Curse of Ignorance Ch 6
It is lucky that, unlike the past two days, Shirawachi-sensei did not opt to have his students spar today. Instead, he had his students practicing their techniques individually and in groups, all under the domes that are becoming more and more familiar. Because everyone is only practicing, and not doing any sort of fighting, Shirawachi-sensei did not feel the need to hold up his class until after classes officially ended. In fact, the domes covering Shirawachi-sensei's side of the training field vanished almost in unison with Juba-sensei announcing the end of the class on my side of the field.
I call this a lucky occurrence because I plan to approach that white-haired kid as soon as class ends in order to get the information I want. Sure, he may have threatened bodily harm to me, but surely there's no way he'll follow through in front of so many witnesses, right? That's what I'm betting the structural integrity of my body on.
I tried to walk towards Shirawachi-sensei's side of the field with confident strides. Not too fast, but not too slow, either. I don't want to seem desperate or reluctant. Even though he's a couple of years older than me and therefore probably way stronger than me, I have to go into this believing that I am an equal. Show weakness in front of a predator, and they will pounce. That's what I want to avoid.
He was expecting me. Unlike the days before, the white-haired kid did not move to leave immediately after class ended. Instead, he stood in place, his gaze feeling like it was boring into me as I approached.
Soon enough, I reached a distance where I wouldn't need to raise my voice to be heard clearly. I stopped for a moment, waiting to see if he would say anything. He just stared, with a vaguely unimpressed look on his face. Looks like it was up to me to initiate.
"Do you want to talk?"
A response came immediately. "Why should I?"
This response stumped me. What could I possibly have to offer to this kid in exchange for information? Money? I was a five-year-old, utterly dependent on my parents and the jujutsu school for survival. Power? Again, I was a five-year-old, who was only inducted into the ways of jujutsu sorcery recently. I had no power to give. Knowledge? The only real thing that stands out about me is that I'm a reincarnated person, who lived in the future in my past life. I could maybe tell him to invest in Amazon or something similar, but would a kid like this even care about that? I could tell him about the pandemic in 2020, but that's so far in the future that he probably won't care about that, either. AAAAH! It doesn't matter! I've already spent too long thinking! I basically decided on giving information in exchange for information already, so let's just go with that and forget about the details!
"How about a binding vow? If you give me the information that I want, I will pay you back with information of equal value."
He scoffed. "Not worth it. I have no guarantee that you have that kind of information. Having to deal with school officials breathing down my neck on why one of their students got obliterated by the heavens would be a hassle."
That stopped me in my tracks for a bit. I took a moment to turn the problem over in my mind before quickly coming up with a solution. "How about if I make a binding vow with myself? Swear before the heavens that I have knowledge that I consider to be of equal value to the information that I want?"
He scoffed again. "That's not how binding vows work, idiot. Binding vows aren't meant to be lie detectors. They're equivalent exchanges that bind your actions, either preventing you from doing something or forcing you to do something in exchange for getting some kind of benefit. If you don't know something as simple as that, I don't believe you have any information worth exchanging. I'm leaving." As if to reinforce that last sentence, the white-haired kid turned on his heel, visibly intent on marching off to wherever it is that he goes after classes.
Ack! How could I be so stupid!? I knew that! Juba-sensei taught me how binding vows worked only a few days before! My mind raced, attempting to come up with a solution that actually worked. "Waitwaitwait! Alright, how about this: A binding vow, something along the lines of strengthening me according to how long it has been since I lied. I then tell you that my knowledge is equal in value to the information that I want. If I feel my strength drop, then I give up. I don't have something of equal value, it is what it is. I don't want to die to a binding vow—or anything else, really! If I don't give up, you know that I can pay you back."
He stopped in his tracks and turned to face me. He thought it over for a moment with a considering expression on his face before nodding decisively. "That sounds like it would work. You should probably add some kind of timed condition to ensure that the vow only has a limited duration, though. Letting the vow affect you for your entire life would be stupid."
