over.

"All right, all right, we're almost done..."

And from far away came Satoru Gojo's loud laughter, utterly devoid of a teacher's dignity.

In this world where jujutsu and curses intertwined, on this stage filled with danger and possibility-

A new story began.