Naraku secret p1

Naoya stepped out of the car.

No words.

No warning.

He moved like a shadow, slipping into intangibility—gliding through walls like smoke.

Each step was deliberate.

Each breath, measured.

The cursed energy was faint, but unmistakable.

It was him.

Naraku.

Naoya rounded the corner.

There he stood—in the gloom of a narrow alleyway, speaking with someone unfamiliar.

A man, middle-aged, dressed plainly. Desperate.

The stranger's face was twisted with worry. The other figure—calm, composed—stood with his back turned.

Naoya's eyes locked on the second man.

His blood surged.

That cursed energy, that stillness… it couldn't be anyone else.

It was Naraku.

Different face. Different posture.

But unmistakable.

Naoya clenched his jaw, forcing himself to steady his breath.

The stranger's voice trembled,

"Don't worry… everything you asked for will be here soon. Just—please—heal my son's disease."

Suddenly, a hand phased through the wall behind the stranger, gently patting Naraku's shoulder as Naoya fully materialized beside him.

He glanced once at the stranger, then back at Naraku.

"A healer now?" Naoya's voice dripped mockery. "How… noble."

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Naraku's blood turned to ice. That voice—

His eyes snapped to Naoya, shock flashing across his face.

And the most surprising part—Naoya was back to being a man.

The stranger turned, confused.

"Do you two know each—?"

Naoya flicked his wrist.

His fist struck the man's face with brutal precision, sending him flying, unconscious.

Naraku didn't waste a second. He vanished, slipping away with his cursed technique.

But Naoya didn't chase.

A slow smile crept across his face as he brought his hands together, forming a seal.

His voice dropped low.

"Why the hurry?"

His hair fell over his eyes as he whispered,

"Royiki Tenkai."

The alley around them warped in an instant. The air thickened, shimmering like a heat wave, ready to tear apart.

A golden corridor stretched out in every direction. The walls were covered in ancient murals—frozen warriors locked in endless battles. The marble floor shone like glass, reflecting the glow of a massive mechanical eye hovering silently above.

but The eye this time was closed.

Naraku's voice cracked with fear.

"What… what is this?"

Naoya stepped forward, calm and cold.

His smile deepened.

"Why are you so scared? Relax."

He tilted his head, eyes gleaming.

"Let's go for a walk."

Naraku's breath caught. He quickly realized the truth.

This was Naoya's Domain.

There was no door.

No exit.

No hope.

Naoya strolled forward, slow and steady, like he had all the time in the world.

"I thought you escaped the country," he said casually.

"Vanished. Never to be seen again. Honestly…"

He smiled wider, almost too warmly.

"I was really worried."

Naraku flinched, taking a step back.

"Just hurry and—"

Naoya cut him off.

"Worried," he said again, placing a hand over his chest, voice full of fake gratitude.

"Worried about how to thank you."

He said it like Naraku was his savior.

Naraku blinked.

"…What?"

Confusion swept across his face.

None of it made sense.

Naoya chuckled—low and quiet, but it echoed like a warning.

"I told you… let's go for a walk."

He stepped up beside Naraku and gently patted him on the back, like they were old friends.

Then he turned and began walking, his footsteps soft against the polished marble.

Naraku hesitated.

But he had no choice.

Here, inside Naoya's Domain, he was at his mercy.

So he followed—silent and tense—as the golden corridor stretched endlessly ahead.

For a full minute, there was only the sound of their footsteps and the hum of cursed energy.

The walls around them shimmered with ancient paintings—silent warriors trapped in motion, frozen mid-strike. The Domain was beautiful in its own haunting way.

Then, without warning, Naoya spoke.

"I'm truly thankful for what you did to me."

Naraku's eyes narrowed.

"Cut the bullshit, Naoya. Your face that day wasn't even close to thankful. You think I'm stupid?"

Naoya gave a soft laugh—not mocking, but tired.

"You're right. I hated it. That day felt like the worst thing that ever happened to me."

He paused, then looked ahead, voice quieter.

"But when I reverted back… when I became myself again… I saw it differently. That experience—what you did—it forced me to grow. To change. It made me stronger."

Naraku scoffed.

"You expect me to believe that?"

Naoya stopped walking and turned to face him. His eyes weren't cruel. Not mocking. Just… honest.

"I know it's hard to believe. But I mean it. You were one of the best things to ever happen to me."

