Chapter 66
Jiki caught the fleeting emotion in Tengen's gaze, wistfulness.
A baby's cry pierced the air, and the scene shifted abruptly. They were now in a bar, dimly lit and intimate. In the corner, Jiki noticed a woman with straw-blonde hair. Her presence was unmistakable. Despite the shift in appearance, the cursed energy signature confirmed it—this was Tengen.
"This is where it all began," the four-eyed figure beside him murmured. "Our ill-fated relationship."
...
Tengen had met him in a bar, funny enough, a soji bar. She had been dressed in her trademark white, featureless kimono and had just finished teaching one of her sermons on Buddhism and cursed energy, when the man had walked in.
A man with a twisted and malicious cursed energy signature. She squinted at him from across the room, but his face was hidden by a wide-brimmed rattan hat. After a few long seconds, where he simply sat and drank from his cups, Tengen turned away.
Her attention drifted back to her brush and paper. A bar was hardly the best place to sit down and write profound texts on the truth about jujutsu, sorcery, cursed energy, and the natural calamities that were cursed spirits, yet somehow she found the low hum and buzz of an active environment helped her put her words into thoughts better.
Even as she jotted down her plans and teachings for her next... class, she still kept track of time and her environment, so when someone spoke up and interrupted her, she almost flung her brush in the man's face out of sheer surprise.
"You made a mistake there."
She twitched as she looked up. It was the same man. Kimono so dark it was almost ink-like, this close she could see his features clearer. He looked more Chinese than Japanese, yet considering the Chinese had not fully lost their grip on their small island nation, it was no big surprise.
The man tilted his hat up a bit, revealing more of his face, yet hiding anything above his eyes. Then he gave her a warm smile that hid those same eyes. When he opened them and saw her look of suspicion remained, he pointed down at her jotting. "Curses are sapient." He tilted his head in thought for a second then added. "At least they can grow to be."
Her suspicion eased, yet her frown remained. "I assume you can see them too, then."
"Of course, I'm sure you can sense my cursed energy."
She frowned as she attempted to sense it again. "It's... twisted."
Those simple words formed a crack in his façade, and his smile almost slipped. Back then, he had not been the effortless manipulator; he had simply been a bored man with a penchant for disguises and masks.
"I see... I'll make sure to hide that better. But back to your writing..." He trailed off leadingly, an eyebrow raised, and Tengen let out a sigh as she replied.
"I do not see how they can be sapient. They are simply end products of the excess negative energy released by humans. I understand they can be stronger or weaker, depending on the location, the quality of cursed energy, and simple fate or luck, yet that's all they are. Sentient perhaps, but not sapient. They're just spiritual wild animals-"
The man tutted in response, shutting her up. "How many have you fought?"
She huffed in response, turning away. "That's an act left for you barbarians that love to swing your fists so much."
"Ah, but I've been to a few of your teachings. Enough fundamentals of cursed energy are implemented into them to help combat curses as well, even if it's mostly experimental and contemporary. It is still more insightful than anyone else has come to in this time."
Her face burned in response to the praise, but she hurriedly shifted the topic back on course. "What does that have to do with these hypothetical sapient cursed spirits you speak of?"
The man sipped his drink before speaking. "I'm sure you're aware of the scale and difference in power between cursed spirits. Minor, formed, and area cursed spirits. Those are the most common, but if you've walked the earth long enough, you would meet others. The named cursed spirits, those that have transcended and gained sapience, and the gods. Those that have transcended sapience and returned to the cycle, thereby losing their sense of self,. Purity in a way."
Tengen listened, eyes wide, as she learned more in that conversation than she had in many years. At this point, she was over two hundred years old and had assumed she was the oldest sorcerer in existence, yet her discussion with the man in black laid low that belief. For here was someone who seemed more experienced yet younger.
