(a/n) sorry gang i was studying for midterms — i'll be updating more regularly soon! i had a dream where i had a pair of cats and they bred like minecraft cats,, i fed them 1 fish n they produced offspring also i had crazy writers block— i kept writing and deleting n writing n deleting n i was never satisfied w what i wrote :')

also this chapter is the training arc chapter i dont want to bore u guys for too long lol

"You're too slow."

A foot was on her back, pressing the side of her face into the turf. She was exhausted, and her hands laid near her head, palm-down and clenched. Glancing up at the white haired boy who was leaning down to grin at her, a wave of annoyance rolled over Himari. It was their fifth time sparring in the month that she had been at Tokyo Jujutsu High, and he had beaten her every time.

His hands were in his pockets the entire fight, like he was taking a casual evening stroll. It pissed her off.

"Do you concede?"

It was a question that both of them knew the answer to, and she grit her teeth. Snapping to a future image of herself standing, she reluctantly reached a hand out to shake his, and he took her hand with a grin laced with arrogance. In the moment their hands clasped, she made a desperate attempt to heave him over her shoulder and into the floor. Instead of a slam, she felt him relax into the momentum from her swing, and land into a graceful position.

"You must think I'm easy," He teased, and Himari let out a huff of frustration. She was covered in turf-burn.

"Satoru, play nice," A soft voice called from the side line. Himari glanced to where Shoko and Geto were sitting, having just finished their spar. Geto was leaning back on the stone stairs with his elbows and back resting on the steps behind him. Shoko leaned against his arm.

The two had finished their fight quickly. Geto had a much more offensive cursed technique, so each time the two sparred, they would limit the training to hand-to-hand combat.

Himari waved to the two, smiling until she felt an elbow pressing down on her head.

"Maybe next time you'll land a single hit on me," Gojo taunted, and Himari reached up to move his arm off her head.

"You'll be dead before the next time," Himari threatened with a scowl, attempting to shift his weight off her before giving up and snapping to a future image that wasn't under his arm. She snickered as the sudden shift in her position caused him to subtly stumble.

"Try it," He stuck his tongue out at her, flicking the top of her forehead with his finger before stalking towards Geto and Shoko.

Himari bristled.

Utahime, their upperclassman, had been away for a few weeks to visit Kyoto High. It was an opportunity for her to scope out her potential career as a teacher, and an opportunity to get away from Gojo's relentless teasing. Unfortunately, Himari noticed that with Utahime out of the picture, she had become the primary subject of his 'joking'.

"Man, I'm craving some sweets!" Gojo exclaimed as he raised his hands to the back of his head, almost skipping towards Geto and Shoko.

As Himari drew closer to the group, Shoko gave her a sympathetic stare and motioned for her to sit. Geto and Gojo had begun to stroll away and up the stairs, hand over shoulder, like two newly weds, and Himari rolled her eyes. "You wanna bet what they do in their free time?" She joked, and a chuckle rolled out of Shoko's mouth.

Taking a seat on the steps just below Shoko, Himari closed her eyes to brace for the chill of cursed energy running through her body and repairing her cuts and bruises. She clasped her knees to her chest, shivering.

"He only teases you because he sees your potential," Shoko murmured. The cooling sensation ran through her body and Himari let out a satisfied hum. "He calls you weak, because he wants to see you become strong."

Shoko had been the exact opposite of the clown on their team. She was gentle and kind— Himari had once walked in on Shoko cradling a wounded rabbit— she was calm, and grounded in her confidence. Everything Himari wanted to be.

"It's frustrating," She lamented, "Because he'll call me weak, and look at me like he believes it."

"Before you, it was Utahime. And before her, it was Geto," Shoko remarked. "He respects all of you deeply, but he really doesn't hesitate to be a little bitch."

"Not you though?"

Shoko smiled, shaking her head.

"Well, I can do something he can't," She responded so casually, as if she hadn't just pointed out her superiority to the blue eyed genius.

