Jujutsu Kaisen: Rebirth of Infinity
"Five lines. One daughter. Infinity reborn."
Post-Canon Divergent AU
- Breaks off from canon after Chapter 236 (Satoru's death)
- Shinjuku Showdown continues, but events diverge massively
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a/n: yall this took me tf out T-T
i hope i managed to portray the manga fight scenes properly because writing what's meant to be read in pictures is confusing sometimes - specially if writing quick-paced fights from a manga because sometimes you can't distinguish what's going on where T-T
CHAPTER 02: A Thousand Thunderbolts
He launched onto the battlefield, leaving no time to mourn my dad's death.
I was still kneeling, dizzy and shaking, thoughts a jumble of rage, sadness, and this gutting helplessness I couldn’t swallow down. My eyes refused to move—locked on Dad’s corpse. Split in half. Blood painting everything in a grotesque, suffocating crimson.
I didn't know anyone here - save for Shoko, Yuta and Maki.
Sukuna’s eyes met mine across the field. That same cruel, mocking smirk curled at his lips—like he knew exactly what he’d done. Like he enjoyed it.
My chest clenched. Burning. So much burning.
My lungs shrank. My throat closed.
Air. I need air.
ineedairineedairineedair—
A raw gasp tore out of my throat, hand flying to my neck as I choked it down. My eyes blurred with tears.
But the world didn’t stop spinning.
Kashimo was still in the air.
And the sky—
The sky was falling.
Despite vaulting 203 meters off the ground, a heaping chunk of ice towered above him. I managed to catch the two figures that stood atop it: a girl in a pale kimono, white hair fluttering like frost; and beside her, a blond man in black, face steeled with focus.
Assuming white hair's clothes and stance, she was the one in control of the ice.
The black guy—as much as I could see— pulled a Domain Expansion, engulfing himself and the white-hair in the black sphere. Nevertheless, the ice block continued plummeting towards the Earth.
I was never so awe-struck and scared shitless at the same time in my life.
Sukuna snapped his fingers.
The massive chunk of ice fractured mid-air with a deafening crack, fissures webbing across its surface like lightning veins before it erupted into a thousand jagged shards, each one glittering like glass in the dying light. The frozen debris fell down in a deadly cascade, slicing through the air as if the sky itself were falling apart.
Like judgment. Like death.
Yuta’s arm slammed around me, yanking me up and shielding my head with one hand.
“You’re either severely suicidal or just incredibly stupid,” he muttered, frowning.
I blinked up at him. His voice was shaking too.
“Why not both?” I whispered, too low to be heard.
At that moment, the only thing I wanted more than dying was to see Megumi.
Yuta smacked me lightly upside the head and carried me to the others.
I barely noticed the sudden attention. I kept close to him, trying not to flinch under the weight of their eyes—Dad’s students, his comrades. The ones who knew him.
Yuta wrapped an arm around me. I leaned in, focusing back onto the wreckage haunting the battlefield in front of us.
Clutched casually in Sukuna’s right hand—like it meant nothing—was a weapon. Sleek, black, with a brutal, elegant curve to it.
That was Yorozu’s cursed tool. Left behind as a product of her binding vow—her final, desperate act before she died. I remembered reading about it, tucked in some banned scrolls in Shoko’s study. A cursed tool forged from pure intention. Something that shouldn’t exist unless someone willingly gave up their life for it.
And Sukuna had it. Like it was nothing.
A cursed tool infused with the will to kill Sukuna.
Its cursed effect was supposed to manipulate electromagnetic force, amplifying electrical damage beyond what most could survive. Kamutoke should’ve been deadly. But—
My eyes flicked to Kashimo. Still standing. Still unfazed.
His cursed energy was fundamentally resistant to electricity. That was the one innate trait that could cancel out Kamutoke’s effect.
Sukuna knew. He wasn’t just fighting. He was taunting. Playing.
Even now, with a cursed tool born from love and madness and death in his hand, he was just warming up.
Kashimo's voice rolled over the battlefield like thunder—quiet, but impossible to ignore. The kind of voice that made your instincts brace for impact before your brain even caught up. "Sukuna."
"Did you earn the title of The Strongest? Or were you simply born as such?"
Sukuna's voice scraped down my spine like a curse made flesh—velvet over iron, calm and terrifying. Like someone who knew the world would kneel, eventually. "Who knows? I was born an unwanted, cursed little wrench. That much I can say."
"How can you connect with others? How can you love those beneath you, all while not knowing of weakness? That's something I never understood. I was always surrounded by those as feeble as the dirt beneath my feet." The moment he spoke, something in my body went still. Like even my blood was waiting to hear what he’d say.
It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t angry.
Like the universe paused just long enough for a god to speak.
"So, enlighten me. Is strength solitude? Or is the endless search for greater power simply a cross the strong must bear alone?"
Sukuna's voice was calm—too calm. Like a lion bored with the idea of eating yet another sheep. He chuckled, scratching the site of his head. "My, my. How greedy. You ask for so much. Sure, I'll teach you. Give me your best, revenant."
