Shiki POV

PANG

The sharp sound of steel clashing echoed in the air. The dojo was simple but spacious, with wooden floors worn from years of use. Sunlight filtered in through the high windows, casting long shadows as Maki and I faced off once again.

She lunged at me with her naginata, her movements fast and precise. I sidestepped, effortlessly deflecting her blade with the edge of my own. She didn't get tired of asking me to spar, despite knowing the outcome. Every time, she would lose, and yet, every time, she'd challenge me again.

But today, there was someone else here, watching.

Fushiguro Megumi.

The only first-year who had joined Jujutsu Tech recently.

It had been several weeks since he entered the school. During that time, Gojo had been teaching him to fine-tune his cursed technique, and likely throwing in his usual brand of eccentric training. Megumi had potential, that much was clear. But potential wasn't enough in this world. You had to push beyond your limits, and that's something Gojo would no doubt drill into him.

For now, though, he stood by the sidelines, watching us as Maki launched another attack.

Maki grunted as our weapons clashed again, the impact reverberating through the dojo. She stepped back, rolling her shoulders before giving me a sharp glare. "You don't hold back at all, do you?"

"You asked for it. If you don't want to get hurt, maybe don't challenge me next time."

Maki clicked her tongue, gripping her naginata tighter. "Like that's gonna stop me."

I smirked just slightly before delivering the final blow, knocking her weapon aside and sending her flying back across the mat. She landed with a dull thud, groaning as she sat up.

"Seriously, Shiki," Maki muttered, "You hit like a damn truck."

I lowered my sword, stepping back. "You'll live."

As Maki pushed herself to her feet, dusting off her uniform, it was Fushiguro's turn to step forward. After finishing his lesson with Gojo, he'd often join us for physical training. It was no surprise — after all, Maki and I were the strongest cursed object users in the school. Training with us was as much a learning experience for him as it was for us.

Fushiguro stood before me, his wooden sword gripped tightly in both hands, eyes focused. His stance was solid, though I could tell he was still getting used to the weight of the weapon.

I took a step forward, testing his reflexes with a quick, light strike. He blocked it, but the force pushed him back slightly.

"Not bad," I said, stepping back again. "But don't just defend. Try attacking."

Fushiguro frowned slightly but nodded. He lunged forward, swinging his sword toward me. His movements were deliberate, but I could tell he wasn't fully confident yet. I parried easily, the wooden swords cracking together with a sharp pang.

"Too predictable," I said calmly, deflecting another of his strikes. "Try something else."

He adjusted his stance, this time coming at me from a lower angle. Better, but still not enough. I sidestepped and tapped his wrist with the flat of my sword, making him loosen his grip.

"You leave too many openings."

."Don't go easy on him, Shiki. He's gotta learn the hard way." From the sidelines, Maki grinned, still rubbing her shoulder from our earlier spar

Fushiguro shot her a brief glare before refocusing. I took the opportunity to press forward, delivering a quick series of strikes. He managed to block most of them, but the last one slipped through, knocking the sword from his hands. It clattered to the ground, and he froze, staring at the weapon for a moment.

I lowered my own sword, watching him. "You hesitate too much, in real combat, that'll get you killed." I said bluntly.

He picked up the sword, gripping it tighter this time. "I know,"

After that, it was Maki's turn.

Each time, we'd take turns teaching him the fundamentals of swordplay, or at least the ones we knew well enough.

I've been training him on his skill and coordination with the weapon, while Maki's focus has been on understanding and adapting to various weapon and his cursed technique.

Altough it was practically the same, the difference is crucial: with me, it's about honing his physical technique and reflexes, ensuring he doesn't become overly reliant on his shikigami. With Maki, it's more about how well versed he is with different kind of weaponry and how well he integrates his shikigami into his combat style and strategy.

Fushiguro stepped back, concentrating. He slowly formed a hand sign, and from his shadow emerged two dogs—one black and one white. This was Fushiguro's own cursed technique

"Ten Shadows Technique."

The dogs moved with a life of their own, their eyes gleaming with a predatory glint. Fushiguro, gripping his wooden sword tightly, directed the dogs to flank Maki while he moved in for the attack.

The clash between Maki and Fushiguro was already in full swing. His two dogs—black and white—darted around her, moving in quick succession as he struck with his sword.

The air was filled with the sound of their movements, the dogs growling as they circled Maki. She swung her staff, deflecting one of their lunges, while simultaneously dodging Fushiguro's strike.

