It feels like I am falling through the abyss.
Am I finally dead?
Heh.
Good riddance.
What a shitty and disappointing life.
Darkness wraps around him like a heavy blanket, pressing in on all sides. There's no pain anymore. No voices. No cursed energy screaming in his ears. No Sukuna.
Just… silence.
Megumi doesn't know how long he's been drifting in this void. Seconds? Hours? Years? He doesn't care. For once, there's no one to save—or no one left to save. No expectations to fulfill.
He was the one who killed Tsumiki, even though the reason he became a sorcerer was to save her.
He also killed the person who showed him the most kindness and looked after them when their parents didn't.
Is this… heaven?
He snorts at the thought. No chance. Not after everything I've done. Everything I let happen.
Then… hell?
A wave of bitter amusement washes over him. Honestly, I don't care anymore. As long as I don't have to live anymore.
But just as the thought forms, the void gives way.
SPLASH.
He gasps, choking on saltwater as sunlight sears his eyes. His body convulses, lungs burning, coughing up seawater as he rolls onto something soft and gritty.
Sand?
He blinks against the harsh brightness. The sky is a vibrant blue—the kind of blue Tokyo never had. Seagulls cry overhead. Palms sway in the wind. He's lying on the shore of some beach, half-soaked, clothes tattered and heavy.
"What… the hell?"
His voice sounds hoarse, disoriented. He pushes himself up on shaking arms, trying to make sense of what just happened. The last thing he remembers is Sukuna—that monster—fighting someone after killing Gojo-sensei.
"This isn't the afterlife I imagined," he mutters bitterly, dragging himself to his feet.
He surveys his surroundings. A dense forest lies just past the beach, and in the distance, he spots smoke—maybe a village? A ship? He can't tell.
He closes his eyes, trying to feel the familiar flow of cursed energy within him. Nothing. No hum beneath his skin. It's gone. Completely. His eyes snap open, heart skipping.
"No cursed energy?" he mutters, the words strange on his tongue. He tries to summon even a flicker—anything—but all he feels is emptiness.
But he doesn't feel weak.
He kneels in the sand, pressing one hand into the earth to steady himself. Then he brings both hands together to form the outline of a dog—his old shadowgraphic hand sign. His eyes narrow in focus.
The air doesn't shift like it used to. There's no ripple of cursed energy, no dark pressure vibrating beneath his skin. Just the rustling of leaves and the faint sound of waves. Still, he forces his hands together in the shape of the dog and whispers:
"Divine Dogs."
For a moment, nothing happens.
Then the shadows at his feet deepen unnaturally. A black smear of darkness ripples across the sand, stretching outward—and with a sudden, silent pulse, two shikigami burst forth. One dark as night, the other pale as bone, both landing lightly in the sand before him.
Megumi's breath hitches.
They're alive. Both.
The black dog pads forward, sniffing at him before letting out a soft bark. The white one flanks his side protectively, eyes scanning the jungle. Megumi reaches out with a trembling hand and rests it against the black one's neck, grounding himself.
A light dizziness bloomed behind his eyes, but it faded quickly. His heart was beating faster, his muscles slightly tense, but nothing unbearable. The summoning hadn't drained him like it used to with cursed energy loss—it was more like finishing a light workout.
"Not bad," he muttered, resting a hand on the black dog's shoulder. "Still takes something out of me… but it's doable."
He stood slowly, brushing sand from his palms. The Divine Dogs flanked him without hesitation, their presence familiar but… lighter, somehow. Less weathered. He could feel the connection to them—fresh, raw. Like the bond had just been formed.
His brows furrowed.
Something about that didn't sit right.
He knelt again and placed one hand over his shadow. The sun was high now, casting a dark, clean outline beneath him. He took a breath and focused—not on summoning, but on reaching.
There had always been more in the dark. Tools, stashed cursed blades, remnants of battle. Stored and hidden just beneath the surface of his shadow. He pressed his fingers down, willing it to open.
It did—but there was nothing.
He tried again, digging in both hands, deeper this time. He took a deep breath, focusing more on the technique—but the void remained empty.