After that conversation, many others were had in that bar. Every few weeks, after a couple of her teachings and sermons were over, she rushed back to the bar to spitball ideas with her still unnamed friend and partner. Very rarely, he came back to the bar with injuries—the life of a sorcerer that actually fought. Yet it wasn't until the day halfway into their conversation, when he lifted up a cup and his hands shook so severely that it slipped from his grip and fell to the floor, that Tengen realized how much time had passed.
She looked at his face mid-conversation and suddenly saw the wrinkles. His eyes were blurry and milky. His limbs were thin and emaciated, yet the way he carried himself remained the same. That lack of fear, hesitation, or even a single worry in the world. Complete confidence in himself.
"You're old!" she blurted out in surprise, and her unnamed friend let out a rasping laugh in response.
"How kind of you to notice, and you look as beautiful and young as ever."
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize. I—"
He waved her off easily as he gently shook his head in a chiding motion, his long white hair moving in the wind. "It is no big surprise. You've been busy spreading your teachings, especially with the new idea you had for protecting people, what did you call it again?"
"Oh, barriers."
"Yes, that." He looked away, outside the window, and Tengen realized they were the only people still present in the bar, the flickering flames of the fireplace their sole companion among the empty tables and chairs. "It's getting late, and it's only a matter of time till it's too late for me to discard this shell."
Tengen frowned in confusion at his words as the stranger slowly stood on aged limbs, and she rose to follow him. "Where are you going?"
"Away, I suppose. This has been fun. I've never stuck to a persona for so long, but I suppose I have you to thank for the experience. When next we meet, you'll have to tell me all about your barriers."
He waved her back to her seat as he slowly moved to the exit.
"I don't even know your name!"
He turned back and smiled. "I'll tell you the next time we meet." Then he turned his back on her and walked into the night, leaving Tengen with unanswered questions.
…
"I thought it was the last time we were ever going to meet."
Jiki stared at the retreating figure as he walked away, his mind running through hoops and mental gymnastics. "You said he was born in the Yayoi period, and here you claim you are simply two hundred years old. He is truly older than you." He turned to face the cylindrical-headed being that masqueraded as human. "What else? What happened after this?"
Four eyes stared into his two. "I met him again."
…
The Hida mountains were supposed to be the centerpiece of her magnum opus. Her great plan—a plan she only told a single person—so she went at it alone. A straw-blonde wasp of a woman, wrapped in heavy fur clothes, climbed the uncharted peaks of the snow-covered mountains.
Each grasp for a handhold was a struggle, each breath drawn was a battle against the wind, and each step higher was a defiance against the biting chill and the grasping wind. But she fought on, going higher with each step, until she made a mistake.
She was almost to the top, with a clear view of it, and that anticipation made her hurry, rushing and discarding caution to the grasping wind.
She grabbed onto a new handhold, still wet with ice, and by the time she realized it, she had let go of her second handhold to climb higher. A scream tore past her lips as she fell when suddenly, a hand snaked out from the peak and latched onto hers.
She stared up into an unfamiliar face with a wide-brimmed hat as the stranger smiled down at her. "Hello, Tengen. Fancy meeting you here."
Her eyes widened at the tone of the voice, the smile that hid those eyes, and the familiar wide-brimmed hat that hid everything above the eyes. The familiarity.
"I'm not sure I—"
"Of course you do—" He cut her off in that same annoying way he always did, solidifying the memory in her head. Her first... friend. Seeing the realization kick in, he smiled.
"The name is Kenjaku," he replied as she dangled from the edge of the mountain. "And it's been a while, hasn't it?"
…
They sat opposite each other, with a lit fire between them for warmth and a prototype barrier Tengen created to keep out the worst of the snowstorm.
She sat opposite Kenjaku, her supposed friend. This time he dropped the hat to the side, revealing long brown hair with green eyes. His features were not Asian in the slightest—overseas, then. Physically, there was not even the slightest resemblance between the two men, yet…
"Don't you think it's a bit too windy for a mountain climb?"
Tengen simply stared back over the fire a familiar cadence and tone with an unfamiliar voice. His curse energy had lost that twisted and malicious undertone. Instead it was buried and hidden under a more genial curse energy signature. "How can you be..." She shook her head. "No, it is impossible."
