A month had passed, and no one in the Zenin clan knew that Naoya had a daughter. He hadn't told anyone. Only the high elders were aware of her existence—and Naoya had threatened to kill them if they dared to say a word.
During this month, a special event took place within the Zenin family: a grand party was held to celebrate a major milestone. Naoya had officially been recognized as a Special Grade Sorcerer.
Not just him—Gojo and Geto were also promoted to Special Grade.
The clan was filled with pride and celebration.
"Special Grade?" Makima thought to herself, confused. She still had no idea about cursed energy or its existence.
Naoya Zenin had become the pride of the Zenin clan. At just 17 years old, he achieved something no one else in the clan's long history had managed—attaining Special Grade status at that age.
Now, Naoya sat with Naraku in his arms, sipping alcohol and bragging loudly about how great he was.
But that wasn't all—after nearly a year of studying coding, Naoya had decided it was finally time to start making his game.
"Hey, old man, I need your help with something," Naoya called out to Naobito, who was sitting nearby, drinking his sake.
"You're truly shameless, you annoying brat," Naobito replied, taking another sip. "You come asking for my assistance after what you did?"
When Naoya had first returned to the clan, Naobito had stood in his way. He had heard about Naoya's rapid progress and achievements and challenged him to a duel to see it for himself. But Naoya had completely outclassed him—so much so that he went too far, openly disrespecting Nobito and talking trash without a second thought.
Naoya smirked, waving his hand dismissively. "Forget all that. That was then. We're in the present now—so calm down."
He leaned in slightly, voice steady and confident. "I'm starting a company to launch a game. I'll be coding it myself, but I need your help assembling the best animators and all the staff needed for the visuals and animation. I'm Busy right now—this is where you come in."
Nobito blinked, clearly baffled. "Wait a minute… You're a Special Grade sorcerer—one of the strongest in the clan—and now you're telling me you want to waste your time making a game? What the hell are you doing messing around with a bunch of non-sorcerers?"
Naoya shrugged casually, not bothering to explain. "Doesn't matter. I want your help, that's all."
Nobito frowned, suspicion flashing in his eyes. "You're not going to tell me why, are you?"
Naoya smirked, shaking his head. "Nope."
Nobito crossed his arms, still confused but intrigued. "You really don't make sense sometimes, Naoya. But… fine. I'll help. Just don't expect me to understand your weird hobbies."
Naoya gave him a quick nod. "That's all I need."
…
The next day
Morning sun filtered through the training grounds as Naoya stretched lazily, waiting for Megumi. The boy was now six, sharp for his age, and improving fast under Naoya's strict—and often brutal—guidance. There was potential in him. Real potential.
Just as Naoya was about to begin the warm-up, he sensed two presences approaching. Turning his head slightly, he spotted Maki and Mai standing a short distance away. Both seven now. They stood stiffly, arms crossed, clearly struggling with something. Pride wouldn't let them speak first.
Naoya arched an eyebrow, unimpressed but amused. "What? You two lost or just here to stare?"
Maki scowled. "We're not lost."
Mai glanced away, avoiding eye contact. "Tch. We were just… passing by."
"Oh?" Naoya smirked, folding his arms. "Well, keep walking then. You're blocking the wind."
Maki's jaw tightened. She took a step forward, fists clenched at her sides. "We want training."
Naoya blinked once, then chuckled. "Huh. You want my help? Must be freezing in hell right now."
Mai cut in quickly, face flushed. "Don't get the wrong idea! It's not because we like you or anything. You're just… decent at it."
"Decent?" Naoya echoed mockingly, hand on his hip. "Girl, I'm a Special Grade sorcerer. The only reason I'm not laughing harder is because it'd be a waste of breath."
Maki frowned but didn't back down. "So? Are you going to help us or not?"
Naoya stared at them for a moment, expression unreadable—then turned away with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"You can join Megumi's session," he said casually, waving a hand behind him. "Don't expect me to take care of you, though. I'm not here to babysit."
He glanced back over his shoulder, eyes glinting.
"I'm just feeling generous today."
Mai scoffed, but Maki's lips twitched ever so slightly. They didn't say thank you—they wouldn't. And Naoya didn't expect it. He wasn't doing this out of kindness.
This was going to be entertaining. Letting them join was less about helping them and more about watching them crash headfirst into the brutal reality of his training.
And if they kept up? Well… that would be a surprise worth seeing.
…
Two years flew by like the wind.
The world of jujutsu never slowed down—and in those two years, a lot had changed.
Suguru Geto, once Gojo's closest friend, had massacred an entire village and vanished without a trace… only to re-emerge as a curse user. The news sent shockwaves through the jujutsu world.
Gojo was devastated.
For the first time in his life, the strongest sorcerer looked genuinely lost.
He came to Naoya, hoping—desperately—that his friend might help him talk some sense into Geto.
"You knew him too," Gojo said, voice low, eyes hollow. "You know he's not like this. Help me. Please."
Naoya, sitting back lazily on the engawa with a cold drink in hand, didn't even look up.
"It's his life," he replied flatly. "If he made a choice, you should support it. That's what friends do."
Gojo stared at him, completely flabbergasted. "Support him? He's killing people."
Naoya finally glanced his way, expression unreadable. "And? You kill people too. So do I. Don't act like you're better."
There was nothing more to say. Gojo left that day in silence.
But he came back.
Again and again.
Sometimes with questions. Sometimes with nothing but a tired face and an offer to hang out. Gojo, for all his power, was crumbling under the weight of betrayal—and Naoya, strangely enough, became the person he kept drifting back to.
Naoya didn't always say yes, but every now and then, when he was bored or just felt like watching the strongest sorcerer pretend to be normal, he'd go.
