The air in Shibuya was thick with the scent of ozone and burnt blood. Mahito, reduced to a pathetic, crawling thing, clawed at the concrete. Behind him, Yuji Itadori walked with the steady, rhythmic gait of an executioner. You stood a few paces behind Yuji. You could no longer defend Mahito, who had killed Nanami Kento and Nobara Kugisaki.

When the figure in the monk’s robes stepped out of the shadows, the temperature seemed to drop. Mahito looked up, eyes wide with a manic, parasitic hope. 'Should I save you, Mahito?' Kenjaku asked, his voice smooth as silk, ignoring the Curse entirely as his gaze locked onto yours. The 'imaginary' snow of Yuji’s domain didn't vanish. Instead, for you, it turned into the biting cold of the Heian period. You saw the face of Suguru Geto, but the spirit behind those eyes was ancient, possessive, and terrifyingly familiar.

Kenjaku took a step forward, stepping over Mahito’s trembling form as if he were a discarded candy wrapper. He tilted Geto's head, a thin, mocking smile pulling at the stitches on his forehead. 'I must admit.' Kenjaku murmured, his voice carrying an intimacy that made Yuji’s skin crawl. 'I’ve spent a thousand years perfecting the art of the 'contingency.' I planned for Sukuna. I planned for the Six Eyes. But I never planned for the soul to be so...stubborn.' He ignored Yuji’s defensive stance and looked directly at you. 'To think, the last time I saw you, you were cooling on a floor of cedar and blood, under the starry sky you like so much. I didn't get to finish my work then. I wanted to see what kind of Curse you would become—something eternal, something I could keep in a cage of my own making.' His expression shifted from cold calculation to a twisted sort of grief. 'Someone robbed me of that. They used Cursed Energy. They ended you cleanly. It was such a...waste of potential.'

Yuji stepped in front of you, his fists clenched, sensing the predatory shift in the atmosphere. 'Stay away from her.' He spat. Kenjaku chuckled, a dry, rattling sound. 'Itadori Yuji... you have no idea how much you resemble the 'cogs' I used to build. But she? She isn't a cog. She is the missing piece of a very old collection.' He raised a hand, and the air around him began to swirl with the dark, pressurized energy of Cursed Spirit Manipulation. Mahito realized too late that he wasn't being saved—he was being harvested. 'I’ve spent this modern era watching you from the periphery.' Kenjaku continued, his eyes darkening. 'Watching you play sorcerer with these children. It’s been a charming little reincarnation, hasn't it? But the play is over. I won't lose you to a 'clean death' this time.' He paused, savoring the stunned expression on Yuji's face and yours. 'I’ve waited ten centuries to rectify my failure. I don't just want your death anymore. I want your essence. I want to see how you taste as a marble in my palm. I want you by my side for eternity. We're soulmates.'

The atmosphere shifted. You weren't just a student anymore; you were a ghost being reclaimed by its haunting. As Kenjaku began to absorb the screaming Mahito into a small, black orb, his eyes never left yours. 'Come now.' He whispered. 'Don't look so sad. You’ve had your fun in this era. Now, come back to your husband.' He extended his free hand towards you, even though he knew you weren't going to take it. You were going to fight him, but your fate was already sealed. You were going to be where you belonged.