Reborn in Jujutsu Kaisen as a Zenin

"A Grade 1 curse?" Indra questioned.

 "The Gojo boy handles Grade 2 curses with ease. It's time to demonstrate that the Zenin clan's strength extends beyond inherited techniques." Naobito's voice carried no concern, merely calculation.

Three years had passed since the binding vow, and the political landscape had shifted. Satoru Gojo's missions had become increasingly public displays of overwhelming power, each success adding to the Six Eyes user's growing legend.

Now, at eight years old, Indra stood before the clan council as they discussed his first mission.

His crimson aura remained perfectly controlled, invisible to normal sight yet carrying a presence that made even veteran sorcerers uncomfortable - a dimensional distance that only infinity truly surpasses.

"The curse manifested in Nagoya," one elder explained, spreading out a detailed report. "It's already killed two Grade 2 sorcerers who attempted to exorcise it.

The curse appears to be a manifestation of industrial accidents – it can alter the structural integrity of anything it touches, causing immediate collapse."

At Indra's silence the elder continued. "The curse primarily manifests in abandoned factories. It's drawn to structural weakness, using it to create traps for victims. The previous sorcerers were crushed when entire buildings collapsed around them."

"Structural manipulation," Naobito mused. "Similar in principle to your technique's destructive aspects, Indra. Though far cruder in application."

Indra studied the photographs spread before him – twisted metal, shattered concrete, and the distinctive residual patterns of cursed energy that marked the curse's path of destruction.

"You'll depart tomorrow morning," Naobito stated. "Solo mission. The curse must be exorcised cleanly, without collateral damage. The Gojo clan isn't the only one that can produce exceptional results."

"And Kisara's training?" Indra asked, his tone neutral.

"Will continue under supervision," another elder interjected quickly, perhaps too quickly. "We can oversee-"

"No," Indra cut in. "She'll maintain her current schedule without interference. Any deviation from her established routine will be... noticed."

The threat, though subtle, was clear. Three years had taught the clan elders that attempting to manipulate anything Indra deemed his possession would have consequences.

"Of course," the elder conceded, though his cursed energy flickered with suppressed frustration. "Her training will proceed as established."

"The mission itself should take no more than a day, counting departing and returning." Naobito added, his sharp eyes studying his son. "Though given the curse's nature, precision will be crucial. We don't need another collapsed factory drawing attention."

Indra rose smoothly, gathering the mission details. "Is there anything else?"

"Just one thing," Naobito's voice took on an edge that made the other elders tense slightly. "Satoru Gojo completed his last mission in under ten minutes. The Zenin clan expects... comparable efficiency."

The underlying message was clear – this wasn't just about exorcising a curse. It was about making a statement in the ongoing, unspoken competition between the clans' young prodigies.

"Understood," Indra replied simply, turning to leave. As he reached the door, his father added one final comment.

"And Indra? Make it interesting. The jujutsu world is watching."

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Dawn had barely broken when Indra prepared to depart. The compound's main gate stood open, morning mist creating an ethereal backdrop to the small gathering.

No formal send-off – the Zenin clan didn't believe in such sentimentality – just the necessary personnel and Kisara, who stood slightly apart from the others.

"The curse's last known location has been marked," a clan operative explained, handing over a detailed map. "Transportation is-"

"Unnecessary," Indra cut in. Three years of training hadn't just refined his technique; his physical capabilities now matched his cursed energy control. The distance to Nagoya was trivial.

Kisara stepped forward, maintaining proper formality before the watching clan members. "Good hunting, Indra-sama."

He acknowledged her with a slight nod. No need for lengthy instructions or warnings – she knew her role during his absence.

Without further ceremony, Indra departed, his form blurring with speed as he headed toward Nagoya.

Behind him, the rising sun cast long shadows across the compound, and somewhere in the distance, a Grade 1 curse waited unknowingly for its death.

Indra's speed wasn't like Naoya's Projection Sorcery or Gojo's space manipulation – it was pure physical might, honed through years of training.

The industrial district came into view within hours, a maze of abandoned factories and warehouses.

Cursed energy lingered in the air, not just from the Grade 1 curse, but from decades of accidents, deaths, and accumulated negative emotions.

Indra landed silently atop a relatively stable building, surveying the area.

The curse's presence was obvious - having detected its location instantly. It was a roiling mass of destructive energy moving through the structures below, testing, searching for weaknesses to exploit.

His hand rose, crimson aura manifesting like living smoke, more an extension of his will than mere cursed energy.

The aura shot forward with precise intent, moving like a sentient force toward its target. The Grade 1 curse, sensing the approach, began to turn, its form already starting to affect the structural integrity of nearby metal supports.

Too late.

The crimson aura passed through the curse's body and dissipated, leaving no visible mark. For a moment, the curse seemed confused by the apparent lack of effect.

Then its head began to twist, expanding grotesquely before exploding in a shower of blood. The destruction cascaded through its form, each segment bursting apart until nothing remained.

