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Disclaimer: This story is a fanfic and I do not own any of the original works. I take credit only for my own characters, character and plot changes I've made myself.

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 Broader World

Groaning, Yamato stirred awake, feeling lingering pain all throughout his body.

“Gojo, I thought I told you to keep him alive, not leave him to bleed out?! Could’ve at least done first aid,” a strained and admonishing female voice broke the silence.

His heavy eyelids finally under his control, Yamato opened his eyes to the sight of a white-haired boy with shades shrugging his shoulders as if it wasn’t his fault. Who wears shades indoors?

Although still seeing double, Yamato slowly made out his surroundings. An empty apartment room with beige walls and empty. The only furniture in the room was the sofa he laid in, the only other thing being a trashcan in the corner. The ceiling lamp was flickering, partly due to it being so old, but also because the white-haired boy once again being a nuisance, flicked the switch every so often. Not an environment that screamed safety, in fact, more like ‘kidnapping’. 

“You're lucky I got a lift from Geto, Gojo. What 15 to 20 minutes? He barely had ten,” grumbling, her hands still focused over Yamato’s left chest, the girl sent a glance at the balcony.

That was when Yamato noticed the third person, another man, leaning over the railings. 

Wholly unaware of his awakening, the girl continued complaining.

Yamato slowly moved his head, his eyes meeting the boy called ‘Gojo’. The boy smirked, pushing himself off the wall he was leaning off of. Slowly walking over under the confused gaze of the girl most likely treating him, he said,

“Awake are we now?” His rhetorical question made the others turn their heads to Yamato.

Stared at by three strangers, youngsters maybe, but strangers nonetheless, Yamato kept his eyes glued open narrowed. His vigilance was at an all time high, especially since he could see them all having the energy every monster, and he, had. 

Foe or ally?

He wasn’t entirely sure of how to act, as the girl had a hand over his heart. If they were closer in age and adults and not fresh out of a horror film, this encounter might have appealed a bit more to him romantically. Now however, her hand being over his heart was anything but romantic.

As uncomfortable as it may be, he wasn’t dumb enough not to see that she had healed him. His gears were still churning however, abilities lined up to lash out at the first notion of danger.

It seemed his actions weren’t unnoticed, as the two boys visibly tensed. 

“Don’t. You’re in no danger, and you won’t be able to handle them, nor yourself,” the girl sent the boys threatening glares, telling them to stand down.

“Your body’s in shambles. How the heck aren’t you down and crying in agony right now?” She asked,

“He can’t feel pain?” The boy just outside on the balcony finally spoke up.

“No, he just doesn’t want to expose a weakness. Clever kid, too clever for himself,” he answered his own question before the others could answer.

“How do you know?” Yamato finally decided to speak up, partly due to curiosity, but mostly because of the growing pain.

He needed to either get the heck out of here, or 

Instinctively using “育つ/Growth” earned him a twitch of the finger from the white-haired boy. Although not primarily a healing ability, its overall effect on mending shredded muscle fibers and cracked bones was decent enough.

“Oh, healing? But somewhat limited, not the reverse cursed technique it seems,” the girl mumbled to herself, her palm still against his chest.

When she came out of her stupor and saw Yamato staring at her, she awkwardly coughed into her free hand to explain.

“Hmm, there’s a lot to go over. Let’s get the basics over with first. My name is Ieiri Shoko (家入 硝子), second-year sorcerer at Tokyo branch Jujutsu High, and the leader,” her smile widening as she introduced herself. Waving her open arm to the others, giving them no chance to raise any complaints.

“These idiots are Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru. The arrogant geezer’s Gojo, and the perpetually sulking frown’s Geto,” her introduction short, earned her a huff and a snort respectively.

“While we wait for the assistant to arrive,” Shoko finally took a step back, content with her work, “we have some questions for you. You don’t need to answer them if you don’t want to, but it would really help when we eventually have to give our report. And considering how much these idiots care about authority, I’ll be the one actually writing it.”

To this, the boys acted as if nothing was said, completely ignoring Shoko’s grumbling complaint. 

Still not trusting of the bunch, Yamato internally decided to try negotiating.

“Information for information. How about that?” He asked carefully. They naturally had the choice and seemingly the strength to simply deny his request, using force as a method to extract whatever they needed. But so far, Shoko at least didn’t seem to be the type to go straight into interrogation and torture. The others were question marks however, thus his apprehension.