Kenjaku tilted his head at her. "You're an immortal sorcerer. There is nothing impossible for us."
"I… thought you were dead. You're supposed to be dead. I saw your body a few meters away from town. Your head had been crushed, but I could recognize it. I buried you!" She rose to her feet, anger and confusion burning in her chest.
"Oh… I had never considered... I thought I walked far away from… I see my mistake. Apologies, Tengen." He sounded genuinely remorseful.
They were simple words but they were enough to placate her for now. She let out a huff as she allowed herself to sink back into her seat, furious with both herself and the man she had come to see as a friend… if not something more.
"How are you here?" she asked.
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stood up and turned to the side, pressing his hand softly against the barrier, and for the first time since she spoke to him, Tengen saw something more than the eternal sense of cool and calm Kenjaku seemed to radiate. Interest—pure and undiluted. The spark of it was clear as day in his eyes.
"I searched for you…"
She blushed, turning away from him. "I was avoiding some people."
"Your religious cult group, I suppose," he replied with a smile, then chuckled at the look on her face.
"It's not just those over enthusiastic kids. I've been making some inroads with a couple of disorganised families that share the same cursed techniques. Some of them are descendants of my first students, so I've been teaching them a bit. Trying my best to formalize jujutsu in a way that it would be easier to pass down, but they always want more and more and more."
"An insatiable desire for more. That's humans for you."
Refocusing back on the barrier and the discussion, Kenjaku continued. "You talked about anchor points for your novel idea of barriers to aid in cursed spirit suppression."
His eyes roved as he tried his best to take in the entirety of the barrier. "It was a simple thing to calculate the intersections between your proposed anchor points and the natural ley lines flowing through Japan. So all I had to do was wait for you at the closest one to the last place we met."
"It's been over two hundred years. How did you know I've not moved on?"
He smiled at her before returning his focus to the barrier. "I've been immortal for as long as you've been, Tengen, and most likely longer. I've talked with you long enough to know that you're... slow to act."
She blushed at the critical reply, his smile softening his words, but she was not finished. "Then how are you alive, with a different face?" Turned away from her as he was, she couldn't see his face, but he thought on his words carefully.
"Simply put, I suppose I have a cursed technique much like yours. Details can be left for later."
Kenjaku stepped back from the barrier, his hand trailing off as if reluctant to part from it. He turned to Tengen with a faint smile, one that carried a touch of admiration but was tinged with something else.
"Why don't you do something more," he started as he sat down opposite her again, and Tengen leaned forward in intrigue, "a network of barriers not just to suppress cursed spirits but to also optimize and enhance techniques. It shouldn't be hard to feedback a loop between the two attributes." His eyes trailed and his voice shook. "or something even more experimental. Mold the very flow of cursed energy itself. To shift it, redirect it, concentrate it like never before."
Tengen frowned in thought. In between his words were some novel ideas, but a slight narrowing of her eyes betrayed the faintest hint of caution. "That is a dangerous plan," she replied evenly. "While i think optimization and enhancement of cursed technique of those beneath the barrier could work, the second part has me more worried. To manipulate cursed energy on that level risks destabilizing the balance. We would be focusing cursed energy in an area, making the people there stronger and the rest weaker for it. That aside, the scale of such a feat… it would be difficult for just a single person."
Kenjaku laughed, a low, indulgent sound. "Perhaps. But only if a single person tries to shoulder it alone." He stared at her through the fire and watched the seed he had implanted grow in her mind as she did the calculations. The two of them working together—what could they not achieve? He smiled at her focused form and continued.
"As for your other worry, imagine the possibilities, Tengen. A world where cursed spirits and sorcerers alike could be allowed to grow, to thrive, past this peak of jujutsu that we know. Chaos? Balance? What does that matter compared to the sheer novelty such a creation could bring? The results that such a barrier would create."
