Chapter Text
Chapter 1:PILOT
The incessant buzzing of cicadas gnawed at her sanity alongside the unbearable summer heat. She had chosen to sit under the shadow of a tree alongside the stairs. A shrine to her back and the loneliness around her. The trees seemed to stretch towards infinity, the path in front of her had no end.
Everything felt so annoying. The heat noise, she gritted her teeth. Pulled her thighs together.
“Goddamit.” She cursed at herself. “How could that idiot have died so easily?”
Memories flashed. Short and not many. The one mission they had gone together on. Being excited for Roppongi. Being excited for Tokyo. The big city of dreams where everything was shiny and perfect.
And now…he just wasn’t there. She had not even been able to see his corpse.
Naturally, she was bawling her eyes out when he came upon the place. Something ugly twisted in his heart, seeing her cry. A gnarled expression of grief – she cried as if her soul had been ripped apart.
It felt like he was invading a moment he really wasn't supposed to witness.
And yet. It did not stop for him. The moment did not ask him to leave either.
Sighing, he turned around. A minute later her sobs were interrupted by a cough.
“Here.” Her head snapped to the voice as she turned it.
There he was. The weird senpai from third year with the dead eyes. He was holding out a bright yellow can towards her and another in his own hand. What gave her pause however was the expression on his face. Sympathy.
It caused her to set her jaw. She didn’t want to look weak. Yet she accepted. Taking the yellow can from him. It felt cold in her hands.
He took the acceptance as a sign to sit next to her.
“Here. Wipe your face before you drink.” He extended a small grilled handkerchief. It was baby blue in color with a small smiling frog embroidered in the corner.
She couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.
“Oi, this belongs to my sister. Okay? No need for you to laugh like that.” He said in a haughty manner.
Which only caused her to laugh even harder.
For a moment he kept a stone face but couldn't help but let out a small smile. He quickly however hid it when she had stopped.
His hands reached up and gently cupped the curve of her cheek right below her eyes. And then slowly pressed on downwards till her jaw. Then he proceeded to do the same for the other cheek.
She couldn't help but blush at the contact, and yet it was not an indication of anything illicit. He was just so…gentle.
“Have your drink.” He grunted.
She turned her gaze to the drink in her hand. Shaking fingers found the tab of the can as it fizzed in the summer heat. The drink was brought to her lips and the saccharine brown brew flowed.
“Sweet.” She looked at the can. “Too sweet.”
“Life is bitter. So coffee should at least be sweet.” He smirked at her, and slowly his name came to her mind.
Zenin Hachiman. One of Maki-san’s Clan. She had only seen him briefly when she moved into Jujutsu High.
Tall with messy dark hair. He looked sharp, like a blade in its sheath. Relaxed and yet brimming with dangerous potential.
“This is a first for me, you know.” He said.
“What? Talking to a girl who isn't related to you?” She couldn't help but jibe at him with a smirk. It only widened when he gave her an annoyed sideye.
“How original. No, it's my first time making a girl laugh.”
“Really? So you made one cry before?”
“Yes actually.” He said after a pause. Now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow at him. “Yeah. I kind of have a bad record when it comes to this.”
“Well. If it's any consolation. You aren't the reason I was…” A small frown replaced the smile on her face as she remembered her troubles again.
“I heard the news.” He said. “What was his name?”
“Yuji. Itadori Yuji.”
“Pink hair?”
“Yeah.”
He released a breath as if saying something difficult. “It was probably intentional.”
“What?” She asked. Her voice laced with the horror of slow realisation. She already knew what he meant. She knew but she couldn’t believe.
“The elders. They probably chose an impossible mission for you guys in hopes that….” He left the hard part unsaid.
“I- thats. What? But….” Words stumbled out of her mouth as she stared blankly at the ground. Something terrible set in her gut and she felt more hollow than ever. “Why?”
At last only one pained question could leave her.
“You know the answer. If it killed you two, even better. Icing on the cake.
He looked forward. Into the distance as if remembering something.
“They tried to kill her.” He spoke slowly as if doubting he wanted to say it at all.
“Who?”
