Lonely at the Top

The strong were respected, admired, and feared.

Satoru Gojo was precisely such a person.

Known as "the strongest," he had been a prodigy since childhood, the focus of attention and everyone's expectations.

But on the other side of that halo lay the loneliness of never truly being understood.

He had stood at the summit for so long that he had grown accustomed to its cold winds and desolation.

He was a gardener, carefully teaching his juniors, letting one flower bud after another bloom in the soil of jujutsu.

But he always had to take care to control the sunlight and water-too gentle, and they could not thrive; a little too much force, and their delicate stems might snap.

No one could truly stand beside him.

Yuta Okkotsu had Special Grade potential, and Kinji Hakari's talent was remarkable as well.

They were outstanding juniors, the hope of the future. Everyone in Jujutsu Society expected them to catch up with Satoru Gojo, but no one had ever expected them to "surpass" him.

When teaching taijutsu, Satoru Gojo adjusted his approach to his opponent, choosing among three options:

First, he would not attack at all, relying only on movement and guidance to help the other person understand.

Second, he would use the most basic attacks, stopping short of causing harm.

Third, he would apply pressure with attacks reinforced by cursed energy, forcing the other person to break through at their limits.

And so far, Okkotsu and Kinji Hakari were the only two juniors who had made him use the third approach.

Even then, Satoru Gojo had never used his full strength-not because he was unwilling, but because he could not.

The moment he became a little serious, his opponent was already nearing their limit. Going any further might mean brutalizing them rather than teaching them.

Now, he sat alone on a bench beside the Training Ground and took off his blindfold.

His azure Six Eyes reflected the deserted grounds as he opened and closed his hand before his eyes.

Loneliness.

He had long known that feeling, yet he would never grow accustomed to it.

He had become someone others could neither imagine nor reach.

It was cold at the top. The title of strongest was both a crown and a shackle.

Sometimes he wondered whether what finally killed him might not be some powerful enemy, but the endless loneliness of the long years.

If the strong could only wait alone to die of old age, that was far too cruel.

Perhaps the heavens had noticed that loneliness.

And so, a second powerful figure was born into this era.

Madara Uchiha.

Sixteen years old, only half a year into his enrollment, and he already possessed the "strength" of a Special Grade Sorcerer-not potential, but actual strength.

Unlike Yuta Okkotsu, whose Special Grade designation came from the Special Grade Vengeful Cursed Spirit Rika Orimoto, Madara's power came entirely from himself.

A powerful cursed technique, immense cursed energy, delicate control, and, most crucially-Domain Expansion.

And all of it was what he had mastered in just half a year.

Reverse Cursed Technique was probably within reach as well.

If he kept growing...

"In another six months, Madara will have caught up with me completely."

Satoru Gojo murmured to himself.

This was no idle claim. When faced with someone truly strong, he understood that extraordinary presence better than anyone.

It was a fundamental kind of "strength," a quality unique to those who stood at the summit.

Having spent so long looking down upon everyone from on high, Satoru Gojo felt, for the first time, that someone truly stood beside him.

Not looking up, not chasing after him, but standing shoulder to shoulder.

That realization made him feel, from the bottom of his heart... happy.

Footsteps came from behind, neither hurried nor slow. Satoru Gojo did not turn around and put his blindfold back on.

Madara walked to the vending machine beside the Training Ground and inserted some coins. The button gave a crisp click.

He bent down to retrieve two cans of drinks, then turned toward Satoru Gojo on the bench.

"Would you like something to drink, Gojo-sensei?"

"Strawberry juice~"

Madara looked at the two cans in his hands-one coffee, one tea-hesitated for a second, then went back to the vending machine and bought a can of strawberry juice.

He tossed the pink can to Satoru Gojo.

"Thank you~" Satoru Gojo caught it easily, pulled the tab, and took a long drink.

The sugary strawberry flavor spread across his tongue.

Madara sat down beside him, opened his coffee, and took small sips.

Afternoon sunlight filtered through the leaves, scattering patches of light and shadow, while faint birdsong drifted over from afar.

The silence was not awkward. It felt more like a shared, unspoken respite.