Surprise in her eyes, but still smiling; one that turned more smirk-ish as she decided her next move.

“Smart brat, but I will also decide whether or not to answer your question or not,” she finally said, crunching on the lollipop in her mouth.

“First off then, what is your name?” Shoko asked.

Out of every question she could ask?

“Houi Yamato,” Yamato actually decided to answer honestly.

His name was something they probably could find with ease, especially if they were under some organization that handled those monsters in some capacity. Asking around would unveil his oh so secret identity anyway, not that he had much to hide in this life.

Shoko raised her hand to signal his turn.

“What are sorcerers?” Yamato asked them for their identities.

“From there? So you don’t know about curse energy, cursed spirits and such?,” Yamato shook his head in denial, “Bummer,” Shoko frowned slightly as her raised hand with a pen and paper in it dropped down dejectedly in disappointment. 

Geto sat on the floor, hands on his chin as he went into deep thought, saying “So he isn’t a clan kid then. We won’t be getting much info out of him then.” 

“Maybe, but no loss in trying. Let’s see. Jujutsu Sorcerers, or sorcerers for short, are trained and mostly government employed individuals to defend humanity against cursed spirits and keep it away from turning into public knowledge. Most are descendants of sorcerer clans, but some are found as kids like you and raised in institutions that train sorcerers,” Shoko answered in her teacher-mode tone.

Before she could ask her question, Gojo interjected and asked,

“What’s your innate technique?”

“That’s rude Gojo, and I thought I was the one asking questions?”

“Aye aye captain.”

“Innate technique?”

“Right. Simply put, innate techniques are fairly unique abilities that manifest in most curse users. Using curse energy, these techniques cause some type of effect. I, by the way, don't have one. Do you want to answer idiot number one’s question?” Shoko explains.

“Hmm. I’m unsure if it’s an innate technique or not, but the ability I have, if I had to summarize it, is ‘copying’,” Yamato doesn’t entirely divulge his full capabilities.

“Copying?”

“Yes, I copy the techniques of those whose energy I come into contact with.”

“Woah, and you can use them yourself afterwards? Any restrictions?” Gojo is visibly impressed.

“Is that another question?”

“Cheeky brat. Sure. Answer and then ask two questions,” Gojo tilted his head to meet eyes from above his sunglasses.

“Then, yes, I can use them myself, though I obviously have restrictions. I’m no god after all,” yet, “The biggest is probably energy. Having tons of abilities doesn’t mean I can just spam them hail mary.”

“I guess those curse markings are the abilities then. You know, if I hadn’t known you were a human, I’d mistake you for a chimera-type curse spirit considering the horrendous chaos going on there. Each energy signal is unique, I assume from each curse spirit you’ve interacted with. I have to say, the number is staggering,” Gojo stares at Yamato’s covered arms.

Yamato cringed, not having a real response to that.

“Well, I looked around the rest of the school and found another bloodbath, though consisting only of cursed spirits this time. I assume you're responsible?”

“Yes.” A lee-way.

“Alright, your two questions.”

Looking back onto the conversation, Yamato activated his most used technique, “ノート/Note” that was bound to this left ring finger. It manifested itself as a notebook only he was privy to. 

A pen-like shadow converging into his hand, obscuring his hand from view, Yamato started writing on the empty pages. Having recorded their conversation so far, he raised his head to continue the interrogation, though it had turned into an information exchange by now.

“What are cursed spirits and the energy they and we use?”

Shoko looked at the veiled notebook with intrigue before answering.

“Oh, crucial questions indeed. Cursed spirits are incarnations of highly gathered cursed energy invisible to non-sorcerers. They are driven by the curse energy to haunt and bring harm to humanity,” motioning for Geto, the boy faced his palm up, a monster, much like those Yamato had gotten used to, crawled out of who-knows-where. He quickly closed his hand however, the monster, no, cursed spirit stored away somehow.

“Now, curse energy is basically the building blocks to it all. Without going into too much detail, it is a negative energy borne out of negative emotions.”

“Most are only able to see cursed spirits once they’ve accumulated a certain amount of curse energy, but it seems you’ve got quite a bit, if you can perceive the energy itself as well,” Geto adds.

“Even more than me. I can only see cursed spirits, not curse energy itself unless it's highly concentrated or used in a technique,” Shoko pouted in annoyance at having lost to a kid half her age.

“When did you awaken your innate technique?”

“When? Well, about two years ago maybe.”