"I can heal."

Shoko's presence was soothing, and she felt the older girl gingerly weave her fingers through Himari's hair. "We should go join the boys," Shoko stated, and Himari pouted. It was comfortable; the sunlight beaming down on her and the light breeze tickling her skin. She reluctantly stood up to brush the dust off her uniform. The cuts she previously had were gone.

Turning around to offer a hand to Shoko, the girl smiled softly at her. "Suzuki, do you want to learn reverse cursed energy?"

Reverse cursed energy. There were two applications of it: reversing a cursed technique to create an opposing effect, and applying it throughout an individual's body to heal their injuries.

Negative energy multiplied by negative energy, creates positive energy.

It was relatively easy to understand it on a theoretical basis— applying it was the difficulty. The process itself is complicated, and requires innate talent as well as large reserves of cursed energy. From the small percentage of humanity who were capable of being jujutsu sorcerers, there was an even smaller percentage that could reverse their cursed energy.

When Shoko had asked Himari if she wanted to learn, she had hesitated.

In Himari's time, there was a common metaphor comparing reversed cursed energy to perfect pitch; if an individual born without it practiced for endless hours, it would still result in nothing more than a shallow copy of the authentic skill.

Himari was scared of being a shallow copy.

It terrified her.

"Reverse cursed energy," Shoko began, and Himari leaned in towards her. Perhaps if she could get closer, she could absorb her knowledge.

The room was a modern classroom setting, with three desks in the center, where she was positioned at the middle desk surrounded by Gojo on her left, and Geto on her right. Shoko was standing at the front, waving chalk around and writing on the board. Himari had been doing her best to follow the lesson, she had brought a notebook, jot down notes, and wrote out exercises to practice. It was incredibly difficult to focus, however, and she felt her eyes glance to the side. A scowl graced her lips as another note was passed from the boy on her left.

"Hey," Gojo whispered at a volume that begged for attention. Himari didn't respond.

"Hey weakling," He tried again, this time prodding at her side with a pencil.

Himari grabbed the pencil in her fist and snapped it, glowering at him. "What?" She hissed in response, and he smirked, holding up a folded piece of paper in his hand.

"Pass this to Suguru."

This pissed her off in a number of ways. He could very easily give it to Geto himself— in fact, Himari felt like there were actually more ways to get it to Geto than to have it passed through her.

Snatching the paper from his hands, he shot her a thumbs up and a flashy smile. Unfurling the paper, Himari inhaled deeply with exasperation, and she felt her eyelid twitch. On the paper, there was a drawing of the male genitalia with a pointy arrow labelled "you".

Crumbling the paper into a ball, she hurled the ball at Gojo who let out a snicker as it bounced against his infinity and rolled onto the floor.

"Enough," Shoko exclaimed. It was the loudest Himari had ever heard her, and somehow, it still paled in comparison to Gojo's grating antics.

"I've tried teaching you guys this five times," Shoko complained, pointing the chalk towards Gojo who had begun to pretend like he was taking notes by rapidly scribbling on a loose sheet of paper Himari leant him. She then pointed her chalk at Geto who sheepishly shrugged and grinned; a pile of folded notes from Gojo sat on his desk. "Shoo."

Himari watched in amusement as Shoko's command caused Gojo to sulk, slumping away. Geto followed, smiling at the two before closing the door behind him.

"Suzuki."

She snapped her head towards Shoko's direction, and the girl motioned for her to sit on floor. Shoko crossed her legs and took a seat in front of Himari, reaching for her palms and taking them into her own.

"Close your eyes."

And Himari did as she was told.

On her right palm, Himari felt a nail begin to trace a counter-clockwise circle, and on her left palm, an opposing circle was traced.

"Where do you feel your cursed energy?"

Himari tensed her muscles for a moment. She had always been able to channel her cursed energy, but it was never a conscious thought— it was a lot more like a reflex. Furrowing her brows, Himari shifted her focus on specific fragments of her torso, browsing for her center.

