Sora had increased his vigilance around his surroundings.
The cursed spirit ambush last month had been a close call.
If he had killed the curse directly at the dining table, he might have lost his family.
Cursed spirits born around the orphanage and the temple were dealt with by him. Not the strong ones—he was still only a Grade 3 sorcerer.
However, there was a silver lining.
He had managed to create a technique for concealment.
The liquid metal resided in his skin. It could also travel inward or stick to the surface of his skin.
So he created a thin layer across his body, blocking cursed energy from showing outwards.
A nifty trick to make himself look ordinary.
Currently, he was walking back from elementary school.
Not a great experience. Dealing with children was not peaceful.
However, one good thing did happen.
He saw sorcerers subduing a cursed spirit inside a veil.
Two of them, actually.
Good news: he didn't need to do all the work.
Bad news: they were not Jujutsu High sorcerers.
Unknown adults with a crest around the collar.
Clan sorcerers of either the Zenin or Kamo clan.
Sora arrived in front of the orphanage.
He entered the building and placed his shoes at the entrance.
He rushed to his bed, dropped his small bag against the wall, and rushed back out again.
He came and went as fast as the wind.
Sora was calm and steady in most situations, but he was insecure when the matter involved cursed energy and sorcery.
He did not have a deep reserve, nor did he possess an overpowered, reality-warping innate technique.
Compared to Sukuna or Satoru, he was incomparable.
But he couldn't stop now—unless he wanted to become a victim of the dangers brought by the big shots of the Jujutsu world.
Sora began his usual training: practicing control and experimenting with new techniques.
—3 hours later—
Sora lay on the ground, huffing and puffing.
Not only his cursed technique but also his physical strength had been pushed past their limits.
Sora gazed at the darkened sky and decided to head home.
Since he had a clean reputation for not causing trouble and behaving well, the caretakers usually didn't worry about him.
Sora's thoughts wandered toward a certain pair of siblings in the Zenin clan.
In the show, they weren't liked in the clan.
The same probably held true here as well.
He made a silent note to meet them—and to help them.
Helping people was a nice thing.
---
The road leading back to the orphanage curved past the old shrine before slipping into one of Kyoto's quieter neighborhoods. The houses stood close together there, and streetlights blinked on one by one as evening fully settled in. The sky had deepened into a rich violet, and the air carried the faint scent of wet stone after the day's humidity.
Sora walked along with his hands tucked into his pockets. His posture looked loose and casual—relaxed enough that anyone passing by would assume he didn't have a single worry in his head.
Which, of course, wasn't true.
Training earlier had burned through most of his cursed energy, leaving him a little drained. Still, the metal beneath his skin felt strangely alert, like a quiet animal resting but never truly asleep.
He turned the corner by a narrow alley and nearly kept walking.
Nearly.
Because something caught his attention.
Someone was standing beneath the streetlight ahead.
A man in his twenties—maybe older. Tall, with a straight posture. He wore dark traditional clothing that didn't quite match the casual evening atmosphere around him. But it wasn't the clothing that caught Sora's attention.
It was the crest stitched near the collar.
Sora slowed a little, his eyes half-lidded as he looked.
Clan.
Zenin… or Kamo.
The man continued walking north with steady confidence, like someone who already knew exactly where he was headed.
Sora watched him pass.
Then he let out a quiet sigh.
"…This is why my life refuses to stay peaceful."
After a moment, he turned and followed.
Not close enough to look suspicious. Not far enough to lose track.
Just another kid walking down the same street.
The man never once looked back.
They passed street after street until the houses began to thin out and the roads widened. Northwest Kyoto felt different compared to the shrine districts—quieter, more open, the kind of place where people shut their doors early and the streets emptied fast.
The sorcerer now entered a rural section near the urban area.
Sora frowned slightly.
Northwest Kyoto… why here?
Then the man stopped.
It wasn't dramatic. Just a small pause in his steps before he walked forward again.
And disappeared.
Sora froze mid-step.
"…Ah."
The air ahead shimmered faintly.
Most people would have seen nothing at all.
But to Sora, cursed energy rippled across the road like heat rising from hot pavement.
A veil.
Not very large—probably meant to hide something like a small curse exorcism.
He wandered over to a vending machine across the street and leaned against it, pretending to look through the drink options.
"Clan sorcerers setting up their own veil," he murmured quietly. "Either they don't want civilians getting in the way… or they don't want other sorcerers getting in the way."
And just like that, his curiosity turned into a problem.
Because curiosity, unfortunately, tended to beat common sense.
"Just a quick look," he muttered.
Sora crouched down casually and pretended to tie his shoe.
At the same time, a thin thread of liquid silver slipped out from beneath his sleeve.
The metal flowed across the pavement like spilled mercury, hugging the shadows so closely that even a trained eye might mistake it for nothing more than reflected light.
Slow.
Careful.
The thin probe reached the edge of the veil.
The barrier resisted slightly, but it took only a small push to slip through.
Then the liquid slid past the veil.
Sora lowered his eyelids slightly.
Through the metal, his perception shifted. The view was warped but still clear enough—shapes moving, bodies standing, cursed energy signatures glowing faintly.
Inside the veil stood the clan sorcerer he had followed.
Behind him, another sorcerer was present.
But something else caught his eye.
An ancient Japanese-style house.
Then it clicked.
Maybe the veil wasn't hiding an exorcism.
Maybe it was hiding the main household.
The metal thread crept a little farther.
That's when the second sorcerer stopped speaking.
His hand shot toward the location of the liquid metal. A ball of cursed energy formed in his hand.
Then—bam!
It launched toward the metal thread, destroying part of it.
Sora reacted quickly and retracted the remaining liquid.
The sorcerer tilted his head slightly.
Slowly… he looked down.
Directly toward the ground.
Toward the thin metal residue.
"Hmm," the man inside the veil said calmly. "Something's crawling around."
Sora's eyes snapped open.
"…Well."
Outside the veil, the silver thread instantly snapped back like a recoiling wire, racing across the pavement and disappearing back into his sleeve.
Sora stood up slowly.
"…That was fast."
Inside the veil, the second sorcerer crouched and touched the spot where the metal had been.
His eyes narrowed.
"It's some sort of cursed liquid."
The first man frowned slightly.
"Someone spying?"
"Maybe."
Outside the barrier, Sora scratched the back of his head and started walking away at a perfectly normal pace.
"Right," he muttered quietly. "Lesson learned."
He paused for a second.
"…Next time I should send less metal."