Third Person POV
The man walked casually through the bustling crowd, his loud humming cutting through the noise of the busy street.
"Hmm hmm hmm~"
Despite the volume of his tune, not a single person turned to look at him, it was as if he didn't exist.
As he strolled, his eyes caught a movie poster displayed prominently outside a nearby theater.
"Human worm 3."
The ticket counter had a single customer—a young man fumbling for change while nervously glancing at the movie schedule. The clerk, looking slightly annoyed, waited for him to decide on his ticket.
Meanwhile, the man strolled in through the entrance. He walked right past the counter, his presence completely unnoticed.
Inside the theater, the screening room was nearly empty, save for a few scattered people.
He settled into a seat, watching as the grotesque film unfolded on the screen. It wasn't so much the movie itself that caught his attention, but the concept of it—a twisted display of humanity's darker side.
However, his focus was soon disrupted.
Near the center of the room, a group of high schoolers laughed and talked loudly, their voices disrupting the quiet.
The man watched them curiously, rising from his seat. His footsteps were silent as he approached, his presence going unnoticed.
Leaning in close, he whispered with a gentle smile, "You guys… try to learn some manners, okay?"
The students continued their chatter, ignoring him completely. Or rather, they didn't even seem to register his existence.
Then, almost casually, he reached out and touched one of their faces.
The result was instant.
The student's body contorted grotesquely, their flesh twisting and ripping apart in an unnatural display of horror. The other two froze in terror, unable to comprehend what was happening. But the man didn't stop. One by one, he touched them, and each suffered the same grotesque fate.
When it was over, the man turned back toward the movie, humming again as though nothing had happened.
"Hmm hmm hmm~"
The theater was silent once more.
After the screening ended, the man casually left the theater. The bustling streets greeted him as he walked leisurely toward a narrow, empty alley.
Just as he was about to disappear into the shadows, a voice called out from behind him.
"Excuse me," a young man said firmly.
The man paused, but not turning around.
"The incident in the cinema. Did you do it?"
Hearing that, the man chuckled, his shoulders shaking slightly with amusement.
"Wow. So, you can see me." he said softly, his voice carrying an unnatural cheerfulness
Slowly, the man turned, revealing his face. Patchwork scars crisscrossed his skin like a grotesque quilt. His eerie smile stretched unnaturally.
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Third Person POV
Itadori Yuji and Gojo Satoru are now in a remote location.
Due to the circumstances, Itadori's revival was hidden from the higher-ups. So, during this time, Gojo make use of the time he has to train Yuji.
"You're superior to the others when it comes to close combat, Yuji. So, what you need to learn now is how to control cursed energy, as well as very minimal jujutsu knowledge."
"Hehehe…"
"What's the matter?
"Oh, I figured you'd be the best person to train me, so I'm just happy. I'm weak, and I couldn't save anybody. Worse, I nearly killed Fushiguro. As I am now, I won't be able to face them. I want to become strong. Teach me to be the strongest!"
"Fufu! You've got a keen eye. All right, first, take a look at those drink cans over there."
Gojo began explaining the fundamental principle behind using cursed energy and activating cursed techniques. He likened cursed energy to electricity and cursed techniques to appliances, emphasizing how raw energy alone was difficult to use effectively.
Picking up an empty can from the ground, he demonstrated how cursed energy worked in its pure form. A flick of his wrist sent a small surge of energy through his fingers, causing the can to crumple slightly.
He continued by explaining that channeling cursed energy through a technique was like running electricity through an appliance—it made the energy purposeful and efficient. To illustrate, he twisted the can completely, this time using a controlled burst of cursed energy refined through a cursed technique. The difference between the raw force and its refined application was clear. One was crude and unpolished, while the other demonstrated precision and control.
"In other words, I'm about to learn a really powerful cursed technique, right?!"
"No," Gojo said bluntly. "You can't use cursed techniques."
"What?" The excitement turned to confusion in an instant.