“And you didn’t go around flaunting it?” Gojo asked.

“Hah, who would believe it?” Yamato let out a mocking chuckle.

“True that,” he chuckled along with him.

“Gojo,” Shoko now visibly pissed at having been interrupted in asking her own questions over and over again. 

“What is Jujutsu High?” Yamato asked, uncaring of their internal conflicts.

Sighing, Shoko could only begrudgingly answer.

“It’s one of two government-backed institutions I mentioned earlier, ours being the Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School. It is mostly a place for those without backing to learn and train to formally become a sorcerer. Those from clans like Gojo usually undergo training within their own walls; though exceptions exist.”

“Exception number one here,” Gojo pointed proudly at himself as he pushed up his sunglasses to cover his eyes.

“We are still students, but since personnel are always in shortage, the school sends out students on easier missions.”

“Define easier for me will you, little Shoko?” Geto mockingly raised the question.

“You guys don’t count. What high-schooler duo are normally grade 1 and special grade sorcerers in their second year? Most don’t graduate with a grade 2 rank or above.”

“Right, right. We are just so special after all. Right, Suguru?”

“Shut it, Satoru,” Geto tries to shut down Gojo’s growing ego.

Their banter lightened what little tension existed in the room. 

“What-,” Shoko was about to finally ask her question when a knock interrupted her mid-sentence.

Geto opening the door, a middle-aged man walked in with an exaggerated sigh.

“I hope you’ll give me an explanation for calling so late at night, and don’t say Gojo randomly picked the kid up from the streets. I have enough trouble already.”

“I wouldn't, Nakamura-san, and he’s an unaffiliated curse user. Didn’t know the existence of sorcerer society until just last night. Fix the paperwork, will you?” Gojo shamelessly threw the work at the newcomer.

“This is?” Yamato asks Shoko who is closest and still facing him.

“That's Nakamura-san, a personal gopher if you will,” Gojo answers.

“Hey Gojo, at least call him an assistant or manager. Yamato. He basically does what Gojo says but has a very important role, management and logistics and such, like making sure non-sorcerers aren't dragged into an ongoing battle and such to allow us sorcerers to take care of curses without added distractions,” Shoko corrects Gojo.

“Thank you Ieiri-san, you're the angel and saving grace in this group-”

“Hey,” Geto quips.

“-and Geto-kun, you are at least the saner of the two.”

Suppressing a laugh, Yamato meets eyes with Nakamura who had finished playing around.

“You know the protocols, any newly awakened are to be detained and not interacted with until I or another manager is on location.”

“Eh, don't sweat it. We were just getting a head start on the interrogation for ya. And he isn’t exactly newly awakened either. Seems he’s been under the radar for almost? Over two years?” Gojo looked over to Yamato.

“Almost. Haven’t kept an exact count but it should be two years in late-June, early-July,” Yamato said.

“See, so nothing wrong done, all good.” 

“Right. As if!” Nakamura returns.

“Alright, alright, Gojo. Stop raising his blood pressure. He’s already getting enough flack from the doctor about it,” Shoko waved her hands dismissively.

Nakamura flushed red and steam rose from his head, taking deep breath after deep breath, gradually calming himself. Coughing into his hand, he regained his calm and strict demeanor, fully ignoring Gojo’s attempts at riling him up again.

“Mr…,” they hadn't been introduced yet, “Houi Yamato, sir,” pleased with someone being reasonable and respectful, he continued, “Right. Mr. Houi, I will have to ask you a few questions, of which some, if not many, will be uncomfortable. But, they will be answered truthfully whether you like it or not unless you want to be labeled as a criminal and thrown into prison.”

“You have prisons for sorcerers?”

“We do?” Why does the trio sound surprised?

“Yes, though they are quite different from modern day prisons.”

Looking over at the trio, each looked almost as bewildered, apparently being in the unknown themselves.

“Well, most criminal cases are severe enough that they are sent straight to sealing or execution. The number of inmates can be counted in the dozens if not hundreds historically. Which says a lot considering the council’s been up and running for a thousand years give-or-take, and most of them were from when the prison was first established. I believe the last to be imprisoned was three decades ago,” Nakamura explained.

Well, I don't wanna go to prison, that’s for sure.

The students surprisingly, quietly gave Nakamura full reign of the scene, allowing him to proceed with his job. 

