Part I: The Order
"Naoya-sama," said a firm voice from behind the sliding door, "Naobito-sama awaits you in the main hall."
The wood slid smoothly open as Naoya pushed open the panel. He wore a dark haori with hand-embroidered gold details, and his steps were quiet but confident. There was no arrogance in his gait, only the absolute confidence of one who knows he is standing on ground that belongs to him.
The hall was dimly lit. Naobito Zen'in sat in the center, sipping sake with the slowness of someone in no hurry to live. Beside him, one of the clan elders held a rolled scroll.
"You've caused quite a stir lately, boy," Naobito said with his trademark sarcastic smile, raising an eyebrow. "So I thought I'd give you a distraction... something worthy of you."
Naoya didn't reply. He just waited, his eyes narrowed, his arms crossed.
"A spirit of higher rank one," the old man chimed in. "His name is Yashiro, a residual entity that evolved from multiple failed exorcisms. According to our reports, he's very close to ascending to special rank. He's hiding in the ruins of an ancient village, south of Nara."
"Will you allow me to eliminate him alone?" Naoya asked calmly, but his sharp tone betrayed enthusiasm.
"There are no reinforcements," Naobito said, smiling. "And don't tell anyone, but if you die, less trouble for me."
Naoya smiled arrogantly.
"I won't die, Grandfather. I'm just hunting."
Part II: Road to Hell
The sun was barely rising when he climbed into the clan vehicle. The servant in charge of driving, an old but skilled man, lowered his head in silence and started the car. During the journey, Naoya just stared out the window.
A single thought echoed in his mind:
"I've become complacent… I've relied too much on my time-skip technique and my speed. If I face someone like Gojo, or even Touji… I won't win. I have to fully master my Domain Expansion. Today will be a test of that."
Then he remembered what he'd planned: to enter the Kyoto school the following year, at fifteen. The Tokyo school seemed hopeless to him, with too many ties to Gojo. But in Kyoto, he'd have freedom… and when the exchange tournament came, then he'd face the Six-Eyed prodigy.
"Naoya-sama… we've arrived," the servant announced.
They descended in front of a withered forest, its branches seeming to implore the heavens. The ruins of the village emerged in the background, gray, corroded by the curse. The presence of the cursed energy was suffocating.
Naoya adjusted his combat uniform and walked firmly into the darkness.
Part III: Yashiro's Trial
The creature was waiting for him. The air grew denser as Naoya delved deeper into the ruins. A deathly silence fell over the place… until a deep, raspy voice emerged from the shadows.
"You smell like Zen'in… but you're not like the others. You're more rotten."
Naoya frowned.
"And you smell like someone who's about to die."
From the rubble emerged Yashiro, a grotesque figure with multiple arms and fused faces. There were eyes in his chest, mouths in his abdomen, and a mass of twisted bones on his back. His energy was suffocating, fluctuating, unstable like a pot about to explode.
"Do you know how many exorcists have died here? Fourteen." One of them begged for his mother before he ripped out his tongue.
Naoya disappeared from sight.
He appeared right behind the spirit at 24 frames per second, with a palm strike straight to the side.
But Yashiro intercepted him with one of her serpentine arms. The collision released a wave of energy. They both recoiled.
"Fast..." Yashiro murmured, "but no faster than my hatred."
The fight erupted into a violent dance. Naoya used his constant-speed technique, appearing and disappearing like a heartbeat. Punch after punch, kick after kick. But Yashiro was resilient, adaptable, and each of his cursed limbs seemed to move with its own intelligence.
"Cursed Technique: Half-Second Jump," Naoya whispered.
He activated his time-skip-inspired technique. Time slid by like jelly. He struck twelve times in the blink of an eye, shattering several arms and leaving the spirit trembling.
"ENOUGH!" Yashiro roared. "OPEN YOUR EYES!"
And a shower of cursed nails emerged from his back like projectiles.
Naoya dodged several, but one ripped into his shoulder. His smile faded for a second… only to reappear with even more savage intensity.
"That's it? Then he dies seeing the time palace."
He placed a hand in front of him.
—Domain: Time Cell Moon Palace.
Space folded. Everything turned white and light blue. A giant astronomical clock emerged in the distorted sky, surrounded by spheres rotating at different speeds. The spirit was trapped in an invisible cell where time fluctuated against it.
"Here you are, trapped in my time, trash," Naoya said. "Every second that passes for me is three for you. Do you know what that means?"
Yashiro screamed in pain as Naoya began to move without him being able to keep up. It was a surgical execution, swift and ruthless.
Blows to the eyes, fractures to the limbs, pressure on the vital points. Finally, the final blow: a fist reinforced with cursed energy straight to the center of his core.
Yashiro collapsed. His form distorted, and before disappearing, he spoke:
"You are not human… you are a mirror that will shatter… when it sees its reflection."
Naoya watched it disintegrate. Then he deactivated the domain and took a deep breath.
"Reflection or not, there is only one truth: the weak disappear."