The silence in the wake of Yuji Itadori's death was a physical thing. It was a crushing, absolute void where a moment before there had been the roar of a king and the frantic, desperate energy of a battle for survival. The Innate Domain had collapsed, spitting us back out into the mundane, concrete reality of the juvenile detention center's courtyard. The setting sun painted the sky in sickeningly beautiful shades of orange and purple, a glorious backdrop to our utter and complete failure.
Nobara was on her knees, her face a mask of shocked, angry disbelief, tears cutting clean tracks through the grime on her cheeks. Megumi was a wreck, cradling Yuji's body, his shoulders shaking with raw, silent sobs of grief and self-loathing. He was muttering Yuji's name over and over again, a broken mantra of regret.
And I… I just stood there, my body a single, throbbing ache from the strain of my Incomplete Domain, my Cursed Energy reserves scraped down to the bone. I wasn't surprised. That was the most horrific part. I had known this was coming. I had seen the panels from my past life's manga playing out in my mind for years. I knew that Yuji Itadori "died" here.
But knowing a thing and seeing a thing are two vastly different realities. The sterile black and white of a manga page had done nothing to prepare me for the sickening, final sound a body makes when its soul is extinguished. Reading about a character's sacrifice is a world away from watching the bright, kind, infuriatingly optimistic boy you've come to know collapse with a gaping hole in his chest, his last words a quiet apology to you.
My horror was not one of surprise. It was the horror of dreadful, inevitable confirmation. And it was twisted with a new, deeply personal guilt. In the original story, Yuji's hand was cut off, and he made his choice out of a desperate, noble selflessness. In this version, I had intervened. I had been "useful." I had defeated the Special Grade myself, saving everyone from that initial threat. But my very power, the conceptual weight of my Domain, had provoked the slumbering king. I had traded one problem for a far greater one. I hadn't prevented the tragedy; I had simply changed the script, casting myself as the unwilling catalyst. My attempt to be a hero had, in the end, made me feel like the architect of my friend's death. This was the burden of my foreknowledge: not just to see the future, but to understand my own terrible part in making it real.
The wail of sirens grew closer, and the harried form of Ijichi-san appeared at the edge of the courtyard, his face turning ashen as he took in the scene: three traumatized students, one unconscious, and the lifeless body of Sukuna's vessel.
And then, the world stopped.
The air grew heavy, the space beside me seeming to fold in on itself. Satoru Gojo was there. He hadn't run, he hadn't teleported in a flash of blue. He had simply arrived, stepping out of nothingness. He was still in his casual travel attire, having clearly come straight from the airport. He took in the entire, horrific tableau in a single, silent sweep of his Six Eyes.
He saw Nobara's tears, Megumi's grief, my exhausted, guilt-ridden stance. And he saw the body of Yuji Itadori.
His usual, infuriating grin was gone. The air around him became so cold and so dense with pressure that it felt hard to breathe. The playful, chaotic teacher was gone, replaced by the cold, absolute entity that had been born the day he died.
His blindfolded gaze fell upon me, and there was a silent question in it. What happened?
Before I could answer, a voice, dripping with the condescending authority of the old guard, echoed from the entrance. "So, this is the result of your little experiment, Gojo." Principal Gakuganji of the Kyoto school stood there, flanked by several other elderly sorcerers. The higher-ups. They had arrived like vultures to pick at the corpse. "The vessel is dead. A predictable but fortunate outcome. We will take the body for immediate disposal, as per protocol."
Satoru didn't even look at them. "Get lost," he said, his voice dangerously quiet.
"This is not a matter for debate," Gakuganji insisted. "The vessel is a threat even in death. It must be properly…"
"I said," Satoru repeated, turning his head slowly, the sheer, unrestrained killing intent rolling off him in waves that made the air shimmer, "get lost. Or I will dispose of you."
The old men flinched. They were powerful, respected sorcerers, but they were nothing against the absolute power of the man before them. They grumbled, but they retreated, leaving us in a tense, vibrating silence.
Satoru walked over to Yuji's body. He knelt, his Six Eyes analyzing the wound, the flow of Cursed Energy, the state of the soul within. He then looked up at me. "Aki. Report."
I took a shaky breath. "I used an Incomplete Domain to defeat the Special Grade. The conceptual nature of it… it provoked Sukuna. He emerged. He was… intrigued by my technique. He toyed with me. When Yuji fought back for control, Sukuna ripped out his heart to spite him, and then returned control."
I confessed it all. My gambit, my victory, and the catastrophic consequence. Satoru listened, his expression unreadable. He didn't blame me. He simply absorbed the information, his brilliant mind processing every detail.
Satoru listened, his expression unreadable. He didn't blame me. He simply processed the information, the gears of his brilliant mind turning at impossible speeds. He stood up, a grim, calculated plan already forming behind his eyes. He turned to the two grieving first-years.
"Megumi. Nobara," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "The mission is over. Yuji is… gone. The higher-ups wanted his body, but I refused. Out of respect for a student who died a hero, I will handle his final arrangements personally."
His words were a eulogy and a dismissal. He was giving them official closure, a clean end to the horror.
