Training Field – Moments Later
A hush fell over the clearing.
Naoya and Gojo now stood facing each other beneath the open sky, Wind stirred the grass. Cursed energy simmered just beneath the surface, like a volcano waiting to erupt.
One was grinning.
The other—still not sure why he was so angry.
Gojo's hands were in his pockets. His sunglasses reflected the light. But something in his expression was off.
Naoya just stood there, perfectly calm. Like this was a game.
Then, with deliberate care, Naoya crouched and picked up a small rock. With the other hand, he pulled out a wrapped chocolate sweet from his pocket. He tossed both—one after the other—straight at Gojo.
The rock stopped mid-air, bouncing harmlessly in front of Gojo's face, caught by the Infinity.
But the chocolate?
Smack.
It tapped lightly against Gojo's forehead before he caught it.
Gojo blinked, looking at the candy in his palm.
"It's your favorite," Naoya said casually, watching him. Studying him.
There was a pause.
Then Naoya's thoughts clicked into place.
"So it's already automatic, huh?"
Naoya's smirk sharpened.
He's reached it early. This version of Gojo—he's already made his Infinity automatic. It's running 24/7. No activation, no lag. It filters danger on its own. That was supposed to take another year of development...
The rock had been tagged as a threat.
The candy had not.
And all of that… was because of Naoya.
Flashback – Jujutsu High Classroom, Last Year
"I wonder how I'm supposed to make my abilities better," Gojo groaned, sprawled across his chair like a bored cat. "I can't think of anything."
Naoya didn't even look up. He had his legs kicked up on a desk, arms crossed behind his head. "Well, you'll need Reverse Cursed Technique if you want to take your strength to the next level."
"I know that," Gojo snapped, frustrated. "But I don't understand a single word of what Shoko says about it."
"Same," Naoya and Geto muttered in unison.
Shoko, puffing a cigarette by the window, didn't even flinch. "Not my problem if you're all dumb."
Gojo rubbed his temples. "Okay, okay, let's say I figure out RCT. Then what? How do I make Limitless stronger?"
Naoya shifted slightly, eyes half-lidded with boredom. "First of all? You should make your Infinity automatic."
Gojo blinked. "Automatic? What does that mean?"
Naoya sighed, dramatic. "You should really be more grateful for my presence."
"Just say it," Gojo deadpanned.
"Fine. Right now, you're turning your Infinity on and off manually, right?" Naoya said, finally sitting up. "But with RCT constantly repairing your brain from the strain of your cursed technique, you could maintain Infinity all the time. Passive. Always on."
Geto tilted his head, processing.
Naoya smirked. "And if you structure it with a binding vow, Infinity could filter what's dangerous and what's not. That way, it only stops what actually threatens you."
Gojo sat upright, stunned.
Even Shoko glanced over her shoulder now, the cigarette frozen halfway to her lips.
A beat of silence.
Then—
"…That could work," she muttered.
Geto stared at Naoya, eyebrows raised. "That's actually… brilliant."
Gojo, for once, was speechless.
Naoya leaned back lazily, the picture of smug satisfaction.
"Honestly, I should be the one with the Six Eyes," he said without a shred of shame.
Gojo rolled his eyes. "Don't push it."
A short silence. Then—
"I've got another question, Naoya." Gojo's voice was tighter now. It clearly cost him something to ask.
Naoya raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"…When I will acquire my Domain Expansion," Gojo said, "I've got no idea what the sure-hit effect should be. I don't even know how it's supposed to work."
The words came out fast, clipped. Asking Naoya—his rival, his irritant, his equal in all the wrong ways—was deeply out of character.
But no one in the room laughed.
Because they all knew the truth:
Naoya Zen'in's understanding of jujutsu is better than anyone else they know.
Naoya clicked his tongue, pretending to think.
"Well," he said finally, "when most sorcerers open a domain for the first time, it's incomplete. No sure-hit. Just an empty space filled with cursed energy. But…"
He grinned.
"If you're like me—"
"Of course."
"—and you have a deep understanding of your cursed technique, you can cast a complete Domain from the very first time. One with a guaranteed hit."
"Naoya," Geto muttered, "just answer the question."
Naoya grinned. "Now, about your Domain… the thing about Domains is, inside them, your cursed technique reaches another level. Think of it as your technique in overdrive—abilities that are impossible outside become possible within"
He pointed lazily at Gojo. "You, with Limitless and Six Eyes, already have terrifying control. So your Domain shouldn't be flashy."
Gojo frowned slightly, interested despite himself.
Naoya's tone sharpened. "Here's what I'd do if I were you: Take the neutral form of Limitless—infinity—and weaponize it with the help of the Domain to Create a sure-hit effect that floods your target's brain with infinite sequences of raw information. Numbers. Shapes. Data. Concepts. So much, so fast, their brain can't keep up."
He tapped his temple. "An overload. Like freezing a computer with too many tabs open—but those tabs are physics equations, temperature shifts, spatial mapping, cursed energy flow, distance calculations, atomic data..."
"...Forever," Geto murmured.
Shoko exhaled a puff of smoke. "That might actually be the most horrifying Domain I've ever heard of."
Gojo stared at Naoya. Still processing.
Then he gave a short, dry laugh.
"...Tch. Thanks, I guess."
"I would've thought of that on my own anyway," Gojo added arrogantly,
End of Flashback
…
Gojo's expression darkened. His sunglasses dangled loosely from his fingers now, his bare eyes locked on Naoya.
"I really felt something was off that day," he said, voice quiet. "The way you grabbed Riko so suddenly when Toji showed up… the way you acted like you forgot the route to Tengen's chamber, even after Geto explained it twice…"
He took a slow step forward.
"And you didn't even try to use your Domain against Toji."
Naoya didn't flinch. In fact, he leaned into the accusation like it amused him.
"My Domain is useless against someone with no cursed energy!" he replied, dramatically offended, throwing his hands up. "What was I supposed to do? Pose for him?!"
Then he tilted his head, eyes gleaming with that smug, theatrical cruelty only Naoya could deliver.
"I once heard something," he said, voice dropping into a theatrical murmur.
"Fake friends are like shadows—they follow you in the sun… but leave you in the dark."
Gojo's jaw tightened.
it wasn't just rage. It was something deeper. Raw betrayal. Grief.
"You think this is funny?"