"Cursed techniques aren't something you can just learn," he continued. "Setting aside simple Shikigami and barriers, cursed techniques are etched into your body from the day you're born."
"Huh?"
"The power of a jujutsu sorcerer is roughly 80% innate talent," Gojo explained, his tone matter-of-fact.
Gojo shrugged off the limitations, his expression turning upbeat. "Let's not dwell on what you can't do! Instead, we'll focus on enhancing your strengths. We'll work on getting you to imbue your fighting style with cursed energy."
He grinned confidently. "Honestly, I'm way more scared of someone who can master the basics and force their way through than I am of someone with inferior jujutsu skills."
"Huh?"
"Like I just said, your talent for close combat is top-notch! We just need to polish it a little bit more."
Gojo casually raised his hand. "Try to punch me, but this time, imbue your punch with cursed energy,"
Itadori's eyes widened slightly before he straightened up. "Ah! Wait! I can already do that! Back then, I somehow managed to get the hang of it."
Gojo's expression remained relaxed as he pointed to his palm. "Then give it a try."
"Don't blame me if you get hurt."
With a sharp exhale, Itadori threw a punch straight into Gojo's palm. The impact landed with a dull thud, but Gojo didn't flinch. "That didn't have any cursed energy behind it."
Itadori stared at him, baffled. "How?! What went wrong?"
Gojo explained that every sorcerer was trained to produce cursed energy from even the faintest sparks of emotion. But just as important, they also trained to avoid wasting it during moments when emotions flared out of control.
"There are several methods to train this," Gojo said with a smirk. "I'll be having you use a pretty exhausting one."
Itadori blinked, unsure where this was going. "L-Like what?"
"Watching movies."
"Watching movies?"
"Yep!" Gojo nodded enthusiastically. "Everything from masterpieces to C-grade horror flicks and awful French films. You'll be watching them nonstop as long as you're awake." He reached into a nearby bag and pulled out a small, doll-like figure that seemed to be sleeping deeply.
Itadori examined the doll, shaking it slightly, but it didn't respond. "What's with the cute but creepy doll? I don't really get what you're trying to do here."
"Don't be hasty," Gojo said with a sly grin. "You'll see soon enough."
As if on cue, the doll stirred. Its movements were sluggish at first, but its head snapped up, and its button eyes seemed to glint with a sudden sharpness. The doll came to life and threw a punch straight into Itadori's face.
"Gahhh!" Itadori staggered back, clutching his cheek.
"That cursed doll will wake up and attack you just like that if you don't keep pouring a set amount of cursed energy into it,"
"Oww!"
"Like I said, we've got all kinds of movies here," Gojo continued, ignoring the complaint. "Heart-throbbers, thrillers, ones that'll make you laugh, cry, or even feel disgusted!"
"Your first goal," Gojo said, clearly enjoying himself, "is to watch an entire movie from start to finish without waking the cursed corpse. This trains you to maintain a steady output of cursed energy, no matter what emotions you feel. Too much or too little, and it'll wake up. Good luck!"
And with that, Itadori Yuji's training officially began.
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Third Person POV
Back at Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical High School, all the students had gathered on the training field.
In preparation for the upcoming Kyoto Goodwill Event, the second-years had taken it upon themselves to train the first-years.
Everyone was dressed in tracksuits, except for Shiki. she still wore her traditional kimono, though it was paired with a striking red leather jacket. A gift from Gojo, she'd initially dismissed it, but over time, she found herself growing attached to it, though she'd never admit it aloud.
The second-years stood in a loose circle, deep in discussion about the best way to train Megumi and Kugisaki.
"Megumi's sharp when it comes to using his shikigami," Panda began, his arms crossed. "But his hand-to-hand combat needs serious work."
"Same with Kugisaki," Maki added, adjusting her glasses.
Salmon," Toge chimed in with a nod, his agreement clear.
"So, what do you think? Sparring?" Panda asked, his tone decisive.
"That's not a bad idea," Maki nodded. "They'll hate it, but it'll push them where they're weakest."
