Chapter Text
Sakura was sure that she died at the hands of her two teammates. She was persuadedthat her suicide killed her. That should have been the case.
By the age of four, one awakens their curse technique. By the age of four, Sakura awakened her past life's memories, completely dumbfounded in the middle of her 'lady lessons'— something the Zenin put their female clan members through because, you know, clan typical sexism.
While her caregiver was watching the child perform a tea ceremony, Sakura dropped the expensive tea cup—"f*ck."
"Naoya-sama!"
Blinking a couple of times, she began to look bewildered before realizing just what the f*ck was happening. Most would probably start to faint or freak out in her situation, but her mentality has always been a bit off—wardoes that to you. Sakura looked down at her hands, expecting blood or hands protruding from her chest, but all she got were broken glass shards.
"Naoya-sama, shall I call for the clan doctor?"
Dumbfounded, Sakura's vision blurred between reality and what she thought was reality.
Everything was small and short, and why was there a woman in a kimono starting at her like she was holding Hashirama's nut sack? The woman's hands reached out to touch her forehead, but her hand grabbed the woman's wrist, not feeling her fingers connect. Usually, when she grabbed someone's wrist, she felt her nails as if her entire hand could wrap around it.
Apparently not. She let go of the woman, looking at her hand like she was modelling for a company, twisting and turning it, inspecting the perfectly manicured nails. So, she has the hands of a child, butwho the hell manicures a child's nails?
"Naoya-sama—"
Sakura pays no mind to the teacher barking her name every second and decides to stand up, wobbling from the lack of balancer she was used to. She's a child's height, and from what she can tell, she doesn't have chakra either. To be sure, she plops her butt on the engawa and concentrates some on her hands. Nothing. Just what the f*ck was happening. Sakura blinks as she runs a hand through her black hair.Black hair?Did she reincarnate as an Uchiha? Doubtful, with the lack of chakra circulating in every living thing. It's not like there wasn't anything—something swirled around in nature within the garden. Plants, trees, and people had an outline of thatsomethingshe could see within the depths of her mind. It was like seeing people's chakra signatures without the chakra pathway system. She had it, and so did this random woman calling her name—
"Naoya-sama! Please come back to your lesson—"
Sakura stood up and turned around abruptly. "Naoya."
The name on her tongue felt foreign but not unwelcome, as if it had been part of this body since birth.
"Yes, Naoya-sama?"
"That's my name?"
"Yes, Naoya-sama."
Sakura seemed to be nothing more than the name of her first life. The name Naoya is something she could get used to people calling her, but Sakura would still refer to herself as Sakura inside of her mental domain. Sakura bit the fingernail of her thumb, still deep in thought— "Can I take the rest of the day off? I'm not feeling well."
"Shall I call for the doctor?"
"No."
"As you wish, Naoya-sama," the woman bowed in response, watching the child leave her behind, retreating in the opposite direction of Naoya's room. "Naoya-sama, your room is the other way."
Like something clunked her on the side of the head, Sakura spun her body around mechanically.
According to the other servants working around the east wing of the clan compound, her name is Naoya Zenin, and she's the daughter of Naobito Zenin. As most were blurry, Sakura couldn't recall any memory from the past four years. It's not uncommon when the mind goes through something like this. Sakura had never encountered reincarnated people in her years of medical practice. Still, the brain going through something traumatic can cause temporary amnesia, which was probably her situation at the moment. A four-year-old brain wasn't meant to hold the mental capacity of an adult.
Instead of sleeping, she investigated the compound. It wasn't unusual for people to see her racing around, which she took full advantage of. Gathering a good sense of surroundings is always the first thing a Shinobi does— stealth or no stealth. There wasn't much Sakura could do in a body like this. She was tiny, skinny, and way out of shape. From what she gathered, the whole housing system reminded her of the Hyuuga Clan compound with hundreds of houses connected, separated by wings; in her case, Sakura lived in the east wing, a few doors from Naoya's siblings— four brothers.
Masamune and Nobuo are boys with the same mother. According to the servant's gossip mill, both were older than she in body and ego.
Every child of her father seemed to possess names that began with 'N' since most children were from different mothers and concubines of Naobito's. The woman's first child would be named by the father and the second by the mother.