He smiled—gently, almost peacefully.

"I'm truly thankful."

For a brief second, Naraku hesitated.

Something in Naoya's tone, in the way he said it… it felt real.

Genuine.

And that scared him more than anything else.

"Thank you. You made me stronger." Naoya's voice was calm. Still. Deadly sincere.

Naraku's lips parted, but no words came out.

His heart pounded in his chest—not from fear of death, but from something far worse.

Emptiness.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

He had imagined this moment for so long.

Seeing Naoya again.

Watching him break.

Begging.

Bleeding.

Suffering.

But now—standing here in a world Naoya controlled, hearing those words—

"You made me stronger"—

It felt like everything Naraku did was meaningless.

His fists clenched. His breathing hitched.

Was this a trick?

A mind game?

Or worse—was it real?

A storm of rage, confusion, and shame twisted inside him. But he crushed it down.

Now wasn't the time.

So he forced himself to breathe. Steady. Controlled.

And then, with a carefully practiced smile, he looked Naoya in the eye.

"Is that so?"

The words were smooth. Calm.

But inside, Naraku was burning.

If I stay alive… I still have a chance.

He swallowed his pride, buried his fury, and played along.

Naoya turned to him, smiling almost warmly.

"The greatest gift in this life…" he said gently,

"…is the friends we make along the way."

He raised his hand, offering a handshake.

Casual. Friendly. Like the past didn't matter.

Naraku hesitated—just for a moment—then forced himself to move, reaching out to accept it.

Stay alive. Stay smart.

But just before their hands met—

BOOM

Naoya drove his knee into Naraku's gut.

The impact was sharp and brutal.

Naraku doubled over, gasping as the air was ripped from his lungs.

His legs trembled. Pain bloomed deep in his core.

Naoya leaned in, voice cold and close to his ear.

"Of course not, idiot."

He smiled—no kindness in it, only amusement.

"Did you really think this was forgiveness?"

Naraku staggered back, coughing, clutching his side. His eyes were wide—more from disbelief than pain.

Naoya stood over him, perfectly calm.

Like this was all part of the show.

"What do you think of my acting?" Naoya asked, grinning.

"Pretty convincing, right? I actually went to acting school before."

He looked upward, pretending to think.

"Must've been… twenty-two years ago now? Maybe twenty-three."

Naraku stared at him, his body still aching, mind reeling.

"What the hell is this guy saying?" he thought, gritting his teeth.

Out loud, he rasped, "You're only sixteen. Did you hit your head? Have you lost your mind?"

Naoya turned to him slowly. The smile never left.

"Oh, right." He gave a small nod.

"I'm sixteen in this life."

Suddenly, a mechanical click echoed above them.

The projector-eye snapped open, glowing with cold, surgical light.

Naraku barely had time to react—

Before a thin, sharp whip of cursed energy lashed out from the eye, striking the side of his neck.

He gasped.

Something foreign had entered his body.

It wasn't pain—yet. But it felt wrong. Intrusive.

Naraku twitched instinctively—

And agony bloomed.

Dozens of microscopic gashes tore across his arms, his ribs, his throat.

Tiny red lines appeared out of nowhere—cut not by blades, but by the violation of rhythm.

Naoya smiled.

"Let's see how long you can stay still, Naraku."

Naraku stood frozen.

Sweat rolled down the side of his face.

His jaw trembled, his muscles clenched—and even that tiny reflex triggered a flash of pain.

Thin red lines split across his shoulder, blood blooming like cracks in glass.

Then—without warning—Naoya raised his leg.

And brought it down.

A brutal stomp to the side of Naraku's head.

Naraku's body jolted.

He couldn't dodge. Couldn't flinch.

The Domain wouldn't let him.

The moment his neck turned to absorb the blow, dozens of micro-slashes tore across his spine and jaw.

Blood sprayed the floor.

His knees buckled as he crumpled to one side, twitching, gasping.

"Look at you — a masterpiece of ruin. Every fracture, every twitch… my signature."

"Revenge isn't loud, Naraku. It's slow. Precise. Beautiful."

After that, Naoya kept humiliating and torturing Naraku for a couple of minutes, but made sure he stayed alive.

Finally, Naoya closed his domain and tied up the bloody mess Naraku had become. Without hesitation, he carried him to the waiting car and loaded him into the trunk as if it were just another errand on a normal Tuesday.