Kashimo flashed a grin as bright as his lightning, launching for Sukuna at sublime speed and rising his sword with grace only the gods have. Sukuna dodged without breaking a sweat, swiftly turning to the side.
The air around Kashimo rippled, humming with electricity so thick it felt like static crawling beneath my skin. His body shimmered—no, transformed—becoming something more. Like every nerve ending was a lightning rod, every muscle a conductor for the storm he wielded. My eyes widened.
Cursed technique Release. Mystic Beast: Amber.
It wasn’t just a technique. It was a total metamorphosis—turning him into a walking arsenal, every twitch and flex a potential weapon forged from raw electricity.
I could almost see the electric potential pulsing just beneath his skin, a glowing tide of energy ready to snap and crackle into violence.
Every step he took sparked the ground beneath him, every breath charged the air around us.
Facing Kashimo wasn’t just fighting a sorcerer.
It was facing a storm with teeth.
Sukuna was taken off guard as a barrage of non-stop, heavy fists collided with his face, sickening cracks echoing throughout the wreckage and chaos that was the battlefield and reverberating off the crushed buildings and debris.
I swallowed hard, watching Kashimo move like a storm made flesh.
Mystic Beast wasn’t just power. It was total command—electricity shaped by his body, bending every spark and bolt into a weapon.
It was so... raw. Brutal in its simplicity.
Dad’s Limitless cursed technique was elegant—control over infinity itself, a dance between space and time, a flawless barrier and blade.
Kashimo’s release, on the other hand? It was a raging tempest. No finesse, no fancy tricks. Just pure, unrelenting force.
There was a terrifying clarity to it. He doesn’t hold it back, I thought. Not even a sliver of it. The moment Kashimo released his cursed technique, it was like a storm god had been let loose. His body wasn’t just a vessel—it was a conductor. Every flicker of lightning, every electric scream of air—it belonged to him.
I understood it more than I wanted to.
His technique turned emotion into violence. Turned body into weapon.
Soulflare Convergence—my cursed technique—lived under my skin like a second soul, each element tethered to a different part of me—flame for rage, water for grief, earth for fear, wind for... hope? Maybe. I don't know.
The more I felt, the more it answered. The more it answered, the harder it was to stop.
Against techniques like Kashimo's and mine, precision would only get you killed. You either outrun the lightning or become the storm yourself. No other way to survive.
I swear I could see fear flickering in those flagitious eyes of Sukuna's. The ones that didn’t look at you. The ones that judged if you were even worth noticing. He dodged an attack, staggering back as he was—yet again—humbled by a devastating slam of Kashimo's fist to the temple.
I saw it all at once—how his body moved faster than thought, how the air vibrated around him in a frequency only he could hear.
Hajime wasn’t just controlling electricity. He was electricity at this point. His cursed technique didn’t just make him stronger—it rewrote the rules of being human.
He was accelerating his brain’s synapses, matching soundwaves to the natural frequencies of matter, vaporizing solid ground with a single directed burst of electro-magnetic radiation.
It was beautiful. It was horrifying.
That was the price—his body. Once his cursed technique hit its limit, there’d be nothing left to hold him together. He would just crumble.
That monster hadn’t even started yet.
My eyes dropped to the weapon in his hand—Kamutoke. Yorozu’s final vow. A cursed tool born from obsession.
He’d been waiting. Holding back. Delaying a transformation I hadn’t even realized he was capable of.
Apart from Reverse Cursed Technique... he has another way to restore his body.
One he can only use once.
A method he’d suspended this whole time—the final phase of his incarnation.
This was ritual. Chess. A countdown.
Sukuna hadn’t come to win. He’d come to become.
He emerged from dust and rubble—four arms, two faces. A mouth on his stomach. His full form. The utter doom of jujutsu and humanity as we know it.
I had watched gods rise before. But this?
I knew that power. I’d felt it, tasted it in the air like the stench of metal and the rot of death. It was ancient. Arrogant. Terribly patient. Like it had been waiting for this moment—for us—with fangs tucked behind a smile.
And it wasn’t just Sukuna. It was something older, something worse.
He wasn’t fighting Kashimo anymore.
He was unveiling himself. The real him.
My cursed energy spiked before I even realized I was scared.
Fire buzzed under my skin. Wind thrashed in my lungs. The earth inside me cracked—split—screaming something primal.
Soulflare Convergence. It reacts to how I feel. Always has.
And I think, in that moment, it thought we were going to die.
Not even the spirit bound to me stirred. Aki knew too. This wasn’t just danger.
I suddenly remembered something Dad once said.
“There are some things in this world that should’ve never been allowed to exist.”
He’d been smiling when he said it, joking with Shoko over instant ramen, but I’d never forgotten the weight in his voice.
This… this was one of those things.
And I’m not ready for it. I can fight. I can bleed. I can kill if I have to.
But I’m not ready for this.
I’m not ready to be the one who survives this and tells the world what we saw here.
And that’s what scares me most.
That for the first time in my life, I want to run.
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