"Mai," Utahime urged, "maybe it's time to call your—"

"No!" Mai hissed, frustration etched on her face. "I almost have it!"

Dusk seemed to be settling faster than usual, or perhaps it was just the oppressive density of the woods around them. The air, heavy with the scent of impending snow, chilled Utahime to the bone despite the luxurious fur lining Cousin Ayumi's gift of a coat and winter boots.

"But I'm sure Maki would…" Utahime tried again, just to be cut off by Mai once more.

"...do absolutely nothing, as always," Mai spat. "I know far better than her how to get in, Sensei. Trust me."

She strained against the hidden door, her face contorting in exertion. Utahime clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white. She was this close to starting to chew on her nails! Coming here was a gamble bordering on madness. If they failed... With a triumphant growl, Mai slammed her weight against the panel one last time. The latch finally gave way, revealing a sliver of a neglected patch of garden beyond. The overgrown expanse was a chaotic tangle of tall sasa bamboo, thorny bushes, and thickets of wild, untamed vines reaching out like skeletal fingers.

"Told you I could do it," Mai looked at her triumphantly. "Here we go."

Gained entry, Utahime sent a message to Nanami, who was waiting on standby near the main gate. He would start his countdown now: It would take them approximately thirty minutes from here to their first destination, the servant's quarters, and then ten to maximum twenty minutes to locate Chia.

"Alright, sensei," Mai announced, squinting up at the sky. The air had grown even colder, thick with the scent of damp earth and a faint metallic tang. "Follow me."

Utahime nodded, clenching her fists one last time for fortitude. They could do this.

Ducking through the opening, they entered the Zen'in compound. Mai moved ahead, deftly skirting around half-frozen puddles and kicking aside debris with practiced efficiency. Mai and many of the other children had frequently sneaked out by using this door, which was never guarded. Deliberately so, perhaps, because daring adventures was exactly what a Zen'in offspring should embark on.

"Watch your step, Sensei," Mai pointed at a section that looked like a bog, carefully balancing on stones protruding from the brown, half-frozen mess. Overhead, a crow cried mournfully.

"So we'll just pretend we belong here if someone addresses us," Mai said, trying to mask her anxiety behind a gruff tone.

"Yes. But won't people wonder when they recognize you?" Utahime asked carefully.

"There aren't many servants who stay on for long," Mai replied, bitterness flashing across her face. "And I haven't paid the family a visit in quite some time, so it's unlikely. But even if… it's not like I cannot visit!"

Utahime regarded her with a mix of emotions. Despite Mai's display of confidence, Utahime knew how much courage it took for her student to face a place that had caused her so much pain. She had seen the fear in Mai's eyes—quickly suppressed—when she had asked her student to help her gain entry to the Zen'in compound. The level of abuse both Zen'in girls had endured at the hands of their clan was never openly discussed in the Jujutsu community, but everyone knew that being born a Zen'in woman with little cursed energy was one of the worst fates imaginable.

Suddenly, they emerged from the overgrown section, before them meticulously raked gravel paths, perfectly pruned bonsai trees, and a dark koi pond reflecting the gray sky.

"Alright," Mai's eyes scanned the area. It appeared empty. Dinner preparations, Mai had explained, made this a good time to walk around without attracting attention. "The servants' quarters are straight ahead."

Utahime kept her expression calm and composed, though her heart was pounding against her ribs. Again, she felt a surge of urgency propelling her to run—but she forced herself to stroll across the garden with no apparent haste, their footsteps crunching softly on the gravel path.

"I have never seen you in a kimono," Mai remarked with a sideways glance and some of the tension leaving her body. "I'm so used to your miko outfit, Sensei, that I feel like I'm with a completely different person. You look very nice though."

Utahime smiled. Yes, she had actually changed for this foolish rescue mission. "Thank you, Mai. It's tradition in my family for the women to wear a miko outfit in the service of Jujutsu Sorcery."

"Makes sense," Mai nodded, knowingly. "Speaking of tradition, I just recently read something interesting—there were shrine maidens in Zen'in history as well! I think it was our fabled ancestor, Taira no Masakado, who even married one?"

Utahime's smile faltered, this was the first time she'd heard such a thing. "What?" she breathed. Could be a coincidence, of course.

But when was it, ever.

She noticed the danger a fraction of a section before it was upon them. A voice, dripping with venom, pierced the shadows. "Oh yes," it said. "But he wasn't pleased with her at all."

Naoya Zen'in stepped out from behind a stone structure, his face contorted in a sneer that did little to hide the dark glint in his eyes. He looked anything but amused.