Meanwhile, the higher-ups were losing their minds.
After Naoya was promoted to Special Grade at seventeen—something unheard of even among the Zenin—they expected him to act like a proper sorcerer. Take missions. Serve the jujutsu world.
Naoya did exactly the opposite.
He refused every mission they gave him. Without excuse. Without even pretending to care.
And the worst part?
They couldn't do a damn thing about it.
Anyone who tried to pressure him got metaphorically—and sometimes literally—cooked. His reputation, strength, and the Zenin clan's protection made him untouchable.
So he spent his time however he wanted.
Training Megumi, Maki, and Mai (brutally, of course). Playing around with his side projects. Drinking with Gojo now and then.
And, most annoyingly… being followed by Makima.
It's not like he wanted to spend time with her.
From the moment she figured out how to walk, Makima started tailing him everywhere like a tiny, golden eyed cat. Whether he was heading to the training grounds, the tech room, or even the damn bathroom—there she was, wobbling a few steps behind, expression calm, eyes locked onto him like he was the center of the universe.
At first, Naoya tried to ignore it.
Then he started kicking her away—gently enough not to break her, but firmly enough to send a message. He'd throw her over to her mother like an unwanted parcel, annoyed and grumbling every time.
But no matter what he did, she always came back.
She escaped every door. Slipped away from every babysitter. Wandered the Zenin compound like she owned it. By now, some of the servants had started whispering.
"There's a toddler haunting the courtyard…"
"I saw her staring down the guards… she didn't even blink."
"Zenin Naoya's secret cursed doll, maybe?"
Rumors spread like wildfire. No one knew who she really was, and no one dared to ask Naoya. Every time she was spotted following behind him—expression blank, arms clasped behind her back like a little emperor—the clan members just silently bowed and got out of the way.
They feared her without even knowing why.
…
Makima's POV:
I started walking earlier than expected. One day, I simply stood up and moved.
They called it impressive. I didn't care.
The Zenin compound was strange. Too quiet in the wrong places. Too loud in others. The people here moved like shadows—quick. Some could crush stone with their bare hands. Others could vanish and reappear without making a sound.
I watched a boy—Megumi—call dogs from his own shadow, casually, like it was nothing.
There were no contracts. No devils.
And yet, they could do things no normal person should.
This wasn't a normal place.
These weren't normal people.
Something was… wrong here.
I watched everything.
How they breathed when they fought.
How the air shifted around them.
How their eyes moved—like predators, not humans.
They used some kind of supernatural system, very different from the one in my original world.
Now I'm sure of it:
This is not my world.
…
One day, I was walking. Wandering, really. I didn't have a destination—I just moved.
Then I heard voices. Two of them. Girls.
Maki and Mai.
I'd seen them before. My father called them failures—mocked them constantly. I never understood why. They seemed capable enough to me.
"Your cursed energy is so low it's basically nonexistent, Maki.
And you, Mai—yours is so weak, having it or not doesn't make a damn difference."
Cursed energy, huh?
Interesting name.
"Let me show you the difference between me and you,"
he laughed, loud and sharp.
Showing off on kids.
My father is really something.
Then… I turned the corner.
And I felt it.
Before I even saw him, it hit me.
The air changed.
It wasn't wind.
It wasn't pressure.
It was like… a storm of something unnatural.
Something worse.
My chest tightened.
My skin prickled.
My ears rang.
I froze.
I couldn't move.
Something was pouring out of him.
Thick. Rotten. Heavy.
It wasn't visible. But it was there.
Like heat off asphalt. But colder.
Like drowning in darkness.
It didn't feel human.
I stared through the corner of the wall, heart still.
And I realized—
Whatever my father is… he's not like the others.
He's not just strong.
He's something else.
…
Naoya was stretched out in the Zen'in courtyard, arms behind his head, basking in the sun like he owned it. A half-empty sake bottle sat beside him. He looked like a man without a care in the world.
Then—
Soft footsteps.
He cracked an eye open.
Makima.
Two years old. Hair a mess. Expression blank. Hands tucked behind her back like some kind of tiny cult leader walking in slow motion.
Naoya groaned. "The hell do you want now?"
She stared at him without blinking.
Then opened her mouth.
"Are you the strongest in the clan?"
Naoya sat up, smirking. "What do you think?"
"Everyone listens to you," she said, calm and matter-of-fact. "Even when you're wrong."
His smirk twitched. "Tch. What are you implying?"
He stared at her for a long moment. Then kicked her over like a football.
Makima hit the grass with a soft thud—rolled, stopped, looked up.
Still expressionless.
"I have it too, don't I?"
Naoya blinked. "…Have what?"
She tilted her head slightly.
"Cursed energy."
Silence.
Naoya stared at her.
The wind stirred the leaves. The courtyard felt colder somehow.
He hadn't taught her that term. No one had. Hell, she was two. Most kids that age couldn't even form full sentences properly. But here she was—asking questions she had no business asking, with eyes far too calm for her age.
He squinted, watching her. For the first time, really watching her.
She never cried.
She never laughed.
No tantrums. No bursts of joy. No screaming, no fear.
He'd brushed it off before—just assumed she was weird. Not his problem.
But now…
Now he saw it.
She wasn't normal. Not even close.
Naoya leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, staring at the little girl like she was a puzzle with pieces missing.
"…Who taught you that term?"
Makima blinked. "No one."
"How do you know you have cursed energy?"
"I can feel it."
She paused.
"Same feeling that comes off you. Off Megumi. Off Maki and Mai. It's in the air. Heavy."
Naoya sighed dramatically and closed his eyes. "A pain in the ass. Go ask your mom."