Jujutsu Kaisen: Tickless

Location: Zenin Clan Sacred Grounds – The Hollow Garden

The air in the Zenin courtyard wasn't cold. It was cruel. Like history carved into bone.

The cracked shrine gates groaned in the wind. Charms dangled half-burned, soaked in dried blood from old failed contracts. The elders watched from the stone bleachers above — pale-robed, emotionless, their eyes like still knives.

Gojo had walked in a day ago and forced the clan to allow Megumi's training here. Said nothing but stared until one of the elders had a nosebleed.

Now Gojo was gone. Megumi was on his own.

The ground pulsed with rejected CE. The scent of failed summonings still clung to the rocks.

This was where clan heirs came to die.

"You are not Toji.""You bear no crest.""You are a mistake Gojo made."

The whispers from the onlookers cut deep. But Megumi kept walking until he reached the seal: a blood-forged summoning circle carved into obsidian stone.

The Mourning Hound.

Unregistered. Unnamed. Unbound.

A failed Shikigami, born from the resentment of slaughtered Zenin twins, disowned bastards, and unsanctioned births. A monster formed from everything the clan tried to bury.

Megumi kneeled and activated the seal.

He didn't call the beast.

He challenged it.

The air collapsed inward — pressure dropping like a cursed veil snapping shut. The sky grayed. Shadows bent wrong.

Then… it howled.

A six-eyed beast emerged from the garden's edge — body made of shadow and scorched bone, ribs still dripping with cursed blood, jaws stretched into a snarl that sounded like mourning bells.

It didn't wait.

It charged.

Megumi dodged, barely. A fang tore through his shoulder — clean bite. He spun, kicking off a broken gravestone, trying to draw his shadow back — but the hound ripped through his feet.

He collapsed.

"Bleed, heirless.""This isn't yours."

The Zenin elders did nothing. One even sipped tea.

Megumi's hand pressed against the stone, blood smearing the summoning circle.

"No," he growled. "You're mine now."

He slammed his cursed energy downward — not to summon, but to anchor his own life into the circle.

The Mourning Hound froze mid-charge, one paw inches from Megumi's face.

Then its back arched — howling in rage and confusion — as the binding reversed. Instead of forcing it into submission, Megumi offered himself in return.

"No master. No leash. Just a pact — fight with me or kill me here."

The Mourning Hound lunged again — jaws aimed for his throat.

Megumi didn't move.

Blood splattered. But not his.

The Hound stopped — its fangs brushing his neck — and stood still.

It had chosen.

Megumi, chest heaving, stared up at it through blood-soaked hair. "That's what I thought."

From above, one elder stood. "This is heresy."

Another — younger, colder — said nothing but took notes. Quietly interested. Dangerous.

Elsewhere: Tokyo Training Grounds

Yuji's fist shattered a cursed construct. Again.

Nobara staggered from overexertion, forcing her CE to spike through bloodied fingertips.

Panda sat, arms folded, watching them burn themselves out.

"Why are we training like this?" Nobara snapped. "Akira's gone."

"No," Yuji said again. "He's not. But if we don't level up now, we're next."

Kyoto Campus Medical Bay

Renji Inomaki lay wrapped in bandages, throat sealed with ancient cursed stitches. His tongue was swollen from forced overuse of his cursed speech. He couldn't speak. But his eyes followed every movement.

Miwa sat beside him — sword across her lap.

"We weren't ready," she whispered. "But next time… we will be."

Underground — Jujutsu Directorate

"Akira Rensetsu must be executed."

"His echoes interfere with karmic balance."

"He carries a Domain we cannot predict."

"But Gojo—"

"Gojo will be ignored."

The vote passed.

Execution date: To be determined.

Target: Akira Rensetsu.