It didn't take long for the group to come to an agreement.
"Good, it's decided then," Panda declared with a toothy grin. "Now, who's going to lead the greetings?"
As if on cue, all three of them turned their heads toward Shiki, who had been leaning casually against a tree, arms crossed, listening but clearly uninterested.
Shiki raised an eyebrow at the attention. "What?"
"You're up," Maki said with a smirk. "Lead the warmup."
Shiki sighed, brushing off her red leather jacket and stepping forward
For some reason, among the second-years, it had become an unspoken tradition: whenever they organized a large training session, Shiki was the one who had to start it off. No one knew exactly when or why this started, but it always ended up being her.
Shiki stood before Megumi and Kugisaki.
Megumi, on the other hand, looked visibly uneasy. For someone who had always been given the rough end of the stick, the prospect of sparring with Shiki was terrifying. And the worst of all, they weren't even trying to hide their amusement.
It irritated Megumi. They knew—they knew exactly how rough Shiki could be.
Kugisaki noticed his tension and frowned. "What's with you? Are you seriously nervous? Come on, it can't be that bad."
Megumi didn't respond. His focus stayed locked on Shiki. He'd seen her fight before. Sparring with someone like her wasn't just intimidating—it was downright terrifying.
"Geez, you're no fun at all. Fine, just try not to embarrass yourself, okay?"
Maki, standing off to the side, watched them with a faint smirk. "Alright, that's enough chatter," she said, raising her hand.
"Ready… Fight."
The moment the word left Maki's lips; Shiki moved. No—she disappeared. In the blink of an eye, she was gone from where she had been standing.
Before Megumi could even register what had happened, Shiki reappeared behind him. There was no time to react or chance to defend himself. Her fist struck his chin with pinpoint precision. The force of the blow caused his brain to momentarily jolt against the inside of his skull—a sharp, sudden movement that overwhelmed his nervous system.
He crumpled instantly, unconscious before he even hit the ground.
Kugisaki, still trying to make sense of what had just happened, froze. "What the hell just—" Her words caught in her throat as her eyes darted to Megumi, now sprawled on the ground like a discarded rag doll.
"Fushiguro?!" she yelled, her voice rising in alarm.
"What the hell just happened?" Kugisaki muttered under her breath, her heart racing. Her mind scrambled, desperately trying to calculate how to defend against Shiki's next move. But none of it mattered.
Before she could even raise her staff properly, a sharp blow to her head sent her crashing to the ground.
It was as if sleep had come instantly. The world around her blurred to black before she could even register the pain. It was over too quickly to put up a fight—too fast to even think.
For a brief moment, it felt like slipping into a dream.
Shiki had taken down both first-years in an instant.
Panda, who had been silently watching from the sidelines, scratched his head. "How's anyone supposed to learn anything when they're unconscious?" he asked, clearly confused by the outcome.
"Salmon," Toge added, his monotone voice a hint of agreement.
Maki, on the other hand, wasn't as understanding. She marched up to Shiki, hands on her hips, frustration written all over her face. "What are you doing?!"
Shiki blinked, tilting her head slightly. "What?"
"They're supposed to be training, not getting knocked out cold!" She said, pointing at Megumi and Kugisaki's limp forms.
"…"
Maki pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out a heavy sigh. "You're ridiculous, you know that? Help me wake them up."
Shiki, not quite understanding the concern, gave a quick glance to the first years. She hadn't meant to knock them out that quickly. Usually, she was better at holding back, but... something about today had just made her push a little harder. Maybe she had gotten a bit stressed.
"Did I go too far?" she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.
"Obviously," Maki replied dryly, already bending down to slap Megumi's face lightly in an attempt to bring him back to consciousness.
"Well, it's just their first sparring session," Shiki said, shrugging. "We've got two more months to go, right?"
Maki didn't answer immediately, simply massaging her temples.
It seemed like the first years had a long way to go.
[END]
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That's it for the chapter. I hope you guys enjoyed it!
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[Thanks for Reading!]