“My sister.” His head snapping to her betrayed the intensity he was so dearly trying to suppress. “Said her Cursed Technique was ‘too unconventional’. Too dangerous. Tried to send some scumbag in the dark of the night.”
Nobara could see the tightness in his jaw, the tension in the line of his neck running down into his collar. Not just reluctance. Red hot anger. “Is she…okay?”
The question caused him to deflate a little. Look into the distance again. The pop of the can opening sounded a second time. “I killed him. Right in our living room.”
“He came through the front door?”
“I had cast an illusion. My Cursed Technique. I used to all the time back then. I knew they would try something. He saw me leaving on my usual evening walk and saw where I ‘hid’ the key.” He took a long sip. “Komachi was only eight at the time. I was twelve.”
He looked down as if a great weight bore upon him. “Gojo stepped in. Made…a deal with me. Komachi had her name changed, records wiped and moved to Chiba.”
“Foster home?”
“Relatives. They are greedy. But not bad people. Gojo keeps their pockets full and they treat Komachi like a princess.”
“And what about you?”
“What about me?” He raised an eyebrow.
“What about your end of the deal?”
“Ah.” He said as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. Downing his can of Maxx and getting up, he spoke slowly. “I get to be…Gojo’s foot soldier.”
A quizzing expression must have taken over her face for when he looked at her he chuckled.
“She is right, you know.” He turned to her. “Gojo. As much as I hate that manic woman. She is right. Jujutsu Society is rotten to the core. It’s better if all this burns.”
They talked for a few minutes before he inevitably took his leave. She decided that sulking here was no good either and moved on.
Her ears felt packed with wool as she walked back to her dorms. Alone now again on the lonely paths of Tokyo Jujutsu High.
The Sun seemed to have inflicted enough cruelty onto the world and had decided to climb down from its burning throne. The cicadas had only intensified their horrible chaos and the world felt underwater.
Pushed away from her.
Yuji Itadori. The name rang in her head.
Someone who had so easily made a place in her routine as if he was always there. And always would be.
Then Megumi. Maki. Inumaki. Panda.
She wondered how long the rows of corpses would be. She wondered where she would find a place amongst them to lie down as a Sorcerer.
She took another swig of Maxx.
Eventually the dorms wheeled into sight. The small beige building was made to house not more than five people. Even this small establishment felt empty now.
The small red dustbin at the door passed by her and she half considered tossing the can but refrained. She greeted Megumi – who was reading a magazine in the shared lounge, offhandedly and slid quietly into her room and onto the soft white bed.
Her hand brought the can up to her forehead where she rested its base for cool relief. The garish yellow dominated her vision and another name entirely came unto her.
Hachiman Zenin.
For some reason the words of her grandmother came to her unbidden now and she laughed in its irony.
“Don’t be a fool Nobara. A fool is the worst thing a girl can be. All the shiny and beautiful lights disappear so quickly.”
Why did she choose to become a Sorcerer? There were all these doubts in her heart. Whether Tokyo was really all it was played up to be? How many burdens could she carry before collapsing? She mused for what seemed like hours. Shadows lengthened from the open window.
And yet something stood tall in her mind. Like an unshakeable pillar around which the world swirled.
I want to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer. I want to be strong.
The bustle of 2-5-10 Hitosubashi was a harmony of cars, footsteps, clacking keyboard keys and scribbling pens.
The usually busy lounge of the Shueisha HQ was now filled with hushed whispers and raised eyebrows. Employees going about their day caught a glance of her and dawdled for a second, right before picking up their jaws and trying to act dignified.
On the soft brown sofas was a woman – almost wire thin and pale, wearing a simple white shirt and a pencil skirt. Looking to be in her late thirties with a bob cut and a sharp face. One could make out in her constitution the resemblance of someone who had been beautiful once, but had clearly lost it to circumstances and time.
And most importantly, she seemed to be running out of patience every passing moment.
The way she tapped her foot, glancing side to side as if expecting someone to approach her amongst the employees. Checking her watch – a Grand Seiko from the Elegance Collection, every other minute. Her entire presence screamed ‘Don’t piss me off’.