Maki smirked, clearly enjoying the challenge. "You're getting better, Fushiguro! But you've still got a long way to go if you think you can take me down with just this!"

Fushiguro didn't respond, his face locked in concentration. He shifted his stance, the dogs responding to his subtle cues, their movements synchronized with his. It was impressive how well he coordinated with his shikigami.

But even so, I could see the outcome. Maki was too skilled and fast. She didn't rely on cursed energy the way most sorcerers did, but her physical prowess more than made up for it.

Fushiguro's dogs lunged at her again, and this time, she sidestepped and brought her staff down hard, smacking the black one away. At the same time, she parried Fushiguro's sword with her own forceful strike, sending him stumbling back.

I watched carefully. My eyes, as always, saw the lines on the shikigami. The lines of death, clear and sharp, traced over their forms. If I cut them—if I allowed my blade to follow those lines—they would be destroyed, erased from existence. That's why I told Fushiguro not to use his cursed technique against me. I didn't know what would happen if I killed his shikigami, and frankly, I wasn't interested in finding out.

Fushiguro recovered, his dogs regrouping as he prepared for another strike. But before he could launch his next attack, Maki was already on him. She closed the distance with lightning speed, her staff connecting with his sword in a heavy clash.

Fushiguro tried to hold his ground, but Maki's strength was overwhelming. With a powerful swing, she disarmed him, sending his wooden sword flying across the dojo.

One of the dogs lunged at Maki from behind, but she spun and slammed her staff into its side, sending it tumbling across the floor. The white one snarled, preparing to attack again, but Fushiguro called it off with a quick gesture. He was breathing hard, sweat dripping down his face.

"Not bad, Fushiguro. You're getting faster." Maki stood over him, grinning.

"Thanks," Fushiguro, still catching his breath, gave a small nod.

"You're improving," I said, my voice calm as I glanced at him. "But like I said earlier, you hesitate too much. You need to trust yourself more."

Suddenly, the dojo door was flung open with a loud bang, and Gojo walked in, his usual confident stride barely interrupted by the force of the door. He looked at us with a serious expression that replaced his usual playful demeanor.

"Alright, listen up!" Gojo called out, capturing both our attention. "Shiki, Megumi, I need you two to come with me. There's a mission today."

Fushiguro glanced at me, then back at Gojo. "What's the mission about?"

Gojo gave a quick, almost dismissive look at Fushiguro before turning his gaze back to me. "I'll explain everything on the way. For now, just be ready."

He then turned to me, his eyes lingering for a brief moment. It was strange—there was something in his glance that felt different.

I raised an eyebrow, catching his gaze. "Is something wrong?"

Gojo shook his head, his usual grin returning, though it seemed a bit forced. "No, nothing's wrong. Just… keep your eyes open."

Fushiguro, sensing the shift in the conversation, frowned. "What's going on?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," Gojo said quickly. "Let's get moving."

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Gojo POV

Earlier

The eyes that could see death, huh...

I was surprised when Shiki first told me about her eyes. It was more than I expected. At first, I thought they worked similarly to Nanami's cursed technique. But this... seeing death in the form of a line, a thread just waiting to be cut... that was something else entirely.

Is that why she seems so detached from everything? Or did she lose something much deeper, something far more significant, to develop that kind of power?

The more I learn about Shiki, the more intriguing she becomes. And yet, with each new detail, I can't shake the growing concern gnawing at me.

Shiki is different.

She's abnormal. Not like Megumi, who, despite everything, still feels human. Shiki... Shiki doesn't feel things like others do. She understands emotion, sure, but she can't connect to it. She doesn't empathize.

Is this what parents feel when they raise their daughters? Worrying about them, not just because of their choices, but because of the things they might never understand?

Just as I was mulling over my thoughts, a soft knock interrupted my train of thought.

"Come in."

Ichiji stepped through the door, looking unusually tense. His face carried a nervous energy that was hard to miss.

"What's going on?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He hesitated, then handed me a folder—an image clipped to the front and a report stapled inside.

"Is this true?" I asked Ichiji, who handed me the picture and a brief of the situation.

"Yes... it's the same as what happened four years ago," he replied quietly.

I looked down at the image again—a transfigured human, grotesque and distorted beyond recognition. The mangled limbs, the warped face, the unnatural twist to the body… I couldn't tear my eyes away from it. The description, the transformation... it was too similar.