He stood back up, staring at the empty shadow beneath him. "They're gone."
The technique had likely been reset. The only reason the Divine Dogs had answered was because they were the first—and now, the only—shikigami he had access to.
He glanced toward the two hounds standing beside him. They were alive, loyal, solid. But the bond was fresh, not forged through years of battle. Even they felt… new.
Megumi raised both hands and took a breath. He quickly formed the shadowgraphic sign used to summon the toad.
"Toad."
The shadow at his feet rippled violently.
For a moment, nothing happened—then the earth bulged with pressure. The air thickened. A shadow erupted upward, coalescing into a large form—a squat, broad-bodied toad with rough, green skin, its eyes gleaming with hostility.
It didn't wait.
The toad let out a guttural roar and lunged straight at him.
"Shit—!" Megumi barely rolled aside, dirt exploding where he had just stood. The toad's tongue snapped out like a whip, cracking the air.
It's not tamed.
The realization hit him even before the sand settled. The toad was already lunging again, tongue lashing toward him with violent speed.
Megumi dropped low and kicked off the sand, just avoiding the sticky, whip-fast tongue as it carved a deep gouge into the shoreline. The Divine Dogs were already moving—black darting in from the left, white flanking from the right.
The toad bellowed, its croak warping into something monstrous, and swung a thick forelimb sideways, catching the black dog mid-leap. The shikigami yelped and crashed into the surf, skidding across the shallows. Sand and seawater erupted around them.
"Kuro!" Megumi shouted, but there was no time to check.
The toad turned toward him, mouth opening unnaturally wide. It jumped—and the weight of it cracked the beach beneath its bulk.
Megumi thrust both hands into the sand and rolled to the side, sweat beading across his brow.
"Shiro, now!"
The white dog charged, jaws gleaming, and latched onto the toad's hind leg. It snarled, teeth sinking into the green flesh—but the toad slammed its foot down, grinding the dog into the shore.
Megumi grimaced.
He surged forward, palm open, and slammed it into the toad's side.
The toad snarled and whipped around, knocking him back. Megumi hit the sand hard, coughing up grit. His arms trembled from the exertion. This wasn't cursed energy—this was all stamina. And the drain was real.
But he wasn't done. He needed to kill it to tame it.
The black dog burst from the waves, snarling, and launched itself at the toad's face. It bit down hard on the toad's left eye, wrenching its head back.
That was the opening.
Megumi sprinted forward, his shadow expanding beneath the toad, making it sink halfway into the darkness.
"Crush it!" he roared.
The Divine Dogs obeyed instantly. White leapt in again, fangs sinking into the toad's throat. Black tore at its face, and Megumi himself lunged, driving his elbow down into the base of its skull with all his weight and rage behind it.
The toad shrieked—a deep, warbled croak—and thrashed violently, then stilled.
It collapsed into the sand, blood and shadow pouring from its wounds as Megumi retracted his shadow.
And then… it dissolved.
Well, that was easier than the first time he did it.
The white dog, now relaxed, gave a low, curious bark, sniffing at the ocean breeze. Megumi followed its gaze toward the line of trees inland—where smoke coiled faintly into the sky.
He should find out where he was.
Megumi exhaled slowly, rubbing the grit from his palms. The Divine Dogs stood at his sides—silent, alert, their forms still flickering faintly with raw, fresh energy. The last echoes of the battle faded with the sea breeze, leaving only the hiss of waves and the distant calls of gulls.
His eyes stayed fixed on the thin stream of smoke curling into the sky beyond the trees.
A village.
It was his only lead.
He clicked his tongue, signaling the dogs to follow, and began walking toward the tree line. His steps were heavy at first, muscles aching from the summoning and the fight, but they found rhythm quickly. The forest welcomed him with the scent of salt and greenery, a soft underlayer of crushed leaves and sun-warmed dirt underfoot.
The Divine Dogs padded alongside him, moving silently through the underbrush.
It didn't take long.