Eventually it turned too much for her as she retrieved a pack of cigarettes from her pockets alongside a lighter and–
“Um, excuse me. You aren't allowed to smoke in he–” The young woman chiding her from across the inquiry desk almost bit her tongue as she glared at her. It was a sharp gaze that said ‘Are you serious?’. “A- ah, its company policy, ma’am.”
The glare stayed for another five seconds and its victim could not help but feel like she had triggered some sort of secret boss that was going to annihilate her.
“Do you know who I am?”
“A- ah, apologies ma’am. I am new here. I just joined last week.” The words poured out of the girl's mouth in a quick stream.
“Makes sense.” The woman continued despite the warning. A cigarette flipped into her mouth and the click of a lighter. The initial inhale as the burning hot smoke streamed in. “Get me an ashtray, girl. Hurry.”
The first puff of release high into the air. She stared at the ceiling as she recollected the phone call that led to her ending up here.
Flashback
“Ah, Nozomi-chan. About that gig–”
“I have told you a dozen times already Kizashi. I. Am not. Interested. What is your problem?’
“You should not be so close minded, you know?” The boyish voice of her editor drawled out on the other side of the phone that annoyed her to no end as she felt a migraine coming. He had been pestering her for months at this point, leaving no chance to pester her about it.
A sigh left her lips as she grunted something about ‘Damn, young people and their unlimited energy.’
“Fine. But if this guy of yours annoys me even a little bit, you’re dead. And by dead I mean fired. I will ask the big coats to get me a new editor. And I mean it.”
“Registered loud and clear, Nozo-” She hung up to afford herself the luxury of not having to hear more of his honey sweet voice.
She leaned back on her chair and almost winced in pain with how stiff her back fell. In front of her sat a large table filled to the brim with manuscripts. Half drawn. But that didn’t bother her. Deadlines were still far away.
“I guess this is the right time for a break.” She grumbled while getting up. “God, I could use a smoke.”
End
And now, here she was. Enjoying said smoke. Before she knew it she had burned through five cigarettes.
“Morning.” The word interrupted the final puff as she snapped her eyes to him. Tall with a broad frame and the face of a businessman. If she had to draw him in one of her pages, he would be a character largely popular despite his short screentime. “Kirisame Nozomi am I right?”
“Nozomi Kirisame.” She took her outstretched hand to shake.
“I am Geto Suguru. And yes, the ever illusive name. Kirisame Nozomi and Nozomi Kirisame. Always switching on every other series.” He took a seat on the chair next to the sofa, perched on the edge as if in interest. “So, which is it supposed to be?”
“It is Reiko Tsunomori, thank you very much.” She said, her fingers twitching towards the packet. But she resisted the temptation of another cancer stick. “Kirisame Nozomi is a pen name, genius.” She said with not a little snark.
“Of course. It is a pen name. But even pen names have a sequence. Yours however is most elusive. Fans have gone crazy over it, a lot of people believe your earliest work has the correct sequence, Nozomi Kirisame. Others say it doesn’t matter. Overall it has all too much strife amongst your fans.”
“Tell me about it.” She chuckled. “Honestly. All I have to say to that is, those people have all too much time on their hands. They need to divert all that effort to somewhere better.”
“Hm? Telling your own fans to be less obsessed with you? Not a good move.” He rested his chin on his hand.
“Hardly so. You see, if they end up making something of themselves, they’ll have more disposable income to spend on buying my manga. It is all in the lieu of profits.” She smirked.
“Oh I have to say. I myself did not see it this way before you illuminating it for me.”
“The pleasure is all mine.’ She said with a mock haughty tone. “Now. What is this gig of yours? And how were you able to brainwash my assistant – who never even squeaked the wrong way when I glared at him, into pestering me for months until I had to say yes out of sheer annoyance?”
“Ah, you see…” He leaned back, taking support of the chair. “It is like this. Kizashi-san has been an avid and well respected member of our community for quite some time now, he joined just a few months after he became your editor after all.”
“Right. And what is this ‘community’ of yours if I may ask?”
“Oh?” He leaned back as if a puzzle piece had fallen into place. “I was assuming Kizashi-san had informed you. Here.”