My mind immediately went to Shiki.

The reason she even entered the world of jujutsu sorcery was revenge. Her parents had been victims of this very curse—transfigured into those horrific forms. It was the catalyst for everything. They weren't just killed—they were desecrated, turned into something far beyond death.

"Sigh… I'll let Shiki know," I muttered, closing the folder and setting it aside.

Ichiji visibly tensed at the mention of her name.

He hadn't forgotten his own brush with Shiki, despite never meeting her face-to-face. That one night in Tokyo... he'd only caught a glimpse of her in action, but apparently, that was more than enough. It had clearly left an impression on Ichiji, and judging by the way he was gripping his clipboard, it wasn't a good one.

"Don't look so pale, Ichiji," I teased, a smile tugging at my lips. "She's not that bad. Probably won't slice you in two."

He chuckled awkwardly, clearly unconvinced. His trauma with Shiki was probably far from fading.

This is exactly why I can't just leave her alone, and maybe just a little concerned. It's like babysitting a high-stakes ticking time bomb.

I left the room and started walking toward where Shiki was likely training. Should I let Megumi join this mission? It seemed like a solid first test for him, especially given his potential. Plus, maybe having him around would keep Shiki... in check.

Or, who knows? Maybe he would be the one to learn something from her.

With a light sigh, I adjusted my bandages. "Yeah... Megumi could use a challenge. Hopefully, he won't get too scared off by his 'new sister figure'."

Fushiguro Megumi POV

We were heading toward the mission site—me and Ryougi-senpai—but something was seriously off.

What the hell was with this atmosphere?

Even the driver was frozen solid.

He hadn't made a single sound since we got in the car. Not even a cough. It was like he was afraid that if he moved or spoke, he'd be eaten alive—starting from the head down.

And honestly? I couldn't blame him.

After Gojo-sensei explained the mission, Shiki-senpai seemed... different. Colder. I mean, she was always distant and expressionless, but today? Today, there was something heavier in the air. It clung to her like a shadow, and I could feel it, too, like a weight pressing down on my chest.

I shifted in my seat, glancing at her. She was sitting still, staring straight ahead. The usual calm, detached expression was there, but the silence around her felt sharper, more dangerous than usual.

I didn't know what had gotten into her, but one thing was for sure—this wasn't going to be a normal mission.

'Damn it, Gojo-sensei.' I thought inwardly

He must've known something like this would happen. Why else would he dump me with her today of all days? Was this part of his weird way of training me, or did he just like watching people squirm?

I took another deep breath, trying to push past the suffocating tension, but the air in the car was still thick, almost like it was pressing in from all sides. No matter how much I tried to ignore it, it was hard to pretend that the atmosphere wasn't closing in.

At some point, I started feeling bad for the driver. The guy was visibly sweating, clearly regretting ever taking this gig. When he accidentally hit a bump, the car shook violently, and that only made things worse. After that, his hands gripped the wheel like his life depended on it, and the sweat rolling down his neck never stopped.

'Is this what Gojo-sensei meant by "a new sister figure"?' I thought to myself, glancing at Shiki-senpai.

This was a complete 180 from what I imagined. Shiki-senpai was nothing like Tsumiki. If Tsumiki was warmth and care, then Shiki was... this. Cold, detached, and suffocating. I couldn't see a single hint of softness in her demeanor. I had no idea how Gojo-sensei thought this comparison made sense. I just hoped the drive would end soon.

Right as I thought that, we arrived at the location—finally. A huge apartment complex stood in front of us, looming and dark. It didn't look right.

I glanced back at the driver. He looked like he had just seen his life flash before his eyes. His whole body sagged in relief as if he'd narrowly escaped drowning. He looked like a man who had just been pardoned from a death sentence.

I didn't blame him. If I could, I'd make a run for it, too.

Then I turned to look at Ryougi-senpai beside me. Her eyes—normally dark and unreadable—had shifted, becoming something entirely different.

They glowed, now a deep, unnatural blue that seemed to pull in everything around them. I had already heard about her eyes from Gojo-sensei when I asked what kind of person Shiki Ryougi was. He never gave me a straight answer, only said, "You'll have to judge that for yourself."

But there was one thing he did tell me.

"Her eyes are beautiful."

And for once, Gojo-sensei wasn't exaggerating. The blue hue that came from her eyes was striking—enough to mesmerize anyone who dared to look for too long. It was both captivating and terrifying at the same time. There was something otherworldly about them, something that made it impossible to look away, even though every instinct in me said I should.

