The "little kid" Mahito jumped down from the beach chair and stepped barefoot onto the slightly hot sand. He raised his delicate yet alluring little face, looked at the silent Jogo, then at Hanami, who stood still like a tree, and the last trace of hesitation and calculation in his heterochromatic eyes was replaced by a purer, more burning desire.
"Alright, alright," Mahito clapped his small hands together, brushing off non-existent sand, his voice returning to the innocence of a child, but the content was diametrically opposite. "It doesn't matter whether that Naraku is alive or not, whether she can be useful, and regardless of what Sukuna thinks..."
He stood on tiptoe, stretching his tiny body, his bones making a faint, unpleasant crackling sound.
"Getting stronger is the ultimate truth," he tilted his head and smiled brightly, but his words were cold and piercing. "Always thinking about relying on others and calculating... How boring."
He took two steps forward, facing the sea, and spread his arms wide, as if to embrace the infinite wind and waves.
"I feel..." Mahito narrowed his eyes slightly, the blue of his left eye and the amber of his right flickering strangely in the sunlight. "My Idle Transfiguration is far from reaching its limit. No, I could even say it hasn't even touched the threshold of 'real fun' yet."
He turned and looked at his two companions, his voice full of excitement:
"It's too boring just playing with the souls of ordinary people and transforming low-level cursed spirits. It's as wasteful as using the best brushes to scribble."
"I need... a harder 'canvas,' more complex 'paint,' a stronger 'will to resist'!"
Mahito's voice gradually rose, with a kind of ecstasy, as if he had discovered a new toy. "I need to find those powerful sorcerers! Grade 1, Special Grade! Those guys whose souls struggle on the edge of life and death, filled with a vibrant cursed light!"
"What wonderful forms will their souls take in their extreme states? Their fears, their beliefs, their madness... What 'inspiration' will this bring to my technique?"
"Fight! Learn in battle, evolve in killing, and create in destruction!" Mahito's eyes burned with almost artistic fanaticism. "That's the only way to stimulate my potential! Fujiwara-sama's plan, the life and death of Naraku, Sukuna's goal... That's too far away. Right now, I just want to satisfy my own 'curiosity' and... creative desire."
Having said that, without waiting for a response from Jogo and Hanami, the surface of his body suddenly rippled like water waves. The clear sound of bones stretching, the rustle of muscle fibers multiplying, and the soft sound of skin stretching... In just two or three seconds, the silver-haired, barefoot "little kid" grew like a time-lapse plant, rapidly growing and solidifying, returning to the slender young man with an alluring face and loose clothes.
The Mahito, returned to his adult form, flexed his neck, a satisfied and dangerous smile playing on his face. He casually waved his hand towards Jogo and Hanami.
"So, I'll take a step first~ By the way, find something 'fun'... Add a few worthy collection pieces to my 'portfolio'."
As soon as he finished speaking, his figure seemed to dissolve into the sea breeze and water vapor, suddenly becoming blurry and transparent, and finally disappearing from the beach, leaving only a slightly sunken sand trace and a lingering, cold soul fluctuation.
Jogo looked in the direction Mahito had disappeared, the fire in his eye flickering, and finally just let out a rumbling sound, releasing a small cloud of black smoke mixed with sparks, and muttered: "Let him go... that madman."
Hanami stood quietly, the petals of the fluorescent flower in his hand silently falling, landing in the sand, quickly washed away by the waves, disappearing without a trace.
---
At the same time — Tokyo Jujutsu High — a secluded courtyard behind the training ground.
The afterglow of the setting sun painted the bluestone slabs and the green trees in the courtyard with a warm golden edge.
Yuji Itadori stood in the center of the courtyard, the hair on his forehead wet with sweat, sticking to his forehead, his sportswear covered with patches of dust and sweat—clearly indicating the end of an intense solo training session. He was slightly out of breath, but his blue eyes were unusually bright and determined, staring directly at Zen'in Genji, who was leisurely sitting in the veranda drinking tea not far ahead.
"Lord Zen'in Genji," Itadori wiped the sweat from his face, his voice slightly rising and falling from heavy breathing, but his tone was very serious. "I... I feel like I'm not strong enough. Not nearly enough."
Genji held a white porcelain teacup, the rising steam blurring his deep indigo eyes. He gently blew on the tea foam and didn't answer immediately, just motioned for Itadori to continue.