His hand darted into the dark kasaya robe he was wearing. Out came a small bone white visiting card. He turned it towards Reiko in one smooth motion before setting it on the table and sliding it over to her with both hands.
“Rather formal aren’t you?” She grunted before she picked up the card. Reading over the golden lettering her eyebrows shot up. “Vaisakh Fellowship for reclamation and spirtuality.” She said to him in a matter of fact manner. Clearly a Buddhist organisation. He thought to herself as her eyes roamed over the lotus over his name.
“May I attain Buddhahood for the benefit of all sentient beings. That is the Bodhichitta. The thought that all beings– not just monks and sages, shall achieve enlightenment. Truly a beautiful thought, is it not?”
“Yeah, sure it is.” She said in a tone completely disinterested. “Sorry, but if you’re hoping to recruit I ain-”
“Oh no. We don't recruit, Miss. It is a completely voluntary process. And rest assured our…exchange shall not involve coercion of any kind.”
This caused her to raise an eyebrow. A religious organisation that didn’t shove their noses up everyone’s asses? Simply unheard of.
"Yes. And I remember Kizashi-kun being awfully tight-lipped about what this ‘exchange’ of yours is. So you better play it straight, or I am walking out of here.”
The threat in her tone was real and prompted Geto to put on his most charismatic smile.
“Of course. We are…holding a seminar you see. In a few months. And one of the sections entails about how great artists and musicians think differently from normal people. So we just needed some opinions from you.”
“And how is that related to your organisation, may I ask?”
“Ah, you see. People engaging in creative activities aren’t quite like us normal people. They’re different. Special, even. And one of the main goals of Mahayana Buddhism is to save everyone. By wielding their internal energies to-”
“Okay. Whatever. Not interested. What will you have me do?” She interrupted what sounded like an all too holier than thou lecture coming up. She had no stomach for it today.
“Ah, simple! You will be given two sets of pictures. And you will just have to choose one of them.”
This gave her pause and she almost blinked incredulously. “That’s it?”
“Oh yes. You are free to join us after all but that will be – for now, the part I will have you do.”
“Fine. Lead the way.” She sighed, resigning and going with the flow.
She found herself dragging her feet alongside the man. Reiko almost caught a headache on the way from the heat. Regardless, they found themselves in 3-Chome soon. One of the residential areas of Chiyoda City.
A low one-floor squatted bungalow greeted her as he fiddled with some keys to open the door. A small front yard with a small grey walkway followed by a sign atop.
Property of ‘Vaishakh Foundation’.
The lock clicked open and they stepped in, a Western Style interior greeted her and she took off her shoes at the rack.
“Please, follow me. I’ll get you some refreshment and get you started.”
Reiko followed the man’s back into the living room.
There Kizashi stood. Glued to the opposite wall. Shaking like a rotten leaf in the wind. “S-s-sorry. Sorry. Reiko-san.” Tears poured down his cheek as Reiko's eyes widened. “Really. I am so sorry.”
She heard the living room door click behind her as the man turned around. His hand shot out and wrapped around her neck before effortlessly hoisting her high up in the air as if she weighed nothing.
“Ba-bastard.” Reiko tried her best to kick him in the crotch.
Her legs weren’t long enough. “You- What?” Had there always been stitches on his forehead?
“Ah, a natural reaction of course. You are free to call me any obscenity you want to Miss.” His grin widened into something ugly and manic as a thousand centipedes crawled in Reiko’s stomach – their tens of thousands of tiny chittering legs trying to crawl up to her mouth. “Just don’t call me a liar.”
The last thing she saw before darkness took over was a man with neon blue hair and…patchwork skin?
She woke up as if drowning. A sudden flare of fear and anger and survival instinct as she thrashed around. Screaming and trying to set herself free.
The metal chair scraped against the floor. The ropes bulged and bit into her skin. She still wasn’t free.
Black doom settled in her chest as she hyperventilated. A minute of it and then she tried to take her reins.
Looking around she saw that she was in a grey room. In front of her was what looked like a projector screen. Bending her neck so hard that she almost strained it, she caught the glint of a CCTV camera in the corner.
Panic took over her but she tried her best to remain level headed.