But I knew better than to let that beauty fool me. Those eyes were dangerous.

Forming a hand sign, I summoned my shikigami. Black and white dogs emerged silently from the shadow beneath my feet. hey padded forward, alert and ready, their eyes gleaming in the dim light of the apartment complex.

Ryougi-senpai didn't even glance at them, her focus entirely on the building ahead.

I gestured to the dogs, sending them ahead to scout the area. "My shikigami will check the perimeter," I said. "We should move in slowly."

"Do what you want," Shiki responded, already stepping toward the entrance without waiting for my input.

I watched her for a moment, trying to gauge her mood, but it was pointless. She was impossible to read.

As we reached the entrance, the dogs returned, growling softly. Whatever was in there was already aware of us.

Ryougi-senpai glanced at me briefly, her expression still cold. "It's coming."

As soon as the horde of gray, corpse-like figures came rushing toward us, I caught the sound of Ryougi-senpai's irritated sigh.

"Tch, why did these guys show up here?" she muttered, almost as if this was more of an inconvenience than a threat.

"Do you know anything about this, Senpai?" I called out, keeping my distance.

"For now, you can't kill them. Just immobilize them. Make sure they can't move," she replied, her tone sharp and matter-of-fact.

She didn't bother with explanations, but I didn't need them. If she said immobilize, I'd trust her judgment.

"Nue!"

Forming another hand sign, I summoned my winged shikigami, a large owl-like creature, and leapt onto its back as it soared into the air. From above, I had a clear view of the situation.

Senpai moved through the horde with disturbing ease. Her blade sliced through the bodies like they were nothing, limbs and heads flying in all directions. Even though these things were already dead, it was still unsettling to see her cut through human bodies so effortlessly. But I couldn't dwell on that. I had my own part to play.

"Paralyze them, Nue!" I commanded.

Nue's wings crackled with purple lightning, and with a flap, it released a shockwave of electricity down onto the horde. The corpses seized up, muscles locking as the lightning coursed through them. Despite being already dead, their human bodies reacted to the shock just the same. They dropped to the ground, twitching, unable to move.

As I circled above, I shouted down to Senpai. "What are these things?"

"They're meat puppets," she said without looking up, still cutting her way through them. "Someone's controlling them. I ran into them during a mission with Maki last month."

Meat puppets? That didn't sound good. "So, we're dealing with a sorcerer?"

"Most likely," she confirmed, slicing through another group of puppets.

"But that's not the focus of this mission. We still need to find those transfigured humans and exterminate them."

"Wait—so, the one controlling these puppets and the one making the transfigured humans... they're not the same person?" I asked, trying to piece things together.

She was absolutely certain, and for some reason, that didn't surprise me. The way she answered without hesitation, without even a flicker of doubt—she knew something, something important. But, like always, she wasn't in the mood to explain herself.

I glanced at her again, watching as she cut down the corpse puppet. The bodies hit the ground with a sickening thud, yet she didn't flinch. She moved with terrifying precision, almost mechanical, like she had done this a thousand times before.

For now, I just had to focus on the mission.

Shiki POV

This isn't it.

These puppets—useless flesh is just distractions. The real target is still out there.

I sliced through another puppet, its limp body crumbling to the ground. My mind was focused on something else, though. The transfigured humans—they were the priority. I needed to find them first before this trail went cold.

I glanced at Fushiguro, who was busy directing his shikigami to paralyze the remaining puppets.

"Fushiguro," I called out, my voice cutting through the noise of battle, "once we clear this, scan the area for residual energy. See if you can pick up anything."

He nodded, but I knew it wouldn't be easy. With so many of these puppets, the entire area was likely contaminated with traces of cursed energy. Residuals would be all over the place, making it difficult to locate the real source.

Tch, this is going to be a pain.

"Just focus on immobilizing these things," I said, slashing through another wave. "I'll handle the rest."

With the puppets mostly neutralized, we wasted no time.

"Let's split up," I said to Fushiguro. "Cover more ground that way."

He nodded, summoning his shikigami once again. "Understood. I'll check the upper floors."

I took a breath and headed deeper into the apartment complex. Each step echoed in the silence, only occasionally broken by the distant rustling of Fushiguro's shikigami or the sound of crumbling plaster underfoot.

The transfigured humans were in here somewhere, among the labyrinth of hallways and abandoned rooms.