The other two brothers were from separate mothers— Nao and Naoki. Sakura had to say her father had no creativity regarding names. It's like he randomly picked one from a scroll.
Sakura made her way from the east wing, exploring the rest of the compound— various training halls, housing for lower-ranked clan members, and the unit for the second branch of family members, her father's brother and his wife. The clan was big, about half the size of the Uchiha population, before they were killed. Sakura assumes that many branch family members had their affairs with other women, bringing children in and possibly with servants. Her father's siblings probably had concubines like him, making the family even more complicated.
What a pain in the ass.
Sakura slumped against a wall outside the training hall with a scowl.
"What's Naobito's brat doing here?" a voice asked, leaning against the dojo's entrance wall.
Green eyes looked up, annoyed at the man, before looking back at the ground. "Bored."
"Don't you have a wifey lesson or something?" he said, crossing his arms and cracking his neck. "You might want to get out of here before your father finds you skipping 'em."
"Let him."Beat me, bruise me, whatever. She didn't care any more.
The man co*cked an eyebrow, scoffed, and went back to the other sweaty, shirtless men training with half their Hakama covering them.
The changes going on with Naoya-sama wereodd. Since her mother's passing, Teruko, Naoya's caretaker and teacher, has raised the girl for the last three years. She used to be boisterous in personality, a tad air-headed, but intelligent enough to learn how to be a proper wife— the entire purpose of her birth. The sad truth is that her father only spawned her for the potential prospect of marriage the Gojo clan proposed to the Zenin. When the news of Satoru's birth hit the country, so did the Gojo clan head's idea to secure the two clans' never-ending feud since the Heian Era. They were tired of the sh*t that happened in the shadows— hired assassins, sorcerers dying on mission because they couldn't work together, etc. So much so, the Gojo clan threatened Naobito's position in the council, his position as the clan leader, and his spot in the Jujutsu Society. Either give the clan a daughter for their boy, or lose everything. Since the birth of the six-eyes, the clan held the top position in Jujutsu society and had a say in everything.
Thus, Naoya was born. Unwanted by her father and preceded in death by her mother, the child's upbringing was tragic. Teruko did her best to serve as her mother figure, but she also remembered her purpose— to teach the girl what she needed to know about being the wife of the Gojo clan or die. She tried her best to discipline the unruly child, but soon realized that Naoya was achild. Not an object like the rest of the clan viewed her. Teruko's life might depend on Naoya's decisions, but she's old and comes to terms with life. She has a family, and they moved away from her. Raising Naoya reminded her of the day of her children— she dared to think the child was like a daughter to her.
When Naoya turned four, her demeanour changed from unruly to something forbearing. Like she had been through a dark alley, done some dark sh*t, and came out a different person when coming into the light.
The child started taking her lessons seriously and exceeded Teruko's expectations—almost as if she had been trained in this art before. Once she showed her skills, she asked for time off. Teruko granted it to her because, after a few months, there was nothing left to teach her. Naoya-sama had memorized all forms of Japanese writing, how to scale a proper tea ceremony, everything regarding posture, what outfit to wear at each time of the day, how to play the shamisen, etc.
Whatever changed the girl, Teruko was concerned. No child should act like they had fought a war.
Sakura didn't know why Teruko was dolling her up in the silky sh*t, but a furisode kimono with the Zenin Clan symbol on the back was being wrapped around her. A light shade of pink dusted her eyelids and lips, with a pale shade of powder on her cheeks. Looking into the mirror, Sakura saw Naoya. The only thing from her previous life was the jade-green eyes staring back at her. Being dressed up like this had been an old memory.
Mebuki and Kizashi bought her first kimono for a festival when she was four. That was the last time she saw a kimono because her focus had been on Sasuke and the academy.
Teruko tugged Sakura's black hair into two dango buns, accepted by a green hairpiece to match her eyes. Sakura touched her cheek; it was too clean. She could vividly see the blood splatter on her cheek from the many missions she had been almost killed on. All of that was washed away when Teruko took that hand and clenched it with a soft smile. Sakura didn't deserve Teruko. Having known her for only a few months, the older woman had already grown on her. It was merely reminding her of the sweeter side of Tsunade.