What followed was a one-sided Q&A where Yamato answered question after question for hours on end. The trio shuffled in and out of the room every now and then; Gojo only to be thrown out, Shoko with refreshments, and Geto to check in just in case.

With dawn, and the sun just on the cusp of peaking above the horizon, the interrogation session finished.

The process was needlessly long, questions repeating and winding in their articulation, all in the name of finding holes in his story. Nakamura might like it, or not, but protocol had to be followed, or so he said.

Yamato hadn't slept a wink all night, and what felt like both ages ago and just last minute, the life and death he experienced wasn't helping him relax. On edge all night, his adrenaline rushing in waves, exhaustion soon made its way forward.

Throughout the questioning, Shoko had entered for a prolonged period of time twice to check and heal Yamato’s body. Her injecting what she called positive energy was both energizing and energy sapping. Whatever she did boosted his regeneration, but also sucked out nutrients out of his rapidly replicating cells.

Ready to crash, as unwilling as he was, still in the midst of relative strangers, Yamato held on, ears perked, eyes sweeping back and forth, and mind sharp. Well, as sharp as he could maintain it.

Finished and the trio gathered up once again, Yamato wanted nothing more than to sleep, as well as answers to more and more of the questions that surfaced.

“All done?” Gojo asked Nakuamura with a yawn, who nodded in affirmation.

“Let's head back to Tokyo then. Been a while since we've been sent so far off.”

“What about me?” Yamato asks apprehensively.

“You’re coming with. Can’t exactly have a rogue curse-user roaming freely.”

“What about the orphanage? School?”

“Oh, the paperwork was dealt with during the interrogation. We have some pull in the government so it went smoothly enough.”

“So what, am I adopted now?”

“Kind of. Your guardian is Jujutsu High on paper, but we’ll have the details ironed out once we get there.”

Didn’t know institutes could become a human being’s legal guardian.

“Yeah, me neither,” Gojo answers as if to have read his mind with an uncaring shrug of his shoulders.

What followed was a three hour long trip on a shinkansen (A/N: High speed trains with speed records reaching 600 km/h - 375 mph - on test tracks. Those in service operate at about half that speed), all the way to central Tokyo. If it wasn’t for these circumstances, Yamato would’ve been a lot more excited about the prospects of being in the capital.

As much as he tried, Yamato failed to stay awake throughout the whole trip, lulled away to dreamland by the smooth train. Luckily, nothing unexpected occurred, Yamato being woken up by Shoko nudging him when they arrived.

They had to then take public transport until they came to a station where they were picked up by a black SUV. Not conspicuous at all.

Arriving at their final destination, Yamato couldn’t help but be impressed by the scenery. It was old-school with old wooden structures, shrines, gates, and walls. He was even more surprised when he got to learn that the whole mountain in front of him was property of the school.

“Welcome to Tokyo Jujutsu High, your new home, for now,” Shoko tried to appear encouraging as she led the group up the stairs leading up the mountain.

Nakamura parted ways with the group half way, excusing himself to resume his regular work. 

Finally reaching their goal, the four entered an empty classroom. It was empty. The trio sat themselves in what Yamato assumed were their regular seats considering the fact that there were only three desks in the room. Left alone and to himself, Yamato did the next best thing, jumped up on the teachers podium and sat on it, his legs dangling, his gaze out of the windows.

Some time later, maybe a half hour or so, a man slid open the classroom door, frozen in place at the door.

*Sigh* “Gojo, what did you do this time?”

“Hey teach, can you not assume it's my fault?”

“Then, whose is it?”

The others pointed at Gojo shamelessly, even Yamato joined in on the teasing.

“Oh come on,” Gojo growled in resignation.

“Someone willing to explain?” the man asked.

Shoko ended up giving the short version of what happened,  the man putting a hand on his face and sighing again.

“Fine, it wasn’t entirely your fault this time, Gojo,” he relents.

“So, why are you here then?”

“Well, what do we do about him?” Gojo points at Yamato.

“You hadn’t thought so far. Shoko?” Shoko shakes her head, “I’m surprised.”

“Well, it’s a person, a child no less we are talking about. I couldn’t exactly chuck him off to some official and hope he sees the light of day again. We both know how well he would be treated for being an ‘outsider’,” she explained.

“Fine. Family?”

“None.”

“Not even distant?”

“Orphan.”

“Great,” the man pinches the bridge of his nose in irritation.