"Go back to the school with Ijichi," he commanded, his tone softening slightly but remaining firm. "Get Shoko to look you over. Grieve. Rest. That's an order."
Nobara let out a choked sob but nodded, too broken to argue. Megumi looked from Yuji's body to Satoru, his eyes full of a silent, desperate plea. But he saw the finality in our teacher's expression and knew the discussion was over. He had to accept it. With one last, shattered look at his first real friend, he allowed Ijichi to lead him and Nobara away.
The moment they were gone, the atmosphere shifted. Satoru turned to me, his expression all business. "Aki. You're with me."
======
The morgue beneath Jujutsu High was a place of profound silence and cold, sterile dread. Yuji's body lay on a steel table under a harsh, white light. Shoko had just finished her examination, her face grim.
"He's dead, Satoru," she confirmed, pulling off her gloves. "No heartbeat, no brain activity, no Cursed Energy from the host. By every metric we have, Yuji Itadori is gone."
"Thanks, Shoko," Satoru said. "Can you give us a minute?"
She looked at him, then at me, then back at the body. She understood this was something beyond medicine. She nodded and left, the heavy door sealing us inside with the dead.
"Aki," Satoru began, his voice low. "You saw it with your eyes. When he died, Sukuna's soul was still inside, correct? Trapped?"
"Yes," I confirmed. "It's dormant, but it's still bound to his body. It didn't escape."
"Good," he said, a flicker of triumph in his eyes. "Then the gamble is still on the table." He walked over and stood beside Yuji's body. He spoke to the corpse, his voice clear and resonant. "Yuji-kun. I know you can't hear me. But if there's a sliver of you left, listen. You can come back. But it will mean your life is no longer your own. You will live in the shadows, train until you break, and your death will be a foregone conclusion. But you will have the power to save a lot of people. So, what's it going to be?"
We waited. The silence was absolute. One second. Ten. Thirty. Nothing. A cold knot of fear tightened in my chest. What if I had been wrong? What if my intervention had changed the outcome permanently? What if Sukuna's spite had been the final, irrevocable word?
And then, I saw it. A spark.
My Stygian Eyes perceived it before any other sense could. A tiny, almost imperceptible mote of golden, positive energy bloomed in the center of Yuji's chest. The gaping wound, which Shoko had only cosmetically closed, began to knit itself together from the inside out. New flesh, new muscle, a new heart, all woven from Cursed Energy.
With a massive, shuddering gasp, Yuji Itadori's eyes shot open. He sat bolt upright on the table, clutching his chest, his breath coming in ragged, panicked heaves. He looked at his hands, then at us, his expression one of dazed, terrified confusion.
He was alive.
The relief was so potent it buckled my knees. The weight of my guilt, the feeling that I had personally executed him, vanished, leaving me light-headed. Satoru let out a loud, relieved laugh.
"Welcome back, Yuji-kun," he grinned.
Yuji looked at him, "What... what happened? I was... dead. I felt it. How am I alive?"
"Looks like you've got a Cursed Spirit's luck, Yuji-kun. Sukuna must have healed you on a whim to keep his precious vessel from kicking the bucket. Don't expect him to be so generous next time." Satoru nodded. "Which brings us to the new plan." He became serious again, his gaze sharp. "As of this moment, to the rest of the Jujutsu world, including your classmates, Yuji Itadori is dead. This gives us the time and secrecy I need to train you properly, to make you strong enough to control Sukuna and to be the weapon we need you to be."
He then turned to me. His expression was heavy, the weight of his next words a burden he was about to place squarely on my shoulders.
"Aki. Your role in this is now the hardest one. You are the only other student who knows he is alive. While I am training Yuji in secret, you must return to the others. You must pretend to grieve with them. You must lie to Megumi, to Nobara, to your classmates. You must be their anchor in this tragedy, and you must use their grief to push them to become stronger. It's a terrible, heavy burden." He looked me straight in the eyes. "Can you handle it?"
I thought of Megumi's shattered expression, of Nobara's angry tears. Lying to them, my closest friends, felt like a betrayal. But it was a necessary one. A deception to protect them, to protect Yuji, to protect the world. It was my duty.
I met my brother's gaze, my own resolving into hard, crimson certainty. "I can," I said.
"Good," he said with a nod.
I looked at Yuji, who was slowly processing the fact that he had died and been resurrected into a secret life. I walked over and offered him a hand, pulling him to his feet.
"Welcome back, Itadori-kun," I said, a small, determined smile on my face. "The real training starts now."
He looked at my hand, then at my face, and his own expression hardened with a new resolve. He had been given a second chance, and he wasn't going to waste it.
=======
I left them there, the resurrected boy and the strongest sorcerer, a secret alliance that would shape the future. I walked out of the morgue, schooling my features into a mask of somber grief, practicing the lie I would have to live for the foreseeable future. I found Megumi and Nobara in the common room, sitting in a stunned, broken silence.
My heart ached. I was an oracle, a keeper of secrets, a pillar of a grand deception. And as I sat down with my grieving friends, ready to play my part, I had never felt more alone.