It was surprisingly difficult. She could intentionally manipulate her cursed energy, but it was also stemming from her general area— she never thought about pinpointing the exact location of her cursed energy reserves.

"I think my chest area? Directly under the heart."

"Good," Shoko murmured, still tracing the light circles on her palms. "That's where your cursed energy is stored, and where your cursed energy is drawn from every time you use any cursed energy."

Himari nodded, and visualized a jar of water in her head.

"The energy stored within your stores is negative energy. Please draw out some of your cursed energy to your palm and take note of how it feels."

Allowing the cursed energy from within her to seep into her palm, "I don't feel anything," Himari whispered softly, disappointment lacing her words.

"Try harder. How does it feel leaving your body? How does it feel leaving your stores? How does your palm feel before and after your cursed energy traces it?"

Himari frowned, and let the remnants of the cursed energy dissipate before trying again. This time, she slowed the output, almost as if the cursed energy was viscous honey, sliding through her nerves and leaving a tingly residue.

"It's— kind of sticky?"

She heard a chuckle, and she opened her eyes to Shoko beaming.

"You're good at this," She complimented. "Now, this is a little bit hard to follow, so I'll try to simplify it as much as possible."

Himari nodded, wishing she had her notebook to write notes down.

"The circles I'm drawing on your palms— you notice how they're both in different directions?" She didn't wait for a response, "That's how you're going to apply your cursed energy."

"I thought it was negative energy multiplied with negative energy producing positive energy? Shouldn't they be in the same direction?" Himari questioned, face scrunched in confusion.

"That's what gets people," Shoko laughed. "The issue is, within your body, your cursed energy is the natural state of existence. It's a negative output, but internally, your body registers it as a positive while it's inside you. When you channel your external cursed energy and apply a negative input on what your body interprets as positive output, you result in another negative output."

Himari felt befuddled.

"So what are your options? You can either apply an external positive input on your body's positive output— which is something you can't do. Or—" She began.

"You never let your negative output leave your body. You apply it while the body still registers it as a positive, when it's actually negative!" Himari exclaimed. She opened her eyes to a bright smile, and Himari felt energy explode within her body.

"A negative input multiplied with an internal positive output gets you reversed cursed energy."

There was no progress after that.

Shoko had tried to explain the sensation further, and how to overlay cursed energy atop cursed energy, but Himari had been unable to maintain her cursed energy within herself. Each attempt, she would expel the curse energy outwards, which only resulted in frustration.

The sun had slunk past the horizon, night had draped the atmosphere, and Himari was wide awake.

She laid with her back against the bed, holding her stuffed red panda above her head. It stared into her eyes, and she stared back, before pulling the plushie to her chest and squeezing. She felt the tension leaving her body as she compressed the toy, and after a few moments, she relaxed.

Himari had been having reoccurring nightmares since arriving at jujutsu high. Most of her nightmares seized the traumas regarding the loss of her parents, but lately she had noticed another theme: failure.

When Himari would awaken from her nightmares, sweaty and disoriented, it had become second nature to jot down what she dreamed about. There were numerous accounts of her parents begging her to let them live, a world made of ash and empty, save for her, and transfigured humans that held an uncanny resemblance to her lost friends and family.

Shifting to the side of the bed and shaking the blanket off her, Himari reached for the pen on the table, and scribbled a new entry.

The latest dream didn't revolve around some disaster— it didn't revolve around her parents, or her friends, or her reality— it was just her. It was her giving her best effort, training every night, following every pre-defined step— and still not being enough.

That terrified her the most.

That she could calculate and plan and train and work, and everything could still fall through. Her chest squeezed around her lungs and her eyes grew weary as her muscles tensed.

Himari needed to take a walk.

Slipping on a light pink cardigan on top of her white tank top, she didn't bother to change out of her pajamas pants before stepping out of her dorm. The hallway was silent, and Himari wrapped her arms around herself, feeling claustrophobic. Air. She desperately wanted air.