The screen in front of her lit up.
Two photos in what seemed to be a powerpoint presentation.
“ChOosE.”
“What?”
Her incredulity was half-fueled by the choices in front of her.
One image of the camera looking up from the trunk of a tree. The other of what looked like a canopy with sunlight peeking through the gap between the leaves.
“ChOosEE.”
“Choose fucking what you rat bastard?”
The same distorted vibrating voice called out in the empty room.
“CHoOSE.”
“AHHHHHH.”
Hot pain flooded her muscles as Reiko shocked and a scream ripped itself out of her throat.
Her body shook though not because of the pain. She had been shocked.
When it finally stopped after God knew long– and it had been long enough that her lungs felt burnt, she passed out again.
She regained consciousness again in a haze of sweat. Still tied to the chair. Still unable to move. Still that damned projector screen in front of her. Asking her to–
“ChOosE.”
“Nonononono let me go you fucking monster what the hell–”
“ChOosEE.”
“Kizashi you fucking traitor. Why? Why the fuck would you do this to me.” she shook.
“CHoOSE.”
The voice spoke again for the third time. Not answering would lead to another shock.
“The left one. Goddamit. Fuck you and your fucking foundation. Geto Suguru you bastard.” She strained her neck from side to side trying to find…something. Some other face to curse, somewhere other than the screen to look at. “The left one.”
And for the first time in her life. Something took hold of Reiko’s heart. A sort of depth of helplessness she had never truly felt before.
Despair.
She turned her eyes back to the screen. Where else would she look? The endless grey void of the room where she would lose herself?
No. She felt as if she would lose herself in that meaningless grey.
“ChOosE.”
She had to choose. She had to–
“ChOosEE.”
The voice. Where was that voice coming from? She couldn’t put a direction to it. From behind? Up? Down?
“CHoOSE.”
As Reiko’s eyes landed on the screen, she came unto a terrifying realisation.
The voice was coming from inside her head.
Shock tore through her nervous system again, a horrible sort of pain that lit up every pain receptor in body. She passed out again.
“ChOosE.”
The voice woke her up again. This time the image contained a different set of images.
The silhouette of a man who is facing the camera. The other, a simple stickman drawing.
“ChOosEE.”
“The…” She gulped. What are these choices? The clear lack of rhyme or reason in these choices gave her. Why are they making me choose? What even is the difference?
“CHoOSE.”
“The right one.” She said, referring to the silhouette of the man. She did not know why she chose that option. But she had to choose regardless. “The right one you fucking scum.”
The set of images on the projector screen changed again. Reiko was in for a horrible time.
The morning dew had not yet fully settled when Nobara arrived at the training ground. It looked over the lake which served as the origin of the stream that ran over Tokyo Jujutsu High.
Maki-san– who she waved to, stood there stretching alongside Panda. Inumaki stood just at the edge of the tree line that formed one of the two crescent edges of the ground.
“If this weren’t summer, I’d seriously be kicking your ass right now.” She smirked at Megumi who looked at him like he had sucked a lemon.
“We’ll be doing endurance runs at noon.” Maki – who seemed to have overheard, said while huffing from the stretches. “Sorcerers need to go on long battles. Overexerting yourself to death is a very real threat to rookies.”
“A-ah yeah totally. You know Maki-san. I have always been the kind of person to shine under press–”
“You can count me out of it.”
Her sycophantic remark was cut short by another voice. Hachiman emerged from the tree-line’s still lingering darkness. He had a hideously ugly green tracksuit on. The kind that you could see coming from miles away.
“Yo, Inumaki.” The boys exchanged high fives.
“Okaka, Shake.”
“Hachiman.” Maki was still only for a moment before she rushed. A single graceful dash that kicked off from her position besides Panda, picking up the Naginata resting in between them and then-
CLANG!!
A sound like metal hitting metal. All before Nobara could blink. But as she looked upon the two, she found only one weapon amongst them.
Hachiman had caught the blade with his hand. Perhaps ‘caught’ was the wrong word. The blade stood trembling in the hollow formed by his fingers around it. As if constantly being pushed back.