His voice softened as he leaned closer. "You have already created a foundation—a canvas, if you will. Let me paint upon it Tengen. Together, we could achieve what no sorcerer, no curse user, no god has ever dared dream."
Tengen regarded him in silence, her young yet paradoxically ancient mind processing the weight of his words. She would admit she was interested, yet Kenjaku's gaze burned with intensity, his ambition practically radiating from him like a flame threatening to consume everything in its path. And that worried her. Yet it was hardly something to be worried about now. It was simply an idea, wasn't it?
"It has some merit," she agreed, "but it is something that would take time to accomplish. Both for me to teach you my barrier techniques and for the framework to be set in place."
Kenjaku smiled back at her as he leaned away from the fire. "What do two immortals have, if not time, my friend?"
Then Tengen remembered his words. "You said you were going to tell me about how you're still alive. Your specific brand of immortality?"
Kenjaku looked back at her with empty eyes, devoid of fear, sadness, or worry. Then he came to a decision. "We have similar cursed techniques, similar enough that I find it hard to believe we're not related by blood in some way."
Tengen's eyes widened as she stared back at the man. "What?"
Kenjaku nodded before continuing. "It is a logical conclusion. Very rarely do inherent techniques change, but sometimes, over multiple centuries, they do. They optimize themselves to be better than the original that came before. Sometimes that evolution is forced, but I believe this was more gradual."
"How is that possible? I didn't know you before that day at the bar." Tengen had lived her life alone for so long she found it hard to believe she had family.
Kenjaku gave her a smile, a human smile. "The truth is written in blood and curse. Your cursed technique is no real secret so I did a bit of digging. It is much like mine, yes, but mine is a bit… older, more primal. Where you've had to merge with a new vessel every five hundred years because of the overcompensation and evolution of your cursed technique, I have to change vessels every couple of decades as they age and wear out. My cursed technique couldn't simply be bothered maintain the bodies more than needed, as an older version of the same thing. But I suppose that problem can be solved if I simply take over your body." Kenjaku finished in a musing tone.
And for the first time, Tengen felt a chill down her spine in Kenjaku's presence as she realized she was alone with him at the top of a mountain range. Defenseless.
He saw the look on her face and gave out a laugh before replying. "It was a joke, my friend. Just a bit of theory crafting. If I'm right and we are family, I could never take your body, especially not when we have such great plans. Great plans that can only work with your aid."
Tengen forced out a chuckle of acceptance to ease the air as they switched to lighter topics, but that realization stayed with her, the realization of her weakness.
...
Tengen looked down at the scene with a mixture of nostalgia and sadness."I should've realized then, but despite my age, i was quite naive. I didn't understand the full extent of his plan then. Even centuries later i still find it hard to see into you humans' hearts, and Kenjaku had a long time to learn how to mask his true thoughts and feelings, even better by this point." Tengen turned to him. "But those words shook something in me, and it took him long enough to reveal his true colors."
...
They stood at the base of a great tree, the last anchor point for her greatest work ever. Her best friend stood a few meters away. He might've helped with some of the less taxing tasks, but the brunt of the work was still Tengen's to bear, and she wouldn't have it any other way. While the work was important, after doing it three times, it had become routine. Her body moved through the motions, but at the final stage, her attention solidified. Clasping her hands together, she chanted:
Emerge from darkness, deeper than black,
Seal the profane, restrain their blight.
Cleanse the vile, bury the taint,
Build the walls, unyielding yet malleable.
Technique Amplification: Supermassive Interlocked Barrier.
Finally, the last node and anchor point were added. The barriers were complete. Centuries of effort had culminated in an intricate web of cursed energy sprawling across the little island nation of Japan. Tengen felt the weight of it settle—not only on her but also on the four anchor points. And after that came a feeling:
Satisfaction.
The quiet satisfaction was rare, and for the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to rest, seated at the base of the ancient tree. The faint hum of the barriers resonated in a way that only she could perceive.