Stepping silently towards the exit of the dormitories, Himari slipped on sneakers and heaved the door outwards, welcoming the swish of air that passed by her ankles. She wasn't sure where she would go, but she just wanted to walk.

Glancing up, Himari found disappointment bubbling within her as she noticed the sky was painted a heavy blue, freckled with dim, waning lights. Since coming to Tokyo, she had begun to crave star-filled skies— they reminded her of Otaru, and when less weighed down her shoulders.

Taking deep breaths and raising her hands above her head, she let the cool air slip into her body, and the previous tension that had clutched her limbs and bones slipped out with each exhale. She just needed air; that would wring the anxiety from her body and she would return to the dorms after a brisk walk. That was what she needed.

A bang rang out from the distance: somewhere within the woods.

Himari froze.

Scenarios began racing through her head: had something in the past changed? She didn't know if things would unravel quite like her reality had, and she had considered the possibility that her actions might have already caused divergence. A disaster curse? Geto's early betrayal?

Funneling cursed energy into her legs, she shot forwards in the direction of the bang. There was definitely a chance it had awoken other faculty and students, and she wanted to be the first to get there to obtain information. As Himari drew closer, she suppressed her cursed energy to mask her presence and made quiet footfalls towards the location.

"Ah."

In the distance, behind a wall of trees, Himari spotted a man hunched over, and a trail of leaves scattered around him.

Then he turned, and she held her breath. The tension and fear slowly began to dissipate, and she exhaled.

"Come out, Suzuki."

He was beckoning to her in a soft tone, and she felt herself almost involuntarily stepping past the foliage to greet him.

"Gojo, what are you doing out this late?"

"Well," He began, shrugging sheepishly. "Couldn't sleep. What about you?"

"Couldn't sleep either. Shoko's reverse curse energy lesson might have fried my brain."

Gojo let out a deep chuckle. An authentic laugh

"She does that— the first time she tried to teach me and Geto, we didn't understand a word she said. It was just 'wah, wah, wah'."

Himari covered her mouth with her hand, trying to suppress a giggle. Gojo had moved toward a large rock with a flat surface, pondered for a moment, and then sat down. Himari followed suit.

"Y'know, you're so uptight," Gojo commented. He glanced down at her, and she shrugged.

"I didn't come here to have fun, and I don't have time to slack off, like some people." She remarked, wondering if that came off too harsh. If he was offended, it didn't show.

"I don't slack off!" He defended himself, pressing a hand to his chest and staring down at her with wide eyes, pretending she wounded his heart. "Just before you came, in fact, I perfected my reversed technique!"

That was obviously a lie. The bang from earlier sounded hollow— like firing a blank— but Himari humoured him.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"That makes sense! I did hear all the woman near me swoon. That gave it away that the Gojo prodigy had perfected his reversed technique! What will he do next?"

The sarcasm bled through every word, but he just laughed.

It was strangely civil. The past month they had spent training together had consisted of mockery or teasing, but this conversation held none of that energy. Perhaps it was the late hours, or the mellow tone in his voice, or the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled— he's not too bad, she thought to herself.

"So, when are you gonna land a hit on me?"

Annoyance sparked inside her, and she raised her fist to punch him gently. She was shocked when she made contact: his infinity was off.

It was a strange intimacy, and she wondered if Geto and Shoko had these moments with him too. The moment where they realized that he felt comfortable enough in their presence to drop his barrier.

"Do you ever wish you weren't a sorcerer?"

The question hit her like a truck, and she raised her head to glance up at him. He was staring blankly into the distance, a stoic expression gracing his face. It was a stark contrast from his constant antics, and it made her avert her eyes and fidget with her fingers.

Himari realized another fundamental truth— Gojo Satoru had a way of drawing people closer to him.

She chewed the inside of her lip, taking a moment to ponder. It was a question she knew inside out, a question that she asked herself almost every day.

