I know it's called Tokyo Metropolitan blah blah blah but it's too wordy
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The sun had begun its slow descent behind the trees, but inside the secluded barrier near Sunset Park, the clash of steel rang out without pause.
Akiyama Ren and Maki Zen'in moved like dueling spirits—fast, sharp, relentless.
For hours, they sparred, trading techniques and momentum like veteran warriors rather than students. Each strike, dodge, and feint was more than training—it was communication. Ren fed her moves with subtle purpose, challenging her reflexes, provoking creativity. Maki, in turn, fought with that stubborn, burning will that made her the outcast gem of the Zen'in Clan.
When they tired, they sat quietly in the shade of the sealed domain, wiping sweat from their brows, sharing water, and exchanging quiet insights on grip angles and center balance. Then they rose again.
Again and again.
What Maki didn't know—what she couldn't have guessed—was what Ren was building behind those steady eyes.
Within him surged a divine construct. Not from curses or inherited sorcery, but from a divine favor he had yet to name publicly. A system of authority that classified him, not as a Jujutsu sorcerer, but as something other—a War God-in-the-making.
He was no mere fighter. He was a scholar of combat, and his divine core processed martial knowledge like a forge devours flame.
Swordplay once wielded by legendary exorcists—forgotten Onmyoji techniques, hand-to-hand forms shaped by yokai hunters of the Edo period, and modern combat styles from across the world—all poured into him. He didn't just copy them; he internalized, refined, and evolved them.
Bit by bit, they became something new.
And so, in the quiet spaces between clashes, as he danced with Maki in deadly rhythm, something within Ren clicked into place.
A synthesis.
He didn't just mimic martial styles anymore—he authored one.
By the time the sun kissed the tree line, Akiyama Ren had finished constructing a new, complete martial system. A fusion of Onmyoji ritual motion, jujutsu precision, exorcist discipline, and his own metaphysical enhancements.
He called it Crown Rank Martial Arts.
A system for those who walked the line between man and divine. For sorcerers, warriors, and avatars alike.
Of course, Maki wasn't just watching this unfold—she was evolving, too.
Sparring with Ren was unlike anything she'd experienced at Jujutsu High. He didn't just overpower her. He taught her. He exposed her to unfamiliar combat patterns, unusual rhythms, and weapons she had never even seen wielded so fluidly.
And through his guidance, Maki picked up far more than she expected.
She now had a working understanding of multiple new forms: the "Shadowless Step" for blindside movement, a burst-dash called "Heaven Piercer", and a handful of internal strike techniques designed to bypass cursed energy entirely. They were ancient in feel, but Ren had reconstructed them into something modern and teachable.
Still, they were raw in her hands—potential without polish. But that didn't matter. A fire had been lit.
Wanting to return the favor, Maki had offered Ren something in kind: the foundational martial arts inherited from the Zen'in Clan. Simple, rigid, and brutal in nature—designed for body-enhancement specialists like herself. To Ren, they were rough drafts, but he accepted them all the same with a smile.
By late afternoon, the two of them were soaked in sweat, their shirts clinging to their frames like second skins. Maki looked like she had just come out of a storm—hair plastered to her face, eyes still burning with adrenaline.
At 5:30 PM, Ren's phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen. Kyōko.
He picked up. "Yo."
"Akiyama, where are you?" Kyōko's voice sounded casual, but there was a familiar edge of sass beneath it.
"Training with Maki. We're at that outdoor basketball court near Sunset Park."
"Basketball court? What, you teaching her more weird magic?"
"Nope. Strictly martial arts today."
"Oh, that's fine then." A pause. "Wait—where were you at noon? I came back and none of you were around."
"You forgot already? I told you to take Sakura out for a walk."
"You said morning. We ended up wandering half the city. The kid wanted taiyaki, then a haunted arcade, then a shrine... Anyway, are you coming home for dinner?"
Ren glanced over at Maki, who was wiping her face with the edge of her shirt. "Nah, Maki and I are eating out."
"You're not coming back?" she huffed. "Tch. I even brought back your favorite grilled mackerel. Guess I'll eat it myself!"
Click.
The line went dead.
Ren chuckled and slid the phone into his pocket. "She's mad."
Maki raised an eyebrow. "Forget that—look at me. My shirt's basically glued on. How the hell are we supposed to go to a restaurant like this?"
She wasn't exaggerating. Her uniform was soaked through, fabric stuck tight to her skin, her bangs dripping onto her cheekbones.
"Fair point," Ren admitted. "We'll head back first, shower, change. After that… I kinda want to see Jujutsu High in person."
Maki perked up. "Seriously?! You want to visit? Awesome! I'll introduce you to the others!"
Ren nodded, amused by her sudden enthusiasm. "Sure."