“Well, get him a room at the dorm for now, might as well. Kid. We don’t have a plan for you yet, so you might as well join the first years to at least get the general knowledge of sorcerers down.”

“Anyways, are we done here?” Geto asks, having been nodding off for the past few minutes.

“Yes. Shoko, you give the kid a tour, the bare minimum. Remember that there’s school tomorrow. Dismissed,” the man leaves, having not entered the room at all since the beginning.

“So, who’s that?” Yamato asks as Gojo and Geto practically run out the classroom, leaving only Yamato and Shoko behind.

“He’s our homeroom teacher, Yaga Masamichi. It might turn hectic these first few days, meeting new people, and learning of a whole new world. Anyways, I’ll show you the classroom you’ll be in tomorrow and then the dorms. The rest you’ll learn during your stay here.”

The ‘tour’ was quick and Shoko left as soon as they arrived at his dorm room, looking exhausted.

“Sorry if I seem crass, Yamato. We’ve been active for almost a week with minimum sleep. And you can imagine how it is handling the idiots. See you,” Shoko pats his head and apologizes as Yamato’s dorm door is closed.

Ruffling his head, Yamato looks around the room. The room was surprisingly big, well, to his standards. He was expecting a similar environment to the orphanage, or any other college dorm from his memories. Instead, what he got was a full japanese-styled room furnished with a private toilet, table and bookshelf. In the wardrobe was a futon instead of a bed, and the window opened up to the forest; being on the second floor meant his view was filled with budding leaves.

The next day, Yamato woke up at sunrise, having slept for over 16 hours. Wearing the same clothes as what he had when he arrived, he left to the common room, mostly urged forward by his rumbling stomach. 

The room was empty, and he stopped himself from rooting around for food, as he hadn’t gotten permission yet. Knowing his place and only able to imagine the consequences, Yamato moved on to the classroom. 

The classroom was just as big and empty as the one Shoko, Gojo, and Geto attended. It had the teachers podium, two full-sized desks and one smaller in the back. The one in the back was obviously arranged for him to use.

With nothing to do and an unknown amount of time until class, Yamato sat down to meditate. His self-made meditation routine focused on sensing and manipulating his energy, what he later learned was called ‘curse energy’.

About two hours later, with his notebook conjured by one of his curse techniques in hand, three people walked into the classroom. Two boys and an adult man.

The three stopped momentarily as they noticed Yamato sitting alone in the back, head buried in an ominously smoking notebook.

“And you are?” The adult asked.

“Hmm?” Yamato raised his head, “I’m Houi Yamato, nice to meet you. I was told to be here today.”

“By who?”

“Really, he didn't pass on the info? Oh, well-”, Yamato muttered to himself, “Yaga-san told me to be here for class yesterday. Please, go ahead and check-in with him if you need to.”

“I will. Nanami, Haibara, keep an eye on him,” and he walks out.

The remaining three enter a staring competition, broken by the boy with a bowl-cut.

“Hey, I’m Haibara Yu, strange meetings,” he introduces himself with overwhelming positivity.

“Will you introduce yourself normally for once? I’m Nanami Kento, first-year together with Haibara,” the other boy, blonde hair cascading down his right side to his chin, grunted and introduced himself. 

“Hey, how old are you? Why are you here?” Haibara started, but was promptly pulled back by Nanami.

“Give him a break. We’ll probably get his profile by Higamatsu-sensei anyways,” Nanami said neutrally. He wasn’t unfriendly per se, just distant.

“Sorry, ‘bout him, he’s shy.”

“Am not!”

“Sure are,” they started nagging back and forth.

Not long after, their teacher, Higamitsu-sensei, rolled in, his expression telling a million tales.

“I’m not mad at you, Houi-kun. Yaga was whisked away by the elders last night and wasn’t able to send me a notice or anything about you. The second-years are out once again today, so I had to do it over the phone, but he did give me the quick summary. Let me get this right, and correct me if I get anything wrong. You awakened your innate technique two years ago, and only just now when you were involved in a cursed spirit case where the second-years were sent to tackle were you discovered. Then, you came with them here, and here you are?”

He sure talks.

“Yes. That’s the gist of it. I’m not a clan kid, as Geto-san said, and have no knowledge of this world. Yaga-san I assume wanted me here to at least get the general information down,” Higamitsu nodded.

“Well, you lucked out on when to join then. We started just last week, and that constituted mostly introductions and tests to see where they were in terms of combat, technique, and knowledge. We might have to do it for you as well if it comes down to it, but since we’ll mostly do theory from here on out, let’s wait for when the elders come to some decision of whether you’ll remain here long-term or not.”