Following the split of Team 7—Sasuke defecting, Naruto's training trip with Jiraiya, and Kakashi being reinstated into ANBU—Sakura was left alone. If it hadn't been her resolve to pursue her ninja life, Tsunade would have never taken her as her student. If it weren't for Tsunade, Sakura would have never been safe from the horror the future brought.
Sakura missed the hugs and late-night discussions Tsunade and she had. Maybe Teruko kept Sakura sane or her uncanny ability to adapt to things.
"Naoya-sama, are you ready to meet your father?
Sakura nodded, silently taking the older woman's hand, but her hand had been gestured away.
"Remember, I can't hold your hand in the publicity of the compound— I am a servant, and you're the master."
"It's itchy."
"Please try not to itch your bum while we wait to meet your father," Teruko reminded Sakura. "It is unbecoming of the clan leader's daughter."
"I'm four," Sakura reminded her.
"And a lady of the Zenin Clan, one of the noble families in the Jujutsu world. Your father holds a seat without the counsel of elders, and you must act the part of his daughter," Teruko countered.
Here they are, sitting in seiza style at the front door of Naobito's living quarters. She is dressed up like a doll about to sign a peace treaty with a foreign country.
"Is this meeting so important?"
"This meeting is to determine your future," Teruko reminded. It is to determine your worth as a future wife and which master you will serve when you turn into a woman."
"What if I get a sex change?"
Teruko uncomfortably shifted with annoyance and cleared her throat. "Where did you hear such wording—"
A door slid open abruptly, revealing a male attendant. "Lady Naoya and servant Teruko, you may enter the master's quarters."
As they practised, Sakura stepped into the room first, holding her head high but not too high to dominate the male gaze. Her hands rest on each other, over the left, hidden underneath her sleeves. She was royalty within the Jujutsu world and would act like it because Sakura understood Teruko's life was on the line. After studying the clan more, she understood what kind of clan the Zenin were— misogynistic sh*t stains.
Gracefully kneeling on the tatami floor, she lowers her head, nose covered by her sleeves, as she gazes at her 'father' to await his signal to acknowledge her. Judging by the lower part, both of the men were dressed in formal Yukata. Sakura peered into the outline of their chakra-like energy inside their stomach, gathering that both were the size of Jounin reserves. There was something in this world that gave people a boost of power, and Sakura was determined to figure it out.
"Is this her?" a gruff voice asked.
"Yes, this is what you ordered."
"What can she do?"
Sakura heard his hand go upward as she raised her head.Why are they talking about Naoya like an object?
"Daughter, demonstrate what your caretaker has taught you."
A full hour passed of Sakura playing the shamisen, writing a sample of poetry, and making tea through a simple ceremony. Her movement were graceful, ladylike, and enough to satisfy the man beside her father.
"Indeed, she is the perfect material for my son, but what else can she do?"
Is this an arranged marriage? Naoya is four.This was starting to piss her off.
"What do you mean?" Naobito struggled to sound civil.
"She is a bright child, but what about applying cursed energy?"
"We do not teach that to the other population in my clan. Their purpose is not outside the home," Naobito explained.
"Your ways of thinking are too old; if you want this arrangement to work, teach the child to use cursed energy— I can sense it brewing within her. Her purpose may be in the home, but what if danger arises and my son is not there to protect his family? His wife must be strong to protect the home and the future children. You must have forgotten that my son has people out for his neck since the day my wife birthed him. He holds the six eyes and limitless— his wife should also be strong," the other man countered.
Naobito's mouth pursed into a thin line.
"This child is your daughter. If she does not have a cursed technique—though she is at the age one would awaken—then teach her how cursed energy works. I will return when she turns five to see the impending results. I hope she proves worthy because your position within the Jujutsu worlddependson it."
With that, whoever that man was, he left. Sakura caught a little glimpse of his white hair.
White hair—Kakashi!Sakura reached out, catching the shaking hand reaching out with her other hand. Parts of her wished for him to be here and comfort her, but he was alive in another world—she was the one who put him to sleep so he wouldn't have to witness another tragic story of a team.
