Conan didn't like the feeling on his shoulders.
According to Geto Suguru, he had assigned a cursed spirit bodyguard to him—an octopus-shaped one, at that.
As soon as he sat down in his assigned room, he heard Gojo Satoru's voice drifting down the corridor.
"Little ghost, why is your room so far away?"
A child's voice responded flatly, though the tone was far from childish. "You don't have to stay here. There are plenty of other rooms."
"Oh, but I'm a little shy in new places! I need someone to keep me company, or I might get scared at night."
Gojo leisurely followed Kamo Ryuichi down the dim corridor. The low lighting stretched his shadow long, completely overtaking the smaller figure's.
When they reached the end of the hallway, Kamo Ryuichi pushed open a door.
Creak—
Inside was a simple bedroom, with a large bed in the middle and a crimson-patterned soft couch beside it. A separate bathroom was tucked into one corner. Moonlight spilled through the glass window, casting a trapezoidal glow on the floor.
The boy flicked the light switch, filling the room with a cool, sterile brightness.
Before Kamo Ryuichi could even step forward, Gojo had already flopped onto the bed, stretching out his long limbs. His white hair nearly blended into the pristine mattress.
He pointed lazily at the couch. "Alright, kid, big bro will take the bed. You can have the couch."
Kamo Ryuichi just stared at him, his expression unreadable. After a long pause, he finally said, "This is my room."
The implication was obvious, but Gojo didn't so much as budge. Instead, he shifted into a more comfortable position, breathing evenly as if he were already asleep.
Kamo Ryuichi hesitated for a moment before clicking off the lights and settling onto the couch without another word.
Nothing happened that night.
The next morning, Gojo stretched lazily on the bed, completely guilt-free about taking over someone else's room.
He rolled onto his side and caught sight of Kamo Ryuichi still curled up on the couch, dark hair peeking out from under the blanket.
Sliding on his sunglasses, he strolled out of the room—only to run into Geto Suguru emerging from his own.
"Suguru!" Gojo grinned. "Good morning! How'd you sleep? Was the bed comfy?"
Geto gave him a suspicious look, then glanced behind him toward the bedroom. "Why did you insist on staying in Ryuichi's room last night?"
Gojo immediately draped an arm around his shoulders. "Jealous, Suguru? Don't worry, next time I'll stay with you instead!"
Geto rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant—"
"Huuuhhh—"
Before Geto could finish, Conan dragged himself out of his room, dark circles under his eyes.
"Suguru, take back your cursed spirit. It was pressing on me all night, and I barely got any sleep."
"Ah, sorry! I'll call it back now."
Geto waved a hand, and the octopus-shaped spirit slithered away. He had left it with Conan for protection, but in hindsight, nothing had happened overnight.
The three of them made their way downstairs, where Kamo Nobu, the ever-efficient butler, led them to the dining room.
Not long after, Ichigo Kurosaki and Kamo Chiya joined them at the table.
A moment later, the maid Kamo Amana arrived with a dining cart, setting elegant plates before each of them. The lids remained closed, but the scent of food drifted through the air.
Gojo, leaning on one arm, tilted his head at the butler. "Steak? This early? What about the strawberry daifuku or Kikufuku you promised me?"
Kamo Nobu's hands twitched slightly at his sides before he forced a wrinkled smile. "Eat first. I'll have Amana buy you daifuku later."
Then, he removed each lid.
Gojo glanced at the perfectly cooked steak on his plate and let out a theatrical sigh.
"Suguru, I haven't had a single dessert since I got here. And it's kind of boring. Should we just head out?"
For the first time, Kamo Nobu's polished expression cracked.
"The master hasn't met you yet. You cannot leave."
Geto's brows furrowed instantly. His muscles tensed, cursed energy subtly pooling in his hands.
Gojo shrugged, propping his feet on the table. "So after we meet him, we can go?"
Before Kamo Nobu could respond, a voice spoke from the doorway.
"Typically, to meet my father, one must first become part of this family."
Everyone turned.
Kamo Ryuichi stood at the entrance, his childlike tone betraying something much older.
Gojo's lips curled into a smirk. "And how exactly does someone become part of your family?"
The answer came immediately.
A thick, blood-red vein erupted from the floor, slithering toward Gojo with a sickening stench of iron.
The moment it made contact—
It stopped.
The blood vessel pressed against an invisible barrier, unable to get any closer.
Kamo Ryuichi's eyes narrowed. After a long pause, he muttered, "Unlimited Technique? You're from the Gojo Clan?"
Gojo sighed dramatically. "See, the downside of family techniques is that everyone knows what they do."
Kamo Ryuichi's fingers twitched. "Then you already knew who I was?"
Gojo's smirk widened. "I gave you a chance last night, but you didn't take it. You could've done something while I was asleep, y'know."
Kamo Ryuichi's expression darkened—and then, his form began to shift.
His small frame stretched taller. His face lost its childish roundness, replaced by sharp angles and a cruel smirk.
The steak on the table warped, transforming into slabs of raw, bloody meat. Maggots crawled from within, wriggling across the plates.
Conan barely held back a gag.
Kamo Chiya shot to his feet. "You—! You're the traitor Kamo Yu! The one who stole the special-grade cursed object!"
The man—no longer a boy—grinned wickedly. "Even if you know my name, what can you do about it? Today, all of you die."
From every wall, from the floor, from the ceiling—
A flood of blood-red veins surged forward like living, writhing serpents.
Ichigo drew his sword, slicing through dozens at once—but more sprouted instantly, regenerating without pause.
Geto summoned Rainbow Dragon, shielding himself and Conan. Kamo Chiya dodged desperately, lacking enough cursed energy to fully defend himself.
Ichigo gritted his teeth. "Why do these things keep growing back?! It's like they predict my moves!"
Gojo stood, completely unfazed by the chaos around him.
"Alright, class is in session," he said, in a tone far too casual for the situation.
"We're inside a biological domain. Here, its attacks will always land. Your only options are to overpower it—or run."
Geto glanced at him sharply.
Gojo's sunglasses were gone.
His pale blue eyes shone, reflecting the writhing red around them.
A confident smile pulled at his lips.
Seventeen years old.
And yet—
Could he really unleash a domain expansion against this kind of territory?
To be Continued...