That was when Kenjaku came to her. A woman this time. Tengen refused to think about the original owner of the body, instead she took in the features. Blue green eyes with pale skin, high cheek bones and red hair that covered part of her face and fell down her back. His presence was as comforting and dependable as ever, yet now there was something beneath it, something that made Tengen's teeth chatter.
"Impressive," Kenjaku remarked, the voice smooth as blue green eyes surveyed the culmination of their work.
"These barriers will shape the future. But it's not truly complete yet, my friend."
Tengen turned her gaze on her, calm but confused. "What is left? We we were able to spin in your ideas into the barrier as well."
"My vision, and your cooperation," Kenjaku replied, stepping closer before sitting beside Tengen and resting her back against the tree. "It came to me over the past couple of centuries—a plan that slowly consolidated as I watched the diamond and golden age of sorcery pass us by, as I watched the world slowly wither and grow boring. Something to spark life back into everything."
There was that passion in her voice again, the kind that spoke of ambition. Tengen instinctively shifted away from her friend, her family. "How would you do this?"
Kenjaku turned to her, a gleam in her eyes. Not just ambition. Madness. "Like I said—your cooperation and my vision. This era still has enough spark to light the flames, and all it needs is a trigger. You."
Before Tengen could question her further, Kenjaku continued.
"But do not worry, this would not be as tasking as the nation spanning barrier you created. This time, all you have to do is nothing my dear friend." Then Kenjaku rose to her feet, walking forward as she called out, "Tanaki."
Tengen's eyes widened in surprise as footsteps echoed. A child, barely older than fifteen, emerged from one of the buildings surrounding the great tree. She looked utterly average, if not for the fact that she was the Star Plasma Vessel.
Tanaki's brown eyes were cloudy, her motions jerky like she was drunk.
Tengen slipped a hand into her robes and ignited the talisman hidden there with cursed energy. "What are you doing, Kenjaku?"
Kenjaku turned to her with a smile, almost sincere and sad, as he grasped the confused child's hand. "I'm not going to let you halt the progress of your technique anymore Tengen."
"But if I don't do that…" Tengen's voice trembled with horror as the full extent of Kenjaku's intentions dawned on her.
"Yes. You become the trigger I need. Your stagnancy and defiance ends my friend. Your merge was supposed to happen in a week, but I shall spare you that fate. Call it my penance, or proof of the bond we once shared."
Kenjaku's gaze shifted momentarily to the child, his voice softening into something grotesquely tender. "But I shall not kill the child, Instead I will take her under my protection until your evolution is complete."
With those words, Kenjaku turned to leave, the child in tow. Tengen remained frozen on her feet. Betrayal carving its way through her composure, and then, at last, a searing, unrelenting anger that burned away her hesitation.
She acted. "Kenny!!!!"
Rushing forward with everything she had, Tengen launched herself at the betrayer. Kenjaku, without so much as a glance behind, tilted to the side, dodging her blow. His counter was immediate. A fist to her stomach that knocked the wind from her lungs. A jab to her throat followed, cutting off any chance to recover, then a kick to her knee that buckled her stance. He caught her arm, twisting it into a lock, and drove his heel into the small of her back. The force sent her crashing headfirst into the ground.
Kenjaku stared down at her, frowning. "You're not a fighter, Tengen. Never have been. Don't be stupid."
Bruised and bloodied, Tengen pushed herself up from the dirt, her breaths ragged. "That doesn't matter." She stood, fists trembling but clenched, and charged again. "I'm not going to let you leave."
She didn't even see it coming.
A blow to her eyes blinded her. Another to her jaw left her reeling. A kick to her chest sent her stumbling back, and a backhand to the side of her head slammed her into a tree.
"That's enough, Tengen. This is pitiful."
Tengen tried to respond, but the pain in her jaw and the blurriness in her vision made it impossible. Before she could collect herself, another voice cut through the tension, smooth and calm.
"You're right. That is enough."
Through the haze of pain, Tengen smiled, fighting to stay conscious as her blurred gaze fixed on the newcomer. A young woman with a shock of white hair and unnervingly bright blue eyes.
...