"Sometimes," She murmured, staring wistfully at him. She traced the outline of his angular face with her gaze. "Sometimes I like to think about another life I'm living, one where I don't know about cursed energy or cursed spirits. Instead, I'm helping my mom run her restaurant, and my dad comes home every day from work, and I'm happy."

It was freeing to vocalize this, and she was surprised how easily it slipped out of her. This was the first time she ever talked about her family, and she felt her a stinging feeling in her eyes.

"How about you?"

He didn't respond.

And they sat in comfortable silence.

"Nice try, weakling."

It was their sixth time sparring. It had been a few weeks since Himari and Gojo shared a conversation at night, and the moments of vulnerability he showed her were flushed away by his arrogance.

The weeks had been relatively mundane, consisting of low level curses, training with Shoko, and weapon practice. Yaga had introduced her to several different weapons, ranging from kunais to katanas.

She had always been more capable with long range weapons, and a she had ultimately decided to proceed with a katana imbued with cursed energy. She had chosen the weapon due to its long reach, as well as its emphasis of skill over brute force. Also— she thought it was cool.

For their spar, Himari was equipped with a wooden stick mimicing the weight of a katana.

Standing in front of the man, Himari gripped the handle of her weapon tightly. She had managed to decrease her cursed energy expenditure, though it was a miniscule difference, and she activated her future image.

She exhaled deeply.

Then she launched at him.

Each time Himari swung at Gojo, he hopped backwards, hands buried in his pockets. The stick was heavy, and it slowed down her movements.

What that meant, is that she needed to rely on her cursed technique.

After a few minutes of swinging the weapon and him dodging backwards, she stopped to catch her breath, planting her feet on the ground. Dropping to the floor in a crouched position, she held the stick in her left arm behind her, and her right hand pressing against the ground to balance her out. Flooding her feet with cursed energy and shooting forwards, Himari skimmed the floor as she swept the weapon towards his ankles.

"Are you even trying?"

Anger flushed her cheeks, and she knew he was trying to rile her up. The more emotion, the more clumsy her movements.

She watched as Gojo did a movement akin to backflip over her head, dodging her slash with a flare of extravagance.

"Stop showing off," Himari grumbled as she spun around to face him. Holding the edge of the stick in her right hand, she swallowed.

One hit. That was all she wanted.

Gojo had arrogantly announced that he would turn off his infinity for the spar, and even without it, he would come out unscathed.

The weapon slowed her far too much, and she hadn't been trained enough to properly wield the weapon— especially against Gojo.

Gojo raised a hand to yawn, and Himari narrowed her eyes, before taking the stick from her hands and tossing it into the air near Gojo. The weapon rotated in the air, following the momentum of her toss and he glance at it, unimpressed.

"Time weave!"

And Himari was behind and above him, catching the weapon by its base. She positioned the blunt edge of the object aimed at his face, and he instinctively launched himself backwards and away from her.

Himari was behind him again.

The stick clattered against the floor, and Gojo narrowed his eyes in surprise. There was a moment where Himari felt adrenaline funneling her fist forwards and directly at his body, and she felt electricity crackle through her body.

And then fist met flesh.

Gojo had brought his hands out of his pockets, and blocked the punch with his arms.

And then she was by the stick on the floor, gripping it with her hands, and launching it upwards and behind him. Gojo raised his eyebrows, and turned in anticipation of her time weave.

Then her fist collided with his back.

"Fuck yeah!"

She had landed a hit on Gojo Satoru.

(a/n) "How did you guys not hear Gojo? Himari heard it!"

"Ah," Shoko responded with a smile. "I have these earplugs that I wear specifically on nights where Satoru is practicing. He never lets us know exactly when, but he always has a mischievous smile at dinner."

Geto placed his hand on his chin and nodded, agreeing with her. "Satoru lets us know when he plans on training with that creepy lil' smile of his."

"What the fuck, guys!"