Sakura mentally scolded herself for letting memories get the best of her, failing to notice her father looming over her like a lion. His brown eyes gazed down at her, sending shivers down her spine as she was again reminded of the battlefield. For not pouring her entire attention on him, the back of her father's hand almost hit her cheek. She called for her chakra out of instinct, but that chakra-like energy responded instead. Her hand was tiny yet cadaverous, with natural control over any form of energy. She had been bred to use this energy and used it like she would have to stop an attack with chakra. There was a shield between their skins—only the Sharingan could pick it up—and a strengthening of every muscle within her hand that had Noabito floored.
The grip let go at the same time as his daughter's cursed energy snapped. Tendons in her hand strained, but what had her hyperventilating was the premature hint of danger. Anything that threw Sakura's Shinobi instincts on fire had her brain drowning her into fight mode. Her heartbeat was racing as she tried to calm down. Naobito glowered his eyes at her, walking towards the exit.
"Learn to control that cursed energy enough to impress the Gojo clan leader; otherwise, it'syourlife on the line."
Sakura looked up at Naobito, within a second, wholly composed. There was no hint of the fear he saw in her eyes when he was about to slap her. Sakura sat herself up, dignified like an aged, battle-hardened Shinobi. She now knew what this chakra-like energy was and was determined to learn it like the human body. It was something to build her old identity and feel like her old self again. Sakura had once started at rock bottom and forcefully paved her way through the ranks—she'll do it again if she has to.
She could not do anything about this arranged marriage until she had a firmer grip on her cursed energy.
Teruko was worried because the one who was supposed to teach her about cursed energy was her, but applying it was something Lady Naoya had to do. She had one month to teach this child about cursed energy, and things were not good. The blow that Sakura had blocked from her father had been laced with cursed energy, albeit too much, which caused a bad wrist sprain.
Naoya absorbed her lessons like a dehydrated person stranded in the desert, but Teruko never saw Naoya apply cursed energy or even try. If the child didn't get her sh*t together, they were both dead.
Sakura had no problem using cursed energy. The process of adapting it to herself was slow and more complicated than chakra had ever been. Without a pathway system to navigate it automatically, she had to train her body through muscle memory to process it through each joint and muscle automatically. That alone would take the month. She didn't really give a sh*t about impressing some clan head. He could find another bride for his precious son.
While meditating, manually moving cursed energy through her body for hours at a time, the sounds of little feet trampled into her garden that Teruko worked her ass off to maintain—two boys, one a year older and the other six years older. The eldest one looked like her, with a rounder face and hazel in his eyes. They had different mothers but the same father who looked like them in his youth. The six-year-old poked one of the fish from her pond, killing it.
Then he kept on poking it with a stick, laughing like a psychopath—given this clan produced them frequently. Sakura calmly walked up to them, giving them a dead stare. "What the f*ck did the fish ever do to you?"
The six-year-old glared at her before poking it again as they blindly ignored her.
Sakura crossed her arms, feeling the long sleeves of her furisode. She had given up arguing with Teruko about having more comfortable outfits because the old woman never budged. Then she kicked up a stray rock from the ground into her right hand. She unravelled her hand, so the rock sat on her palm before adding a smudge of cursed energy, and flicking it at the stick, poking the fish, which made it break into two. That caught their attention. The six-year-old began to growl like a feral dog before going in like a Pikachu for a Pokemon-style headbutt.
She sidestepped, tripping the boy's ass in the air before giving him a wedgie that caused a very unmanly groan. Forgetting about the older brother, Sakura felt a punch laced with copious amounts of cursed energy. His name was Nobuo, her father's heir candidate. It didn't surprise her, the ten-year-old was influential in his own right. She had just begun experimenting with her cursed energy, while he had been at this since he could walk. If only she weren't stuck in this brat's body—
The punch made her stomach church, earning her prize of stomach contents on her kimono. She held her stomach as she threw the last of it up.
"Stupid bitch," the Nobuo cursed before turning away. "Rememberyourplace."
