⊠This world is strange. The people here are all familiar strangers to her, and itâs quite⊠disconcerting. Shiki doesnât think that sheâll ever be able to shake off the sense of wrongness that creeps up on her when she interacts with them.
Even though she knows that itâs not âthemâ who is âwrong.â
⊠Because âGojo Shikiâ does not exist in this world. There is only one Special Grade sorcerer leading the Gojo Clan, and itâs Gojo Satoru. Head of the Gojo Clan, the Strongest sorcerer in the world, the Honored One.
Those lauded titles are the same as Satoru-niichanâs, but Shiki knows that Satoru-niichan would not have gotten himself caught inside Prison Realm like a fool.
If anything, itâs Shiki who was the foolish one, in this case.
What Shiki previously knew of Prison Realm indicated that the cursed object acted as a sealed prison. To think that it would somehow send her to a parallel reality mirroring her ownâ
âWeâre just as confused as you are,â Okkotsu tells her quietly. Except heâs not the Okkotsu that Shiki knows. That Okkotsu trusts her, respects her. This one looks at her politely, but cautiously.
Shiki understands his wariness. Itâs a perfectly normal reaction for a sorcerer to be wary of an unknown element. None of them know her, and sheâs somehow replaced their Gojo Satoru. It would be stranger if they werenât cautious.
Shiki, too, is also cautious in return.
⊠Because this is a world where she does not belong. A world where âGojo Satoruâ had sealed by Kenjaku inside Prison Realm, using civilians to hamper his actions and the body of Geto Suguru to stir his sentimentâ
(Even dead, Geto Suguru is somehow still causing Gojo Satoru trouble. Itâs a little maddening, really.)
âand now theyâre all in a fine mess, with the country slowly descending into chaos as the veil of secrecy over jujutsu has been single-handedly destroyed by Kenjaku.
Thereâs a âCulling Gameâ thatâs currently underway in Japan. Megumi has been seized as Ryomen Sukunaâs vessel. Ken-jichan is dead. Tsukumo-san is dead. Tengen-sama is dead. Gojo Satoru is missing.
âI⊠know that this isnât your world. Weâre not actually the people you know and love, and you donât have a stake in this mess like the rest of us,â Okkotsu steps in front of her. A polite distance, rather than looming intimidatingly. âYouâre probably not impressed with the way that everythingâs gone to hell in a hand-basket, either. But. If youâre willing, we could really use your help.â
Shiki tilts her head, âYou donât trust me.â Itâs an observation, not an accusation. Admittedly, sheâs mildly curious about this familiar strangerâs confidence in front of her.
âWell. Weâre strangers, arenât we?â The edge of the boyâs lips quirk upwards, briefly. âBut Iâd like to be friends.â