The trees parted suddenly, revealing a small path—a worn dirt road leading toward the edge of a quiet village. Straw-roofed houses lined the hillside, each one painted in bright, sun-faded colors. Children's laughter floated faintly on the wind, along with the creak of wooden signs and the rhythmic whoosh of a windmill turning.
Megumi slowed as he approached the entrance, eyes scanning for threats out of habit.
But nothing came.
The people looked… ordinary. Farmers, fishers, shopkeepers. No trace of cursed energy. No residuals. Nothing familiar.
He stood at the edge of the road, uncertain for a beat.
Then an old man approached—short, bald, with a gray mustache and a wide-brimmed straw hat slung low over his brow. He carried a small crate of vegetables and blinked in surprise at the sight of Megumi.
"Well now," the man said, squinting at him. "You lost, son?"
Megumi said nothing for a moment, measuring him. Then: "…What is this place?"
"Eh?" The man tilted his head. "This is Foosha Village. Quiet little town on the coast. Don't get many visitors. You come by ship?"
Megumi frowned. "No. I… woke up on the beach."
The man looked him over again—torn uniform, dirt-smeared, two giant dogs flanking him.
"Well, you've had quite the morning, haven't you?" he said with a chuckle. "Come on, then. I'll take you to the mayor. He'll want to hear about this."
Megumi hesitated, then gave a slight nod. The dogs didn't growl, so he followed.
Foosha Village. No cursed energy. No jujutsu sorcerers. No mention of Tokyo, or Jujutsu High, or Sukuna.
He walked silently as the village came alive around him, a deep unease curling in his chest.
Where the hell am I?
And how do I get back?
The old man led him through the winding dirt paths of Foosha Village, casually waving at passersby who greeted him with cheerful smiles. Megumi kept his gaze forward—tense, hyper-aware of every sound, every movement. The Divine Dogs padded behind him, drawing curious glances from the villagers, but no one panicked.
Everyone can see them, Megumi realized. Everyone he had seen here so far—including himself—had no cursed energy. Just like Maki and that guy from Shibuya. His shikigami were likely not made from cursed energy anymore.
The old man finally stopped in front of a modest building at the village center, a wooden sign hanging overhead that simply read: Mayor's Office. He knocked twice and opened the door without waiting.
"Mayor Woop Slap! Got someone strange here you'll want to meet."
Megumi stepped in behind him, eyes narrowing as they adjusted to the dimmer interior.
An older man sat behind a cluttered desk, glasses perched low on his nose, a half-finished newspaper spread before him. He looked up, brow furrowing immediately at the sight of Megumi—and his two hounds.
"...What in the world?" Woop Slap muttered, setting the paper aside.
"This boy washed up on the beach," the villager explained. "Looks like he got caught in a storm or something. Says he doesn't know where he is."
Woop Slap stood slowly and stepped around the desk, eyes sharp now, more calculating than his hunched posture suggested. "Name?"
"Fushiguro. Megumi."
The mayor studied him a moment longer before nodding. "You're in the East Blue, in a town called Foosha Village. A peaceful place. You're lucky we found you."
East Blue. That didn't mean anything to Megumi. He felt the knot in his chest tighten.
"I need more than that," Megumi said flatly. "What country is this? What continent? Is this Japan?"
Woop Slap blinked. "Japan? Never heard of it."
Megumi's blood went cold.
Was he even on the same planet?
He forced himself to stay calm. "Then… what is this world? What's the government? The structure?"
That gave the old mayor pause. He adjusted his glasses, squinting at the teenager standing in front of him with tired eyes and a soldier's stance.
"Did you hit your head, kid?"
Megumi stayed silent.
The mayor sighed. "This world's ruled by the World Government. There are pirates, Marines, and bounty hunters. And if you've never heard of the Pirate King or the Grand Line, then you're either lying… or you're from a very far-off place."
"The Grand Line?"
"It's where the strongest pirates sail—where the greatest treasures and the most dangerous seas are. And it's also where a lot of fools go to die."
The mayor eyed him carefully. "You planning to go there?"
"I'm not a fool," Megumi muttered. "What is the most technologically advanced country in the world?"