"How's Itadori doing?" Madara spoke first.

"There were a few complications, but he enrolled without a hitch in the end."

Satoru Gojo shook his juice can. "And in a little while, we'll be picking up our third new student~ So? With more juniors coming in, are you planning any welcome gifts as their senior?"

Madara fell silent for a moment. "Uh... not really?"

"So you're that coldhearted, Madara?" Satoru Gojo feigned hurt.

"Megumi would be fine, but I don't really know the other two..." Madara chose his words carefully. "Maybe when there's a chance later."

"Oh-fair enough." Satoru Gojo nodded and let the subject drop.

Madara took a sip of coffee and looked toward a distant cherry tree.

Its petals had all fallen, and its bright green leaves swayed gently in the wind.

"But I'm more worried about Itadori."

"Why do you say that?"

"A fifteen-year-old high school student having to shoulder that kind of responsibility..." Madara's voice was calm, but Satoru Gojo heard an unusual trace of seriousness in it.

"I'm afraid he won't be able to bear it."

Satoru Gojo was silent for a few seconds, the juice can paused at his lips.

"It'll be all right," he said at last, his tone carrying a rare gentleness.

"Itadori's strong. Stronger than either of us thinks."

"Is that so?" Madara did not argue. He merely took another sip of coffee. "If Sukuna dies, will Itadori die too?"

The air seemed to still for an instant.

Satoru Gojo set down his juice can, and plastic made a soft sound against the wooden bench.

"Who knows?" he said very softly. "In the worst case, he will."

Madara turned to look at Satoru Gojo's profile, obscured by his blindfold.

"The worst case? You really are confident, sensei."

"Of course." Satoru Gojo smiled, his smile carrying an utterly matter-of-fact confidence. "I'm the strongest, after all."

"Yes." Madara smiled as well, faintly, but with a certain deeper meaning. "You are the strongest, sensei."

Satoru Gojo tilted his head, his gaze seeming to pierce the fabric of his blindfold and settle on Madara.

He looked at him for so long that Madara thought he was about to say something important.

"Speaking of which," Satoru Gojo finally said, "how's your Reverse Cursed Technique coming along?"

"Hmm... I'm still figuring it out," Madara answered honestly. "But I don't think it'll take much longer."

For the first time, Satoru Gojo's smile disappeared completely, and he looked at Madara with a serious expression.

His usual irreverence was gone. This was the genuine scrutiny of a teacher assessing his student.

"You're confident?"

Madara met his gaze, his black eyes showing neither uncertainty nor hesitation.

"Of course."

Two words, casually spoken, yet carrying immense weight.

Satoru Gojo stared at him for a few seconds, then smiled again, more genuinely and more freely than ever before.

"Really, really~ That's good, that's good."

He tipped his head back and drained the last of his strawberry juice, crushed the can in his hand, then tossed it in a beautiful arc into a distant trash can.

"All right!"

Satoru Gojo suddenly stood and stretched luxuriously, his bones giving faint clicks.

"Well, I've still got things to do, so I'll head off~ I need to report to the Principal about Itadori, and there's the new student enrollment paperwork, and next month's lesson plans... Ah, adults really are busy~"

"Take care." Madara waved to him from the bench.

Humming an off-key tune with his hands in his pockets, Satoru Gojo ambled away.

The sunlight stretched his shadow long, and his white hair looked almost transparent in the light.

Madara watched him go, only looking away once he disappeared around the corner of the school building.

He lowered his head to look at the coffee can in his hand. Drops of condensation slid down over his fingers.

"The strongest, huh..."

He repeated the words softly, then tipped his head back and finished the remaining coffee in one go.

In the distance, Satoru Gojo was indeed humming.

It was a very old nursery rhyme with a simple, lilting melody. He rarely hummed unless he was in a particularly good mood.

Today, he was in a particularly good mood.

Because someone could stand beside him now.

Not looking up at him, not chasing after him, but someone who could truly walk shoulder to shoulder with him.

The sweetness of strawberry juice still lingered in his mouth, and the afternoon sunlight was pleasantly warm.

Satoru Gojo thought that perhaps his lonely days were about to end.