After a while, I reached the end of a long, narrow hallway. A door, barely hanging on its hinges, stood slightly ajar. I pushed it open slowly, stepping into the dimly lit room.

I narrowed my eyes and stepped forward. Something was here.

"Fushiguro, anything on your end?" I asked through the phone, my voice low.

"Not yet," he replied. "But I found something strange on the upper floors. I'm checking it out."

"Keep me updated."

I could feel it—something nearby, I tightened my grip on the hilt of my sword. The room was empty, but the energy was too strong to ignore. Whatever it was, it was close.

Then, I saw it—a faint outline in the corner of the room. A twisted figure, barely human, its body hunched and grotesque.

A transfigured human.

This was it.

I unsheathed my sword, the cold metal reflecting the faint light of the room. The lines on the transfigured human were sharp and vivid, crisscrossing its grotesque body.

I took a step forward, and the thing lurched toward me, its body contorting in unnatural ways. But it didn't matter—those lines made everything easier.

I really want to cut it.

My sword sliced through its body, finding the line of death and cutting clean through.

The creature collapsed in a heap, its twisted form unraveling before it even hit the ground.

It was almost too easy.

As the transfigured human collapsed in a heap, its grotesque body unraveling a clean slice of my strike, I sheathed my sword without a second thought. The sensation of cutting through the line of death had become so routine that it hardly registered anymore. I stood there for a moment, watching the twisted form settle into stillness.

I heard footsteps behind me. Fushiguro entered the room, his gaze scanning for any residual energy, his dogs sniffing the ground to assist in the search, but I could see the frustration in his eyes. The sheer number of these cursed puppets had spread the residual energy thin, making it nearly impossible to pinpoint any useful trace.

"Sigh…" I exhaled a deep breath, more out of habit than necessity.

It was strange—this feeling, or rather, this lack of feeling. I was disappointed, but at the same time, I wasn't not disappointed either. Victory, frustration, satisfaction—they all blurred together into a murky indifference.

I was aware of it, painfully so. I could recognize the emptiness, the lack of fulfillment, but I couldn't change it. This was all I had, and maybe it was all I ever would have. It was the reason I entered this world in the first place the only thing that made sense when everything else crumbled.

"Sorry, Ryougi-senpai, the residual energy is all over the place. It's hard to get a clear read."

"…It's fine. We finished the mission."

There was a brief pause. "Yeah, the mission is over," he echoed, almost unsure of what else to say.

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Fushiguro Megumi POV

It was strange.

Seeing Ryougi-senpai like this was strange. And somehow, it made me uncomfortable.

It felt like I'd disappointed Tsumiki, but this was different. When she was angry, at least there was a clear reason behind it. But Senpai right now... there was nothing. No anger, no frustration—just emptiness. A hollow kind of indifference that I couldn't make sense of.

I didn't understand it in the first place. So why did I feel the need to? We'd only known each other for a few weeks. We barely talked, and she only trained me alongside Maki-senpai. There wasn't anything deep between us, no reason for me to care this much.

But somehow, standing here, watching her in this moment, I felt like I should say something. Anything.

"Don't feel down..."

The words slipped out before I even realized what I was saying. What the hell did I just say?! It made me sound like an idiot. My face immediately heated up, and I turned away, hoping she wouldn't make a big deal out of it. But I could still feel her eyes on me.

Against my better judgment, I stole a glance and sure enough, she was still staring at me.

"What?" Her voice was flat, but there was something in her tone that made me immediately regret speaking.

I quickly averted my gaze, scratching the back of my neck. "I mean… You did a good job. We finished the mission, right?"

The silence stretched on for a moment, and I was sure I sounded like a complete idiot. But then, she spoke, her voice quieter this time.

"Why do you fight, Fushiguro?"

The question caught me off guard. unsure how to respond. "Why do I fight...?"

"Yes," she said, her gaze steady. "What keeps you going?"

I didn't have to think too hard about it. "To protect the people I care about," I answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She didn't say anything for a moment, just stared at me with that same unreadable expression. But then, without warning, she stepped forward and gently placed her hand on my head, giving it a quick pat before turning away.

"That's a good answer," she said, her tone a little lighter. "Let's head back."

I froze for a second, surprised. But, a small, surprised smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

Somehow, the pat felt good.

[END]

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That's it for the chapter. I hope you guys enjoyed it!

[Thanks For Reading!]