Sakura stood up, wiping her mouth, teeth seething. She wasn't typically the one to fight dirty, but this was different. All these clan members are trash; commonly, people throw up in a dustbin or toilet. She would be generous and remind him of his place in this clan. Balling up the undigested food, she chucked it with cursed energy at the back of his head, hopefully using enough force to target a specific pressure point to knock him the f*ck out. That didn't happen.
He shivered, feeling the contents race down his back and settle into his black hair. Dramatically, he took a stringy piece of food out of his hair and stared at it like it was the end of the world. Apparently, he didn't have the stomach for this type of situation. He ran out of the garden before throwing up at the entrance of her living quarters, leaving his brother behind.
Sakura searched for one of the cleaning girls and asked them to clean up some trash in her garden. The last thing the cleaner expected was her brother Masamune lying on the ground. Judging by her scream, she probably thought he was dead.
Sometime during the night, Sakura felt the presence of a man jump through her window—she retaliated, throwing her pillow at them. They most likely didn't expect her to notice them, but her sense of cursed energy had heightened since meditating. She could sense anyone within a certain radius, keeping track of them even with her eyes closed. Cursed energy reacted like chakra—giving her a good sense of what kind of person the user was or the feel of how their attack patterns worked. This person stood like a stone wall, powerful in every hit. Evidently, she didn't stand a chance against him, but that didn't mean she wouldn't go down trying. He earned himself a few bruises before knocking the former ninja out.
When Sakura woke, she found herself in the menacing presence of many curse spirits bearing down on her, waiting for a particular signal too much on her skin. A flight of stairs above her made of cement, her father stood with his arms crossed, and two Kukuru members stood beside him. The sound of keys rang with the slightest movement, leading to Sakura looking at a metal door behind the trio. The light source came from a single candle pillar attached to the wall on both sides of the two-person metal door.
"When I said learn about cursed energy because your life is on the line,I meant it. Next time, keep your eyes low when you meet my heir," Naobito said, the voice echoing through the cemented walls, telling Sakura that the area was bigger than she initially thought. "Maybe this will teach you to listen, should you survive."
Sakura stared at the two light sources being blown out in her blue cotton sleepwear. The metal door locking must have been the signal because three spirits reached for her with their deformed mouths. One latch on her arm before she forcibly yanked it off, a chunk of flesh going with it. Her blood trailed down its mouth like saliva. She only had two weeks of knowledge of cursed energy flowing within her mind. None of her strikes with it were strong enough even to be called punches. It was like she had been stripped bare and expected to survive in the forest of death again. At least, she had the academy three at the time. This time, she hasnothing.
A cursed spirit elongated its neck from the ceiling three inches away from her face like a knock-off Orochimaru. The tongue circles her face, seeing with it because the face has no eyes. The moonlight dripped through the little, steel-lined basem*nt window with bulletproof glass. A talisman was tapped on the outside of it, probably keeping the cursed spirits from escaping. The barrier was enough to keep Sakura in here as well.
The urge to run had never been so strong in her life before since Kaguya. It was like a battlefield where corpses roamed, and she was the only one alive because of her seal. Naruto and Sasuke weren't coming to save her from Madara this time. She let herself selfishly die so that her two teammates would learn through her death to get along for once. Not once did she think about her parents or the hurt it would have on the people she left behind. Perhaps this life was the payment for her sins, a divine retribution from the universe. Closing her eyes, she broke out a silent sob as she felt the curse energy of the creature three inches from her, gap open like a hole as she imagined it was consuming her body whole—
Run, and don't f*cking stop— her mind begged.
So she ran. She didn't know where, just somewhere where she wasn't surrounded. She saw the moonlit corner of the room asking her to come. Not only that, but she stepped on the ground, and the next thing she knew, she was there. It was like her body used the body flicker technique. Four steps later, she kept going, slowly having her eyes adjust to her surroundings. She saw the cursed spirits move slowly as she determined her next movement. She felt the slap of a claw grind on her back through one movement, and she froze in a frame for one second. One second was all it took for the claw to hold her face down into the cement. Green eyes glanced at the cracks forming in the cement from its claws. Luckily, none were in her back, but the weight was crushing her lungs. Her yells turned into the croak of a ran-over frog on a gravel road. She stuck her fingers into the cement, hell-bent on fighting back. The strength in her four-year-old body wasn't enough to sustain the power she forced her cursed energy to put into her muscles. Tendons snapped, gaining another source of pain.