###

The air shimmered briefly in all the colors of the rainbow around him as Gojo materialized in the central courtyard of his estate, a wide grin plastered across his face.

"Curses disbanded in record time!" he declared to nobody in particular, his voice echoing through the empty space. This mission, typically a multi-day affair, had been a breeze. Gojo suspected this amazing efficiency was due to his mind not being focused on cursed spirits, but on seeing Utahime again.

They were going on a date! The very thought sent a jolt of nervous excitement through him, making his heart race and his palms sweat. The idea of spending time with Utahime like a normal couple was exhilarating and terrifying all at once. He couldn't stop imagining the possibilities (and worrying a tiny little bit about what could go wrong), wondering what she'd like to do, where she'd like to go. He even found himself picturing her in various situations, her laugh echoing across a bustling night market for example, or her eyes sparkling with delight as they browsed a quaint bookstore. He wanted it to be perfect!

"Do I know her favorite food?" he mused aloud, teleporting himself in front of the library. He actually didn't! Should he ask Shoko? He definitely should!

What greeted him when he ripped open the door with a joyous exclamation of her name was not the welcome sight of Utahime watching over the annoying historian though. The room was deserted.

"Huh?" Gojo muttered, turning in a full circle to take in the slight disarray of scrolls and other items scattered across the historian's desk and the faint traces of cursed energy in the air. Not too long ago, Kuroda had still tortured ancient texts.

"Utahime?"

No answer. Perhaps, he thought, they are having dinner. She didn't know I'd return so quickly.

Teleportation brought him back to the main house in an instant. He slid open the front doors, expecting to be greeted by the stern gaze of his Aunt Narumi or the old butler, they always came up with reasons to scold him. But the grand entrance hall was eerily empty too. A flicker of unease sparked in his gut. Where was everyone?

"Utahime?" he called out again, beginning to find the quiet quite unsettling. He stalked through the meticulously maintained rooms, but Utahime was nowhere to be found.

Just as his unease began to morph into full-blown concern, a strangled shriek pierced the silence. "Oh shit, you're back!" It was his cousin Ayumi peeking around a doorway.

"Ayumi," Gojo frowned, his voice tight. "Where's Utahime?"

"About that…," Ayumi murmured. "Why don't you sit down and have some tea?"

Gojo scoffed. "Tell me what's going on," he demanded, taking a few steps in her direction. "Why are you acting so strangely?"

Ayumi flinched at his sharp tone, but squared her shoulders. "I thought you were a burglar!" she blurted, her voice laced with a hint of defiance.

Gojo raised a skeptical eyebrow. "A burglar? Here? In the Gojo estate? There's a barrier around it."

"Ah," Ayumi frowned, her initial fear replaced by sheepishness. "That's good to know."

Gojo's annoyance grew. "What's that strange sound?"

Ayumi looked back over her shoulder with a grimace. "Oh, that? Hiroshi fell asleep while we were trying to feed him something and Ema was adamant she needed to keep him company. Now they're both sleeping, heads on the table, snoring. This guy is useless. I hope you're not paying him anything?"

"Is Utahime here too?" Gojo suddenly felt like the floor beneath his feet had become unstable. Something was definitely not right!

"Calm down," Ayumi sighed. "No, she's not here. She went to the Zen'in estate. Don't you check your phone?"

Gojo's blood ran cold. The Zen'in Estate. Utahime wouldn't go there alone. Not unless it was something incredibly important.

"Chia sent a message, threatening to kill herself," Ayumi explained. "We had to do something."

"Utahime went with Nanami?" Relief washed over him, albeit temporary. Nanami's calm, strategic mind was perfect for a risky mission. But Utahime anywhere near that brute of a Zen'in…

"And with Mai," Ayumi added, looking far too pleased with herself.

"Utahime and Mai will go in unobserved while Nanami creates a diversion at the front?" Gojo guessed, piecing together the plan easily.

Ayumi's face lit up even further. "Yes! And we identified the spy! We fed her false information about a daring rescue mission involving you and…"

"Naoya will see right through it," Gojo groaned. "He's stupid, but not that stupid. Damn!"

###

"I think I'm offended," Naoya drawled, the sneer evaporating from his face as he squinted first at Mai, then at Utahime. "Did you really think I was that stupid? I know that Gojo isn't in the country. You realized who my spy was and tried to plant false information. So. What is this? A pathetic rescue mission?"

Utahime's stomach clenched in fear. Being a cautious person, Utahime had even considered such a worst case scenario: Running into Naoya Zen'in on his home turf and being in the deepest of shits afterwards. Yet, in the limited time for planning, a concrete solution had eluded her. Overthinking wouldn't save her now. She could only use what she had.