The mayor thought for a moment. "There's no single country like that, but countries in the Grand Line are typically more advanced than those in the major seas... Ha, there's this one guy called Vegapunk. They say he's a genius scientist and possesses technology that's hundreds of years ahead of everyone else."
That caught Megumi's attention. "Where can I find him?"
"..."
"What?"
"I really can't shut up, can I?" the mayor sighed. "He works for the Marines. Or at least, that's what the papers say. You'll most likely find him in the Grand Line."
"So everything is in this Grand Line, huh?" Megumi replied.
"..."
"So… how can I go there?"
"No-no-no, you said you're not a fool, right? That's where fools go to die."
"I'm not a fool, so I won't die. Just tell me how to get there."
"..."
"You know, I'll try even if you don't tell me. And maybe I'll die before I even reach the Grand Line."
Woop Slap let out a long, weary groan and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're as stubborn as that damned Luffy."
Megumi didn't respond to the name, only stared at the mayor with the same calm, cold determination that had carried him through battles and funerals alike.
"All right, fine," Woop Slap muttered. "You want to get to the Grand Line? Then listen up, because there are only a few real ways."
He stood from his chair and pointed to the map tacked to the wall behind him—an old, faded thing, but marked with care.
"There's a extremely tall mountain called The Reverse Mountain. One of the only entrances into the Grand Line from the Four Blues. Ships sail up the mountain, riding the current, and get dumped into the Grand Line on the other side. Dangerous as hell. Most don't make it."
"Sounds familiar," Megumi said under his breath, arms folded.
"Alternatively," Woop Slap continued, "if you had a ship capable of flying, or navigating the Calm Belt without getting eaten by sea kings, you could risk that route too. But you don't. So that leaves Reverse Mountain as your best bet."
Megumi nodded slowly. "Where is it?"
"Far from here. You'd need to sail across the East Blue, pass through Loguetown, and reach the Red Line."
Megumi's eyes narrowed slightly. "Loguetown?"
"A port city. Last stop before Reverse Mountain. The place where the Pirate King died. You can find a ship that'll take you to Loguetown from the capital of this island, which is on the other side. But from Loguetown, you'll need your own ship, supplies, navigation tools… and luck."
Megumi processed the information, mind already building a plan. Supplies. A ship. Navigation tools. He had nothing.
But he could get them.
"You said there's a city on the other side of the island?"
Woop Slap stared at him a moment, then gave a begrudging sigh. "You're serious about this."
"Yes."
Woop Slap rubbed his temples again, muttering something under his breath about a magnet for trouble. Then he looked back up at Megumi, his gaze hard but not unkind.
"The city's called Dawnport. It's bigger than Foosha. More ships, more trade, more people. If you're lucky, you might find a vessel headed toward Loguetown willing to take you. Or at least someone who needs an extra hand."
Megumi nodded. "How far?"
"Two, maybe three days on foot if you stick to the path through the forest. But with how wild the terrain is, and the odd bandit, it might take longer. There's no ferry running right now."
"I'll manage." Megumi's tone was final.
Woop Slap shook his head slowly, then turned to a worn shelf behind his desk and pulled a cloth-wrapped bundle from it. He passed it over.
"Dried rations, a canteen, a compass. It's not much, but it'll help. There's also a knife in there. Just in case."
Megumi took the bundle and slung it over his shoulder. "Thanks."
The mayor hesitated. "You really don't know what world this is, do you?"
Megumi paused, his eyes meeting the older man's. "No. I came here… by accident. I lost everything. Now I need to figure out how to live again."
There was no sympathy in Woop Slap's expression—but there was understanding. "Then get moving. And if you run into Luffy on the way—tell him I still haven't forgiven him for stealing that damn boat."
Megumi gave a small, tired nod and turned to go.
Outside, the Divine Dogs were already waiting patiently at the edge of the street. As he stepped out, the people of Foosha gave him cautious glances but said nothing. The sun was already starting to dip lower, casting long shadows across the dirt road leading out of the village.
Megumi set his jaw and headed for the forest path, shadows stretching behind him.
He had a long road to Dawnport—and then to the Grand Line.
But he'd already walked harder paths.