Class was, well, just normal lessons. They had normal subjects like literature, history, science, and such during the morning. Of course, it was at the high-school level, and here, Yamato surprised them with his knowledge, able to follow and participate as well. He might be eight years old on the outside, but he was older on the inside.

When the lunch bell rang, they rearranged the room to create a single table in the center. Yamato assumed it would be school lunch, but no, they all pulled out their own lunch boxes. 

And so, Yamato sat there awkwardly, with empty hands.

“You don’t have food?” Nanami asks.

“Apparently not. Got dumped in the dormitory last night and nothing else; didn’t even know the time class started,” Yamato shrugs his shoulders with an awkward smile.

“Really, damn. Well, have some of mine then,” Haibara places the lid of his bento box and shares a portion. Following, both Nanami and Higamitsu silently did the same without saying anything.

“Thank you,” Yamato gives a small smile.

“Itadakimasu,” the three eat in silence.

Afternoon class was more sorcerer focused, though the practical aspects weren’t on the agenda for today. Most of it was what Yamato had been told about by Shoko, just more in depth.

Days flowed by as Yamato got accustomed to the new environment. The elders apparently got nowhere on his handling and ended up just having him at the school. Higamitsu tested him, clearing Yamato from having to undergo the torturous time of having to go through elementary and middle-school education. 

While his ‘classmates’, double his age, went out on missions, Yamato was left behind and given a martial arts teacher to hone primarily his hand-to-hand combat. So far, his fighting style entirely depended on instincts, and it needed to change. He was beaten for his reckless mistakes at first, leaving bruises that lasted for weeks, Kiri-sensei being the ever stoic perfectionist she was. Kiri-sensei was the homeroom teacher for the third-years, though it was empty for the moment. It was sadly pretty common that classes shrunk or emptied entirely as the years went by. Being a sorcerer wasn’t a peaceful job.

It was over three months later that Yamato got to interact with the second-years, aside from the occasional hand waves they exchanged as they left or returned from missions. Well, it was only Gojo and Geto. What about Shoko you may ask, well, she was apparently commissioned for another mission.

“Hey, brat. Your ‘かくれんぼ/hide-and-seek’, can it hide others?” Geto asks.

“Probably, as long as I am in contact, it should.”

“Great, you’re coming with us,” Gojo smirks.

“Huh?” Yamato is both surprised and confused at the sudden recruitment.

“Well, we really shouldn’t, but you know, surprise back-up,” Geto helplessly shrugs.

“What?”

“We’re going on an escort mission of someone very, very, important. We’re certain that people are gonna be after her, and they’re most likely gonna have information on us beforehand. Therefore, you’re our joker,” Gojo explains. Probably the longest Yamato’s heard him talk so far.

“I get to use my stealth set-up then, why not.”

“Oh, interesting, let’s go,” Gojo turns and walks out, followed by Geto.

XXX Extra XXX

Yaga had certainly learnt of the crazy in Gojo, but this was a new level. He brought a kid this time. Yaga’s tolerance and patience could only last so much, but since he’s a Gojo, the heir no less, well, he could only give in and adapt.

“Nakamura, report? Skip to the kid,” he tiredly asked of his long time friend and currently assistant manager of his students team.

“Well, he’s a monster alright. Orphaned as a newborn, the silent and calm type according to the matron. Thirty non-sorcerer deaths at incident of discovery. Only survival of a curse horde. Single-handedly killed over a hundred grade 4 and grade 3 cursed spirits before one-on-one taking down a semi-grade 2 cursed spirit by mutual destruction. Ieiri-san being close by ensured his survival. Unrecorded innate cursed technique, allowing for usage of many, if not inferior versions, of other cursed techniques. Restrictions are yet to be determined entirely,” Nakamura gives a concise summary of the incident and Yamato.

“Let’s hope the elders don’t determine him as a threat and whisk him away,” Yaga sighs as he gathers the report he had to give to the elders.

“Trouble after trouble. At least it’s one that can end up good. Not all bad one’s,” Nakamura tries to console the troubled teacher.

“Well, let’s get over this meeting first.”

The two shared knowing glances as they parted, one for a long needed rest, the other to a night long fight with the elders.

“I’m not paid enough for this,” another sigh escapes as he closes the door to the council.