Swallowing all fear, Utahime tilted her head, her voice calm. "Does that mean one of your forebears was a Iori?" she asked, because running wasn't an option but talking always was. And if she was really, really careful, she might as well try to influence Naoya through the power of her voice. Calm him. Confuse him. That would buy them time.

"How should I know what she was," Naoya's cruel eyes glided over her body in a very suggestive way. "I only know Taira killed that shrine maiden eventually. Fucked her virginal cunt too much, I reckon."

"You are disgusting," Mai's fists clenched and she took a menacing step towards Naoya.

"Nice to see you too, cousin," he grinned at her. "I see you've grown a pair of nice tits! You look ridiculous in that cheap school get-up though."

"Fuck you!" Mai spat on the ground in front of his feet.

"Oh, you're suggesting incest? That turns me on like nothing else!" Naoya dipped a hand into his hakama bottoms and began to move it like he meant to jerk off in front of them. Mai flinched and Naoya threw his head back, roaring with laughter. "As if anyone would ever touch themselves because of someone as plug-ugly as you!" He guffawed. "Pleeeease!"

It all fit, didn't it: Taira had indeed married one of her ancestors. The alternative reality Michizane had shown her was false, wishful thinking on his part, perhaps. Or something else? She shouldn't let herself be manipulated by michizane's mind games. She couldn't like him.

With a calculated smile, Utahime addressed Naoya again. "It seems we share a distant lineage."

Naoya's eyes narrowed. "Why, are you into incest too?" A flicker of confusion danced in his cruel gaze. Then, a sudden realization halted him in his tracks. "Wait a damn minute! Does that make me in-laws with that white-haired dolt?!" Disgust contorted his face. "Ugh, the very thought! Get a divorce lawyer, stat!"

"What is he saying, Sensei?" Mai gulped.

"Ah, is it still a secret? Sorry to say that failure couldn't help himself," Naoya grinned toothily. "All fine by me, Iori cunts and Gojo dicks, a match made in hell. I tried to warn him but he didn't want to listen. It always ends badly. Very badly. For the Gojo dicks."

What was Naoya insinuating? With a jolt, Utahime recalled something her father had mentioned last year. The animosity between the Iori and the Gojo clans stretched back generations, their fates intertwined in mysterious ways. Now, with a chill, she understood it probably went much further back, the chains of fate far more binding than she ever imagined.

There is something only a Iori can give them, Utahime realized with a shudder. Hence the obsession.

Naoya, fueled by his spiteful rage, continued his tirade. "A pathetic clan, the Gojos, always teetering on the brink of extinction. When they have no Six Eyes, they have nothing..."

Utahime turned a deaf ear on his words. Her mind raced, searching for a connection between herself, her clan, and ancient sorcerers. Miko, the shrine maidens, once performed a ritual called takusen. It allowed spirits to possess them, becoming a "medium" to communicate the divine will. Her cursed techniques were remnants of those old rituals. But there was another important aspect of a miko's communication with the gods—mukoku or dream revelation, where a kami appeared in a dream to communicate. Vengeful spirits were gods in many people's eyes.

Hastily, Utahime located her mobile phone in the pocket of her kimono. Those dreams… not dreams. More like possessions. And that domain expansion…

"Uhm, what are you doing?" Naoya sneered, suspicion creeping into his voice.

Utahime ignored him, her eyes scanning the screen. 53 missed calls from Gojo. 31 messages, the top one screaming in bold letters: "DON'T MOVE I'M COMING!" She met Naoya's bewildered face.

"Tell me more about your ancestor," she demanded. "Do you know his exact birthdate?"

Naoya blinked, surprised by the question, but answered readily. "27th March 903. The fuck why?"

Utahime's breath hitched. The pieces slammed together with horrifying clarity though she was far from understanding it all. Michizane died on 26th March 903.

Utahime looked at Naoya again and was gripped by a strong urge to laugh. At that moment, she felt almost sorry for him. Here he was, the epitome of Zen'in arrogance, utterly clueless. He, and the entire clan for that matter, were mere pawns. The Kamo clan too, all of them caught in a grand game of bloody rivalry not even their own.

There were stories, not taken seriously by anyone because it was common knowledge they existed solely to anger the Zen'ins. These stories claimed that Taira no Masakado was only a reincarnation of Sugawara no Michizane. But if it was in fact the truth… then he got to marry a Iori after all—and have children with her.

"Was their first child a son?" She asked though she already knew.

"Yes, and so what?" Judging from his expression, Naoya seemed to think she had gone mad. Maybe she had.