With the cursed spirit holding her down, she couldn't use whatever helped her body flicker everywhere.
Sakura fought to her last breath,literally. This body was unable to handle the strength she was used to fighting with. Not even her twelve-year-old self could at first when Tsunade taught her how to punch a boulder. She had broken too many bones and muscles to gain enhanced strength. The only thing that kept her going was the medical ninjutsu that healed those injuries. But here? She's f*cked. Sakura doesn't even know if there is a way to heal things like medical ninjutsu could. This wasn't her world; it was Naoya's. She's the parasite of the body.
"A binding vow is a pact made with jujutsu that creates conditions for themselves or agreements with others. Typically, such a thing is made to gain something, but first, you must lose something. Not even a sorcerer can make a—"
Why is Teruko's lesson coming to mind? How ironic—yes, very ironic. A binding vow needed something to sacrifice to gain something. The Hundred Healings Seal sacrificed years of their lives to reproduce cellular restoration quickly. Why couldn't a binding vow work in the same context?
Sakura forcibly divided her cursed energy into two sources, leaving one for usage and two others to pool together— something positive bloomed inside of her as energy wrapped around her fingers, holding herself from being crushed. The torn muscles began to tear and heal repeatedly. The realization of sourcing two pools of cursed energy equalled healing without sacrifice moulded inside her mind, but the cost of how much cursed energy it took made her curse at the universe. Sakura required something else to sacrifice; she required more cursed energy to survive. Sakura was already born with good genetics and ample reserves, but two negatives made a positive. The more serious the injury, the more energy required. She required storage space, and she required more cursed energy now.
Finding it was the issue. Can she dive into her life force to create such a thing? On the outside, Sakura struggled to keep herself at bay as she held her body with the bit of positive energy she had left. She searched for her source of cursed energy that went beyond the stomach, like searching for chakra. It was like swimming in a vast mental ocean of darkness until you found the light. She found herself staring at her innermost naturalistic world of herself that protected her from Ino's mental invasion in the Chunin Exams. Everything was peaceful, like sitting beneath a tree and watching the clouds. Another set of doors welcomed Sakura to the darker side of her mind in the brush of all that. The darker side was full of vines and poisonous flowers that spelt out death. Before the light pulled her back, she visited this site before waking up in a new world—the introduction of the afterlife. Exploring this insane part of herself was the key to overcoming death. There was a cross, and her body lay on it, pinned to it with nails. Sakura pulled out the nails in an attempt to save the last shred of her sanity.
The person she saved from those nails smiled menacingly, inhumanly, as she bit into Sakura's neck. Her face contorted into the many people she left behind, realizing her actions. Those people wanted to hurt her for leaving her behind. They blamed her for her selfish act. All Sakura could do was drown in the blood. She went from her old body while she swam to a new one. Naoya's soul wrapped around Sakura's silhouette before coming together to escape the harsh reality in a last-ditch effort. Still, Sakura ate it up—through the blood, sweat, and tears this new body was shedding on the outside.
She wanted to live even if Sakura was dead.
Five years' worth of life sacrificed to live for this one were met. Five years of life gave Sakura a new link to her soul.
Sakura felt power vibrate throughout Naoya's body as a seal—the vow she had made with her very soul. The memory of her past life's soul synchronized with this life as commitments were made. Sakura had the storage capacity of five years' worth of Naoya's curse energy reserves moulded into her brain. A percentage of that was divided to keep her brain from exploding into a million pieces from the immense amount. Her innate technique of Naoya's soul fused with her soul as she claimed the body as hers—the technique linked to the seal, allowing quick healing applications and power. None of that would affect the technique's twenty-four frames should Sakura decide to use it at the same time her seal activates.
A binding vow never felt so liberating.
The power beneath her fingertips felt like a monstrosity. It was like her very own Kurama lingering inside her brain awaiting usage.