In the distance, multiple cursed energy signatures flickered with shock – representatives from the Zenin, Gojo, and Kamo clans, along with several Higher Ups, all positioned to observe this first mission.

So this was what his father meant about the jujutsu world watching.

Without acknowledging the hidden audience Indra turned and departed.

After all, he had training to return to.

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"Seven seconds," one of the represenatives of the Higher Ups muttered, breaking the stunned silence that followed Indra's departure.

"No battle, no elaborate technique. Just... instant death."

The gathered observers remained on their perches atop distant buildings, their cursed energy patterns betraying varying degrees of shock and calculation.

Representatives from each major clan had come to evaluate the Zenin's second son, expecting a display of raw power similar to Satoru Gojo's increasingly theatrical missions.

Instead, they'd witnessed something entirely different. Clinical. Precise. Almost elegant in its simplicity.

"The Limitless technique overwhelms reality itself," a Kamo clan member observed. "But this... this was more like reality simply accepting his will."

"Seven seconds," the representative of another Higher Up repeated - a useless action, yet one incapable of not doing out of continued shock.

His aged fingers gripped his cane tightly. "Satoru Gojo plays with his targets, showing off the Six Eyes' superiority. This child just... ended it. No flourish, no demonstration. Just death."

The implications hung heavy. A being that doesn't play with its prey, who sees the world not as a game, but as serious as it should be taken. Who doesn't let arrogance lead it on, creating a weakness for themselves.

A monster who controlling will be impossible.

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Back at the Zenin compound, Kisara was completing her afternoon training when she felt Indra's return.

His cursed energy signature was exactly as it had been when he left – no fluctuation, no sign of exertion, as if he'd merely stepped out for a brief walk rather than confronting a Grade 1 curse.

She wasn't surprised when, minutes later, Naobito summoned them both to his private study. The news would have reached him already.

"Seven seconds," Naobito stated as they knelt before him, his tone carrying something close to satisfaction. "The Higher Ups are... unsettled. As they should be."

Indra remained silen.

"They expected a show," Naobito continued, pouring sake with deliberate precision. "Like the Gojo boy gives them. Instead, you gave them efficiency. Death without theatre." He paused, studying his son.

"Tell me, was it intentional? This contrast to Satoru's style?"

"The curse needed to be eliminated," Indra replied simply. "Theatrics serve no purpose."

"No," Naobito's lips curved slightly. "They don't. And that's precisely what has them worried. For, I repeat, the Six Eyes user treats every mission like a performance meant to demonstrate his absolute superiority. You..." he set down his sake cup, "you just eliminate threats."

His gaze shifted briefly to Kisara before returning to his son. "The Gojo clan will respond to this, of course.

Their pride won't allow such an efficient display to go unchallenged. Expect their boy to seek you out soon."

"Let him," Indra stated, his tone casual. "His opinion is irrelevant."

"Perhaps." Naobito's expression grew calculating. "But his actions affect clan politics. The Higher Ups are already discussing your next mission. They want to see if this efficiency was... consistent."

Kisara remained perfectly still, observing the subtle currents of authority flowing between father and son. Three years had taught her to read these moments carefully.

"A Special Grade curse has been sighted near Kyoto," Naobito revealed. "The Higher Ups are considering assigning it to you."

Kisara's breath caught slightly. Special Grade – they were testing boundaries already.

"Interesting," Indra responded, though his tone suggested anything but. "And their reasoning?"

"They claim it's to evaluate your capabilities properly. In truth, they want to see you struggle. To prove you're not as..." Naobito paused, choosing his words carefully, "absolute as today's display suggested."

"When?"

"Two weeks." Naobito's stated, though his eyes narrowed slightly after.

"Let me be clear," he added, his cursed energy sharpening. "The clan expects the same efficiency with the Special Grade. No theatrics. No playing to their expectations. Show them exactly what efficiency means."

"What do you take me for?" Indra's tone carried a hint of derision. "I have far more important matters than entertaining the whims of petty old men who think their positions grant them wisdom."

Naobito's eyes gleamed with something close to approval. "Good. Remember that attitude when they try to draw you into their games. The Higher Ups prefer their prodigies... manageable."

"If that's all," Indra rose smoothly, "I have training to complete."

"Go." Naobito waved them away, but his expression suggested satisfaction. His son hadn't just completed a mission – he'd demonstrated a mindset that set him apart from even the Six Eyes user.

As they left the study, Kisara could feel the subtle shifts in the compound's atmosphere. The clan members they passed carried themselves differently now.

Their fear was now more than ever.

No matter how much Indra attempted to keep it at a healthy amount, his very nature made that impossible.

In the end, the strong will always be, creatures of isolation.

Always, alone.

(Indra Physical Appearance)

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(Author note: Yeah, Indra isn't one who likes wasting time.

Because its stupid. Why show off to people whose opinions are virtually irrelevant. Just be done with it and go do something more productive with your life, like I don't know, eating something delicious.

So yeah, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, 

See you all later,

Bye!)