‘What the hell? Isn’t that Gojo-sensei’s technique?’ She thought to herself. ‘But he isn’t a Gojo. He’s a Zenin.’ The whole ordeal made her brow crease.
“Tch tch tch. Is that any way to greet your onii-chan, Maki-chan?” He said with a disgusting smirk. “I’m mortally wounded.”
She twirled the Naginata with a battle cry.
It’s staff coiling around her body, sinuous like a snake before the biting blade came up on him from below. This time Hachiman backstepped just out of reach.
His hand shot forward. Two fingers pointed toward Maki. Nobara almost heard him utter a word in the distance. His lips moved to make a sound that was unfamiliar to her.
The girl was flung away and a horrible sound rang through the scene. Her feet dug into the ground and teeth grit into each other as she tried her best to not fall to the ground.
“Bastard.” She cried out.
“Do they have a blood feud or something?” She leaned over and whispered to Megumi while the two of her seniors engaged in what seemed to be a fierce battle.
“They have been dueling since they were kids.” Megumi said as if it was a completely normal occurence. “Maki-san used to kick his ass but a couple of years back, he started winning more and more. They should be about even now.”
As their little talk ended, so did the duel. Maki swung low with her Naginata at his left leg. But Hachiman’s right roundhouse kick was faster, sending his cousin flying into the lake.
“Well. That was a nice warmup.” He grunted while trying his best to maintain his deadpan exterior. Despite the fact that he was elated from winning the duel internally. It took every atom of his strength to not gloat when Maki stumbled out of the water soaked with her Naginata in hand.
“Goddamit. Next time frog eyes. I’ll make you go into the water again.”
“You can keep dreaming alright.” He smirked. He said stretching his neck to one side and the other. “So? You want to start training or are you aching for another defeat?”
It took a lot of effort from Maki to not pop a vein right then and there. “Shaddup! Nobara and Megumi. You guys are with this idiot. Make sure to put a nail through his head when he acts creepy.”
“Oi, if not when. What kind of man do you think I am?” He scoffed as he walked over to the first year duo. “Right. You guys will be training with good old m-”
“Wait wait wait–” Nobara said. “Why are we stuck with you?” She said as if talking about a bug.
“First of all. I am offended that you are offended. Second of all. I am your senior. Third of all. I am the only one who can teach you miserable lot.”
“And why is that?”
He rolled his eyes. “Maki. Does not have a Cursed Technique. Panda too. And you will not be able to understand a word Inumaki says.” Nobara had to almost raise an eyebrow at that. “Thus through the process of merit and elimination, I am your most suitable teacher. Now. Megumi. You know what your warmup will be. The treeline still has a lot of lingering shadows. Do not come out until mid-day.”
The boy simply nodded and strolled off but not before giving side-eye to Nobara. Whose face simply screamed ‘What the hell? Don’t leave me alone’.
“So, what was the deal with that?” She asked him.
“The deal with what?”
“You did not even tell him what to do.”
“Yeah. Megumi and I have been training together for years now. Zenin Clan and all. He knows what to do.”
“Figures. Damn you pompous clan types. Not you Maki-san.” She screamed to the girl in the distance who raised her hand in response.
“Speaking of which…” Hachiman said, trying to steer back to the topic. “You have barely trained your technique and are now jumping head first into Jujutsu.”
“Hey! That’s not true. I trained with granny everyday–”
“Every day?”
“Um like yeah. Every two to three days.”
“Really?”
“Okay, maybe every weekend.”
Hachiman had only to raise a disappointed eyebrow to have Nobara grit her teeth.
“Fine. Every other weekend. Screw you.”
“Good. First piece of advice. Be realistic. Curses are the second biggest killer in Jujutsu Society. The first is arrogance. Know yourself and know the enemy.”
“Tsun Zu. I know, genius. You are not the only one who has the internet.”
“Oh. I am just surprised a cavegirl from the boonies knows about the technology of the 21st century.” He said with the kind of insufferable smirk that made Nobara want to rip his head off. “Regardless. Now. The first thing we will be doing is about your technique.” He said, wanting Nobara to adopt a more serious attitude.