"Four friends," the words tumbled out of her mouth, a fragment of a forgotten memory, another puzzle piece clicking into place. She had met them. She should be able to identify them. "There were four friends..."

She was cut short by a blinding purple flash that detonated with a deafening roar. The very foundation of the compound shook, sending tremors that seemed to vibrate through their bones.

"Holy shiiit!" Mai shrieked.

A monstrous dust cloud, colossal as a mountain, rose from the area of the front gate, rolling menacingly towards them. It was Gojo, alright. There was no other sorcerer who could announce his arrival with such a spectacular display of raw power.

"Hei! To me!" Naoya roared, already sprinting towards the source of the chaos without even another glance at them.

"This is our chance," Utahime gripped Mai's sleeve and yanked the younger girl in the opposite direction. "Let's hurry and find Chia!"

The first building they entered was empty. So was the second and the third. There were screams and shouts reaching them from the main entrance. People were running around like headless chicken. The air hung thick with a strange, cloying sweetness, like overripe fruit. Their search continued with a frantic urgency. Building after building yielded the same unsettling emptiness.

It was almost a relief to come across three servants, a weathered gardener, a young maid, and a portly cook, huddled together in a doorway leading to the inner courtyard. Their faces were pale, eyes wide with a confusion bordering on panic. The gardener still clutched his watering can. The maid's hands trembled around a basket of laundry, forgotten halfway to its destination. The cook, sweat clinging to his brow, held a large cleaver.

"What is happening?" The cook choked out the question, his voice a tremor amidst the clamor of battle. His grip tightened on the cleaver, knuckles turning white. "What should we do?"

Mai stepped forward. "It's alright," she said, forcing a reassuring smile that faltered at the edges. "This isn't a real threat, just a misunderstanding. Do any of you know where they might be keeping the woman who was kidnapped?"

The maid, her face streaked with tears, let out a groan. "Is it because of her? I knew she brought bad luck!"

The gardener, however, seemed to recognize Mai. His gaze darted nervously between her and Utahime before he spoke. "Ogi Zen'in's household, young miss," he croaked, his voice barely audible.

Utahime felt a jolt. Mai's smile vanished completely, replaced by a grimace. Her hand instinctively clenched into a fist, and a pale cast settled over her face.

"Damn," Mai muttered, teeth gritted. Ogi Zen'in—Mai's own father. Definitely not someone they wished to encounter.

"You can show me the way, I'll…"

"No! I'll come with you, Sensei," Mai cut her off, shaking her head. She already began running again, a resolute expression etched on her face.

Soon, another structure loomed before them, sprawling and slightly bigger than the others. Utahime shoved open the heavy doors, a sick dread swirling in her gut. A wave of stale air washed over them.

"She would be in one of the smaller houses in the back," Mai explained. One of the lesser women. A Zen'in only by name, that implied.

They navigated the labyrinthine corridors, the silence broken only by the pounding of their feet on the tatami floor and the distant ruckus from the fighting. When they reached the location Mai had described, a gasp escaped her lips and a hand flew to her mouth, mirroring Utahime's own rising nausea. She forced it down, the urgency of finding Chia overriding everything else.

In the center of the room lay a young Zen'in guard, no older than Mai. His robes were stained crimson, the light extinguished from his wide, vacant eyes. Utahime's heart lurched.

"Stay here," Utahime ordered Mai, her voice laced with barely suppressed fear. She forced herself forward, leaving the dead Zen'in behind. Just a few meters away, slumped against the wall, lay another guard—his throat slit clean by a sharp blade. The air was heavy with the metallic tang of blood.

The screams then began, a high-pitched, terrified wail that echoed through the corridors. Almost tripping over her feet in her haste, Utahime followed the sound, her resolve hardening with each desperate cry. She burst into a bedroom and…

Chia and her son lay on a futon, their unseeing eyes wide with terror. Blood had drenched the fabric and the floor in a deep red that looked almost black in the meager light.

In the corner of the room cowered Mayu—the girl with Gojo's hair and Gojo's eyes. Blood dripped from her hands and face, her white hair completely drenched, her once blue eyes milky white. It took all of Utahime's strength not to scream in horror when those unearthly eyes moved to her face.

The child whimpered and extended both bloodstained arms towards Utahime. "Take me home, mother," her voice a high-pitched, broken plea. "Use me well."

The words, twisted parodies of innocence, sent a fresh wave of nausea crashing over Utahime. This wasn't Mayu, the child unfortunate enough to be born into the Gojo family as a "Spare". This was something else entirely, something monstrous and terrifying that wore the face of a little girl.