Seeing Naoya handle a bloodied, broken body with such cold ease sent a shiver down the spines of both Tsumiki and Megumi. Their eyes met briefly—silent questions and doubts blooming in that frozen moment. Was it truly wise to follow Naoya?

The car cut through the night, and upon reaching the Zenin clan estate, Naoya wasted no time. He dismissed Tsumiki and Megumi, sending them off to settle into their new home with a curt nod and a few cold words.

Then, with his authority, he ordered the clan's attendants to bring Naraku directly to his private chambers.

The weight of the night pressed heavy as Naraku was dragged, a silent prisoner chained not only by rope but by the ruthless vengeance that breathed through every scar.

…

The attendants dropped Naraku onto the cold marble floor of Naoya's private chamber with a dull thud. Blood smeared against the polished tiles, stark against the sterile elegance of the room.

Naraku winced, his wrists still bound behind him, shoulders shaking from the strain.

"Wow…" he rasped, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "You really went full 'I hate you' on me. Did you forget to invite me to your pity party?"

Naoya approached slowly, He flashed a cold smile, void of humor.

"Consider this your eviction notice. No refunds."

Naraku managed a crooked smirk, even as his body protested every breath.

"Eviction, huh? Guess I'm just too comfortable crashing at your place."

Naoya crouched in front of him, gaze level.

"Comfy enough to bleed on my floor?"

Naraku chuckled, the sound wet and weak. "Well, if I had a nickel for every time I got beaten by a kid… I'd probably have enough to buy a brain."

Naoya's eyes narrowed, his tone dropping to a cold whisper.

"Keep talking. Maybe your mouth will bleed too."

Then his expression shifted—like he suddenly remembered something.

"Oh, right… let's see if this works."

Naoya placed his hand on Naraku's chest.

His cursed energy changed. It wasn't aggressive—it turned inward. Focused.

His hand started to glow white. Faint at first, then stronger. It didn't feel like regular cursed energy. This was Reverse Cursed Technique.

Even Gojo Satoru couldn't use RCT to heal others, Naoya thought. But my technique is different.

I always need physical contact to use Projection Sorcery on others. So maybe…

He pushed positive energy through his hand. Not to hurt, but to repair. He reversed the flow—channeling RCT.

And it worked.

Naoya successfully projected Reverse Cursed Technique onto someone else.

Naraku's wounds started to close. The bleeding slowed. Deep gashes began to knit together. His breathing steadied.

Naoya didn't smile. He just stared at his hand as the glow faded.

"…I did it," he said quietly.

"Reverse Cursed Technique???" Naraku gasped, eyes wide as he looked up at him.

This guy… how much did he improve?

Even the old Naoya felt like a wall he couldn't get past. But now?

Now he felt like something worse.

Naoya stood, eyes cold.

"Now," he said, stepping aside. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a weapon.

The Inverted Spear of Heaven.

A cursed tool that nullifies any cursed technique on contact.

Naraku's breath caught.

Naoya gripped it with one hand and pointed it forward.

"Let's see your real face," he said.

The Inverted Spear of Heaven pierced Naraku's side, sending a sharp pulse of cursed energy through his body.

"You—!" he hissed.

The twisted layers of her fleshcraft technique began to shudder violently, like a cracked mask breaking apart.

His skin rippled unnaturally, folding and stretching as if it were liquid, peeling away in slow, painful waves.

Beneath, her bones creaked and shifted—changing shape, cracking softly as they realigned.

His jawbone slid backward, the sharp edges smoothing into a softer, more feminine curve.

Her broad shoulders narrowed, the bulky frame slimming down with a sickening pop of joints adjusting.

The long, tangled hair of a man fell away, replaced by glossy dark navy locks tied into high twin ponytails that bounced lightly as her head moved.

His whole body reshaped itself—curves emerging where there had been angles, strength balanced with grace.

Her face emerged last—sharp features settling into place.

Her piercing ice-blue eyes, framed by straight bangs, locked onto Naoya's with unwavering intensity.

They seemed to cut through every lie, every hesitation.

The transformation finished.

Standing there was no longer the ugly Man Naoya had fought—but a short woman with a presence that filled the room.

Image:

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"…Huh?" he said, completely stunned.

"You're… a woman?"