“A Sorcerer’s strength is practically determined at birth. I would say about three-fourths of a Sorcerer’s prowess comes from his Technique.” He continued. “So. What is your Cursed Technique?”
“Isn’t it polite to tell yours first?” She said with a small smirk.
“It’s a trade secret. Not even Megumi knows.”
This caused her to frown. “What has got you all tight lipped about it?”
“I just do not like others prying into my business.”
“Fine. Whatever. It’s called Straw Doll. I use a hammer and nails. And of course a Straw Doll. By using the doll as an effigy I can pierce the enemy. Need a piece of the target to go with it though.”
The explanation made Hachiman’s eyebrow shoot up before furrowing. For a moment he was lost in deep thought. “Do you have one of these Straw Dolls on you?”
“Yeah, always keep one on me.” She reached out the small pack tied to her waist, pulling out a small human shaped doll and handing it to Hachiman.
“I am guessing the damage you deliver to the enemy is directly proportional to how much of his…biomatieral you have available at hand?”
“Yeah? How did you know that?”
“Well. Just a hunch.” Hachiman reached up to his scalp and picked out one hair from his head. He placed it on the doll. “Here. Poke the doll gently for me.”
“You gone insane or what?” She took the doll from his hands. Hachiman noticed how she did not hesitate to pull out nails from the pack. “This will hurt.”
“I know that alright.” He said, putting his hands in his pocket. Nobara absently noted how smoothly his Cursed Energy started flowing, reinforcing his body to save it from any oncoming onslaught.
“It is your funeral after all.” She shrugged as she took the nail in hand. Her Cursed Energy flared as Hachiman looked down at the doll.
The nail pierced the doll and Hachiman felt pain explode inside his body, right where his heart would be. His hand shot up to clutch his chest. “Woah. Just with a hair?” He coughed. “That’s some technique alright.”
“Well. Cause it’s freshly plucked, I guess.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s like a battery I guess. If say, I had one of your fingers. If I hit it an hour later it would do maybe half the damage. But a hair? Even half an hour later, it would be useless.” He furrowed a brow again at that.
“Have you ever tried infusing the item with your Cursed Energy after a long time has passed?”
“I- no. Not really. There weren’t many Curses in the countryside, you know.”
“Well. Even then, for someone who practiced only every other weekend. You know your technique surprisingly well. I have some ideas but we will try them out later. First, we focus on the basics.”
“Thanks for the compliment, jackass.” She rolled her eyes so jars, it was a miracle they did not fall out.
“The Cursed Womb mission. I read the files. You had to be rescued by Megumi. Lost to a bunch of Grade-Two Curses. Why?”
The blunt questioning made Nobara sink a little into herself. “My hammer broke, I guess.”
“And you are confident you would have dealt with them if it had not?” Hachiman did not let up. “Then, since Jujutsu High has already issued you a Grade-One Cursed Tool, you should be fine right? I should stop wasting your precious time.”
The message was clear.
Be willing to admit your own weakness or be left alone to remain weak.
“FINE. It’s cause I’m fucking pathetic okay? Back in the sticks, there weren’t any Curses stronger than Grade-Three. I got complacent. I thought I could deal with any Curse well enough.”
He remained steady throughout his outburst. “Good. You got that right. You are pathetic. You thought being a Sorcerer is an escape. Guess what? It is not. Not when the lives of your comrades are on the line. When some arrogant pig-headed Special-Grade could see you, your entire life. Your entire existence. And decide to crush it like a bug.”
There was that sharpness to his eyes again. The complete anti-thesis to the soft warmth he had offered, sitting beside her.
“But I wonder, what kind of hell you fled from that you are not willing to go back to even if it means death.” He looked into her eyes and really looked. For a moment a deep understanding enveloped Nobara.
He was escaping from his own hell too.
“Resonance. That is what you will call your technique from now on.”
She had only a moment to be confused before a pillar of steel dug into her gut.
The day’s breakfast was promptly emptied on the floor as she doubled down.
“I get it. You are the kind of Sorcerer who can only improve on the verge of death.” She looked up from her little throw up party just in time to see a right roundhouse coming at her. She stumbled back and felt the air displaced from the kick. “I guess, I will just have to take you there every living moment.”