Sakura yelled like a feral animal high on newfound power as she lodged her fingers into the ground, slamming the cursed spirit on its side. She stood on it, forcing her hand into its core, its heart, before ripping it out. Long veins of green and purple scattered the ground, decorating her pyjamas like an artist's painting. If the old Sakura would see her now, she would run. Fighting like an animal had never been something Sakura thought she could be capable of, but if it meant survival, so be it. She'll fight like a god-damn animal— primal instinct and sheer power.
After embracing the newfound knowledge of the technique engraved into her brain, she used it, using it within her muscles and healing them as her punches broke her child-like bones. Sakura slaughtered the rest with her fists, forcing positive cursed energy into their bodies—seeing as it was deadly to cursed spirits, and taking her rage out on them. She refused to let death slaughter her without living a whole life in Naoya's body. She would show the world that she was capable of living with herself. Sakura wasn't going to die for other people any more. She was going to start living for herself.
Sakura noticed herself breathing through the cold air as her body calmed down from the rush of power. The cold air never bothered her anyway. The pyjamas kept her skin warm and made the application of positive energy through her metabolism—something she often found herself doing with medical chakra when she was cold. Positive energy worked in the same context if one had enough to play around with.
The last cursed spirit looked at her, about to strike, but Sakura was faster, receiving their movements. Using her innate technique more and more, she could almost predict movements with her eyes by looking at the silhouettes of their souls through their signatures and muscle movements. She grabbed the talon, tearing it from the beast's body, falling in a dance with the musical lyrics of its bird-like screams.
She smiled and played around with it a little before euthanizing it.
Sakura punched the door several times before breaking the locks off—the seal attached to itsnappedfrom her cursed energy. Her father was nowhere in sight, but the two Kukuru unit members were there. Her eyes zeroed into the one that disturbed her sleep, stepping behind him like a silent ghost before taking his trachea from the back of his throat while mid-air. Before the other one could make a peep, she kicked off the body of the other man and grabbed the mouth of the other one, pushing the back of his head into the ground.
He coughed on her hand, but before she could do anything further, someone grabbed the back of her collar, lifting her into the air. When she tried to kick the person, they grabbed her foot despite the impact. She tried to predict their next move, but they lacked any semblance of cursed energy. Sakura disappeared from his grip, every kick and punch being blocked by the man as her form blurred in and out.
Who is this?
He had no cursed energy, but they could block her attacks without energy. That didn't make sense. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at the man studying her.
Toji didn't expect that— the brat possessing Noabito's technique, after hearing that he threw his only daughter in the pit intending to kill her. Then she came crawling back like a spawn from hell. One month ago, people gossiped about the princess learning about curse energy to impress the Gojo clan head, and nobody expected her to understand it within a month. Not even Nobuo mastered cursed energy in that duration. His technique of shadow manipulation put him at the top of their candidates, but if Naoya had been born a male, she'd be ahead of him. The Projection Technique was more valuable than manipulating shadows.
If Naobito found out about this, he would definitely skin this brat alive.
He only came down here to investigate why such a surge of cursed energy invaded his senses in his sleep. Nothing in this clan could disturb his sleep unless they had a blade at his throat. The source was from a brat. A f*cking child. "What the f*ck do you think you're doing?"
"You have no cursed energy," the girl observed.
"Yeah,no sh*t, why are you attacking me?"
"Because I thought you were one of the guards who threw me down there."
"And you decided to kill them because they threw you in the pit? Cry me a f*cking river."
"What of it? It's none of your business."
Sassy little princess. "I make it my business when it disturbs my sleep."
"Well, those bastards woke me up and threw me down there," Naoya explained. "That's why they are dead."
A silence between them became a mutual understanding. Nobody likes being disturbed in their sleep— fair game, then. "Touché."
Convincing the man was easier than she thought. The moment he revealed his presence, she knew he wouldn't have trouble killing her or any of the clan members.
Sakura disappeared, finding herself standing in front of her father's bedroom door. The thoughts about slitting his throat in his sleep came to mind, but what happens if he wakes? Then what? A whole community was on his side, including a counsel and numerous jujutsu clans. If she were to kill him now, they would label her as an enemy. Sakura knew nothing about the Jujutsu World or the power of its forces. It's better to observe than jump the gun.
Naturally, she does not intend to make his life easier, either.