"Last time at the Youth Palace... Although it was resolved in the end, I felt it," Itadori clenched his fists, his knuckles slightly white from the pressure. "I rely too much on Sukuna. When facing a truly powerful opponent, like that special-grade cursed spirit, like the enemies you and Gojo-sensei face, my own strength is completely insufficient."
He looked up with burning eyes: "I don't want to have to rely on Sukuna's power every time I'm in danger, or wait for someone to rescue me. I don't want to hold my companions back because I'm not strong enough, putting Kugisaki and Fushiguro in danger."
"And most importantly," Itadori took a deep breath, expressing his deepest concern. "I can't afford to rely on Sukuna's power. The more I owe him, the harder it will be to get rid of him later. I have to rely on my own strength to become strong enough, strong enough that I don't need to 'borrow' anything from him, so I can protect those I want to protect and solve the problems that need to be solved!"
Genji listened quietly and carefully set his teacup down on the low table beside him. His deep indigo eyes fell on Itadori's face, which seemed especially bright due to his determination, and he inexplicably nodded, a complex, almost "precisely" look flashing in his eyes.
In his memory, the Yuji Itadori of the original timeline borrowed Sukuna's power, which temporarily resolved crises but also buried a huge curse. That binding became a weakness that Sukuna later exploited, eventually leading to Sukuna forcibly cutting off his finger and feeding it to Megumi Fushiguro, attempting to complete a tragedy of becoming flesh and blood.
Although the Itadori before him had survived the Youth Palace crisis and witnessed the horror of Sukuna taking control of his body, his sincerity and desire to rely on himself to become stronger remained the same as in his "memory," and even became clearer and stronger due to the existence and awakening of Zen'in Genji.
"Very good," Genji spoke slowly, his voice calm but with a power that pierced through appearances. "Acknowledging your shortcomings, clarifying your motivation to become stronger, and not pinning your hopes on a dangerous 'foreign object'—that's the right starting point."
His gaze seemed to pierce through Itadori's body, seeing the astonishing potential hidden beneath the "perfect vessel" that even Itadori himself might not be fully aware of.
In Genji's mind, another picture even emerged—a more distant "future." The sequel of Jujutsu Kaisen, a world decades later, integrating Black Flash into daily life like breathing, and the Yuji Itadori sharply commented on by countless netizens as the "Tiger Emperor." Even Sukuna and Satoru Gojo could only be considered the Tiger Emperor's claws.
This "Itadori" is a monster who has gone through countless desperate battles, tempered by blood and fire, truly unleashing his talents to the extreme.
"What you lack most right now," Genji stood up, walked into the courtyard, stood opposite Itadori, his voice clearly echoing in the twilight. "Is combat. A sufficient number of high-quality, life-and-death battles."
"Your physical abilities, your adaptability, and your tolerance for cursed energy are top-notch. What you lack is the process and experience of 'translating' that talent into combat effectiveness." He paused and explained. "The growth of sorcerers, especially in systems where talent is the absolute core, often doesn't require a long process of grinding. Enlightenment, breakthroughs between life and death, instinctive mastery in battle... those are the fastest paths."
"Yuta Okkotsu is the best example. From first entering the jujutsu world to becoming a special-grade sorcerer, he didn't need much time."
"This is the path of a sorcerer, especially a gifted one. Of course, theory, reflection, and step-by-step practice are necessary, but real transformations often occur amidst lightning and fire. Your talent is enough to support you on this most radical and efficient path."
"So," Genji raised his hand and pointed towards the training ground, where traces of Itadori's frantic training still seemed to linger. "Don't get stuck and don't be patient. You need to constantly and actively seek battles, face powerful enemies, and push yourself to the limit. Every near-death experience, every desperate counterattack, will make your soul and body 'evolve' in a way visible to the naked eye."
"Until you stop fighting," Genji's voice held a flat certainty, as if stating a fact that was bound to happen. "Soon, a domain, Black Flash, and your own technique... those peaks that others seem to need a lifetime to surmount will naturally become part of your power in the flow of battle."
The setting sun had completely sunk below the horizon, and the last afterglow stretched the shadows of Genji and Itadori very long.
Yuji Itadori stood there, digesting Genji's words. The confusion in his eyes gradually turned into a clear, determined, and even burning light. He nodded vigorously and bowed deeply to Genji.
"I understand! Thank you, Lord Zen'in Genji!"
"I will go fight! Fight without stopping! Get stronger!"
"Don't worry, I'll give you the fight you want."
"Huh?"