He already had a rough idea of who she meant—Yuta Okkotsu, the special grade with a haunted past; Toge Inumaki, the quiet sorcerer who spoke only in ingredients; and Panda… who was, well, a panda.
According to the current timeline of Jujutsu High, the first-year student Yuji Itadori hadn't enrolled yet. Fushiguro Megumi, on the other hand, had likely joined early as part of Satoru Gojo's quiet plan for the future. Akiyama Ren recalled some of this from fragmented memories of his past life—his knowledge of this world's narrative wasn't perfect, but the important names stuck with him like old echoes.
Once they'd freshened up and changed into dry clothes, Ren quietly dispelled the veil he had cast—an independent dimensional barrier technique he referred to as a "Curtain." Unlike typical Jujutsu barriers, his version wove together Onmyoji-style talismans and exorcist glyphs with his own arcane scripting system—magic drawn from a synthesis of worlds. With the curtain gone, reality folded back into focus.
The pair hailed a taxi and made their way toward Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical High School.
Despite its name, Jujutsu High wasn't nestled in the heart of Tokyo's bustling skyline. Instead, the school was hidden within the dense, forested outskirts, where ancient curses clung to the land like whispers in the wind. Trees, tall and thick with age, loomed over the winding roads leading toward the institution. Compared to the urban maze of Chiba, this place felt like another world entirely—quiet, watchful, and haunted.
As the cab pulled up to the rusted school gate framed by stone guardians, Maki paid the driver and stepped out eagerly.
"Come on!" she said with a rare glimmer of excitement in her eyes, grabbing Ren by the sleeve. "Let me show you around."
He followed her with a slight grin. For all her tough talk and stoicism, Maki still had that youthful spark when it came to her comrades and pride in her school.
As they crossed the main field, the sounds of sparring echoed faintly in the afternoon air. Ren spotted two familiar figures training—one of them, a humanoid panda throwing sharp jabs; the other, a silver-haired boy dodging with rhythmic, almost dance-like movements. The moment they saw Maki, they paused.
"Maki! You're back," Panda called out, his deep voice cheerful. But when his eyes landed on the stranger beside her, he tilted his head. "Wait… who's that guy with you?"
Despite witnessing Ren's overwhelming power the night of the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons—when curses surged through Shinjuku and Kyoto—Panda hadn't connected this version of him to the terrifying presence from that battle. Ren had since evolved—his aura now layered and restrained, no longer leaking the same divine weight that once blanketed entire city blocks.
Maki scoffed, folding her arms. "Seriously? That's Akiyama Ren."
Panda's expression froze. "Wait… the Akiyama Ren?! That guy who erased a swarm of Special Grade Curses like they were smoke?"
Toge Inumaki blinked in disbelief. "Tuna mayo…" he muttered in awe.
The revelation made the air around them still. Ren gave a casual wave, smiling politely. "Nice to meet you guys again. You can just call me Ren."
Panda stood stiffly for a moment, then straightened up with a nervous grin. "I-I'm Panda! You can also just call me Panda!"
Ren chuckled. Despite the chaos and darkness woven into the world of Jujutsu, characters like Panda and Toge brought a kind of charm to it. They reminded him that not everything here was grim and cursed.
Toge stepped forward, giving a polite nod. "Kelp."
Thanks to his divine-level trait—Thousand Languages—Ren could effortlessly comprehend even Toge's unique cursed speech dialect, which typically required intimate familiarity or protection charms to understand without risk.
"I understand you just fine," Ren said warmly. "Nice to meet you too, Inumaki."
Maki blinked. "Wait—seriously? You understand his rice ball speech?"
"Of course," Ren replied casually. "It's a passive technique I have. Any language—human, curse, spirit, animal—I can understand and mimic it."
"Damn, I want that," Maki muttered, clearly impressed.
Panda laughed awkwardly. "You're full of surprises, Ren-san. Uh… are you gonna be teaching at Jujutsu High or something?"
Ren scratched his cheek. "Not officially. But I'm happy to share what I know, if someone's interested. I've got a few techniques that aren't… from around here."
He wasn't lying. Ren's innate ability, the Alpha-Omega Codex, allowed him to absorb and adapt magic systems, combat styles, and sorceries from other worlds—what some might call parallel domains or alternate spiritual planes. While others relied solely on cursed energy or heavenly restrictions, Ren's path was ever-expanding.
He had brought something entirely new into this world, and he was already sharing pieces of it with Maki—who, thanks to her Heavenly Restriction, could physically keep up with his intensive martial training. Her body was a blade; Ren was simply sharpening it to perfection.
Toge looked curious. "Salmon roe?"
"Yup," Ren nodded. "I've even got a few warding sigils from the Onmyoji school, and a binding technique that doesn't rely on cursed energy at all. I could show you sometime."
"Whoa…" Panda muttered. "Maki, where did you find this guy again?"
She smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know."