Jujutsu Kaisen: False Dawn

Morning light filtered through the blinds of my apartment, and I blinked, slowly sitting up. The mattress underneath me was a mess, just like the rest of the apartment. I stretched, groaning as I looked around. Trash was piled up in the corner, a few empty bowls with the remnants of instant ramen were stacked near the sink, and my training clothes were scattered across the floor like broken promises.

Yeah, this place was the home of a madman.

I had cleaned it yesterday, or at least tried to. It looked less like a cursed research den and more like a teenager's cluttered shoebox now. Good enough.

Kai2 was still passed out in my shadow. The little bastard had grown lazy, choosing my shadow as his personal mattress like some freeloading ghost-fish. But he wasn't the problem. The real problem? The boom.

I needed to make one.

Not an explosion.

A statement.

Something loud enough that Jujutsu High couldn't ignore me. Something that would echo through the halls of sorcerer society like a curse in an empty shrine.

I had thought about it for days. Replaying every idea in my head. But nothing stood out. No easy target, no clear plan. I had no suicidal desire to throw myself into some high-level curse and pray for survival. I needed something calculated. Tactical. Something that felt like a me move.

So, I made a simple choice.

I packed up.

Told Rika—who, bless her, was disturbingly good at following commands—to store a few essentials in her cursed storage. Toothbrush, toothpaste, some clothes, snacks, my lucky lighter, and the most important thing of all: my notebook. The one I had filled with every observation, every trick, and every mistake I had made in this world. The bible of my cursed rebirth.

And then I walked out the door.

I didn't look back.

Kai2 slithered deeper into my shadow like he knew something was changing. That our time in this little apartment was over.

The air outside was brisk. Sunlight stretched long across the streets, the city still sleepy in its morning haze. I walked, hoodie on, hands stuffed in my pockets. My thoughts buzzed louder than the traffic.

I ended up at the shrine.

The place where it all began.

The first time I felt cursed energy was the first time I saw that twisted curse woman.

It had only been a month and a week, but it felt like a lifetime.

When I stepped into the clearing, I wasn't alone.

Tourists?

Locals? Maybe some old folks?

No.

There were too many of them, and they weren't praying or sightseeing.

They were moving with purpose, watching… scanning.

I kept my head down, moved to the steps at the edge, and sat. Took out my notebook.

Time to get rid of the evidence.

I flicked my lighter open. The flame caught, orange and alive.

Page after page burned.

I had memorized it all anyway. All the notes on cursed techniques, all the theories, all the rituals I failed, all the successful bindings. It was locked in my head now.

And that was good, because if anyone got ahold of this book, even Gojo would raise an eyebrow.

The smoke rose into the wind. The last page curled into black, the fire dying with a whisper.

I took a deep breath and leaned back.

And that's when I saw her.

Long blackish-purple hair tied behind her head. Slender build, traditional miko outfit with oddly modern boots. Brown eyes. She didn't walk. She moved. With quiet confidence.

Utahime Iori.

My heart skipped. My brain wanted to scream.

What is she doing here?!

She's supposed to be in Kyoto!

I swallowed the panic and locked it deep inside.

She's not that strong. Not compared to Rika. Not compared to… what I've become.

Still…

If she's here, and I see others like her, then these people around the shrine—

They're sorcerers.

Jujutsu High personnel. Maybe students, maybe assistants.

Suddenly, I felt like I was sitting in the middle of a bear's den with my neck exposed.

My cursed energy was low, almost indistinguishable from a normal person's. That was a blessing. It meant they hadn't noticed me.

They didn't react. Didn't flinch.

Good. I was invisible… for now.

But then—

A hand on my shoulder.

I nearly summoned Rika on instinct.

"Hey, kid," a voice said.

I turned.

Her voice was gentler than I remembered, less sharp. More like a concerned schoolteacher than a semi-grade 1 sorcerer.

"What are you doing here? It's not safe to hang out near shrines, you know?"

I blinked. Then, I smiled like a dumb teenager.

"Mmm? Why's that? It's a shrine. Public property, right?"

A shrug, a casual lean.

She frowned slightly, maybe confused by how chill I was. Most teenagers would have flinched. Not me.

She didn't know what I was. Who I was.

And then I saw it.

Her face.

No scar.

Huh…

She didn't have the scar yet.

I was looking at Utahime Iori before her war stories. Before she became the teacher I vaguely knew from the story.

An opportunity?

Possibly.

But also a threat.

I had to be careful. One wrong move, one wrong word, and I'm not some innocent teenager on a stroll—I'm a target.

"You got a name, kid?" she asked, still watching me.

"Ren," I replied. "Sato Ren."

Her brow furrowed, like she was trying to place the name.

Good. Let her think.

I stood up, brushing the ash off my notebook off my hoodie.

"Thanks for the warning," I said. "I'll head out."

She nodded, watching me.

I didn't look back until I was a good hundred feet away.

And even then, I didn't breathe easy.

Because I knew the game had changed.

I wasn't in hiding anymore.

The players were arriving.

The eyes of Jujutsu High… were beginning to turn here… Why?…

(To be continued)