I tilted my head, confused. "Why? It's not like there's any downside, right? I either have my normal level of strength, which I'm used to, or I get free strength. Sounds like a win-win to me."
The white-haired kid took on a lecturing pose. "First of all, the amount of strength probably isn't worth it. With binding vows, you gain as much as you lose. Unless you're a compulsive liar, vowing not to lie won't give you much of a boost. Second, it's unreliable. You'll get used to your boosted levels of strength, and grow unfamiliar with your actual strength. What if it's necessary to lie to someone? For example, if you're trying to evacuate civilians from an area infested with curses. What are you going to tell them? You can't tell them about curses. You're going to be forced to lie and say that there's a gas leak or that a dangerous animal escaped from the zoo or something. After that, you'll be weaker than usual and unfamiliar with your strength. When you go to fight the curses, you'll make mistakes and misjudge yourself. All it takes is one miscalculation at the wrong time to die. Ideally, the binding vows that affect you your whole life should be hard to accidentally break and easy to intentionally activate in order to avoid that kind of situation."
Faced with such a strong argument, I could only agree. "Okay, so the final version's something like this? Strength based on how long it's been since I lied, but only for today?"
"Sounds about right," was the reply.
Okay. Here goes nothing. I took a deep breath before speaking. "I make a vow with the heavens. The terms are: I gain strength proportional to how long it has been since I last lied. This vow lasts until the end of today."
It felt different from the last time I made a binding vow. There was no sense that the world was becoming oppressive or any phantom sensation of chains binding me in place. There was no implanted knowledge in my mind broadcasting the terms of the vow. Instead, I just felt a slight tug on my cursed energy as the vow took hold. For a moment, I worried that nothing happened. But then, I noticed it. Was my cursed energy flowing a little faster? Was there a little bit more cursed energy inside of me than before? Taking a moment to thoroughly compare my current state against my memories, I become more and more confident that the binding vow gave me slightly more strength, as I had planned.
The white-haired kid used his electric blue eyes to inspect me as if he could see the changes in my cursed energy himself. "Looks like it worked," he commented.
"I think it did. Okay, on to the next step. The knowledge that I hold is equivalent in value to the information that I want to know." I waited, checking intently for any changes in the state of my cursed energy. I really didn't want to get obliterated by the heavens for making a mistake, so I double and triple checked. Nothing.
"No change in strength," I relayed. "Now for the binding vow with each other?"
The white-haired kid nodded, his face turning serious. "Alright, here are the terms. I am under no obligation to give you the information you want. If I give you the information you want, you are obligated to pay me back in information of equal value. To clarify, if I give you information that you were not asking for, you are not obligated to pay me back. This vow lasts until the end of today. Violation of the terms will result in punishment from the heavens. Deal?"
That was a lot wordier than the initial vow I proposed. I understand the timed component of the vow because of the earlier explanation, but what about the other stuff? Noticing the confusion on my face, he explained. "The extra stuff is so neither of us can scam each other."
Satisfied with that, I nodded. "Okay, deal." As I uttered those words, I felt the vow take hold. A strong tug on my cursed energy. The air felt heavier, like the heavens themselves were watching. The phantom sensation of a collar tightening around my neck. Understanding blooming in my mind, making sure I have no excuse for violating the terms.
While I was caught up in all the sensations, the world grew silent. There was no more whistling of the wind. No more rustling as the leaves of trees brushed against each other. No more of the low murmuring as children chatted with each other in the distance. Instead, all I could hear was my breath. My heartbeat. The crunch of dirt under my feet as I adjusted my footing.
The white-haired kid spoke, deafeningly loud in the silence. "I made it so no one can eavesdrop on us. Now, what did you want to know?"
"Yesterday, you said that you were targeted by assassins and kidnappers. How often does that happen?"
He laughed. It was short and sharp, the kind that happens when you get surprised. "Oh, that? I lost track!" He flashed a smirk at me, like he had just told the most clever joke in the world. He swiftly transitioned into a thoughtful expression, tapping his chin with a finger in a display of exaggerated thought. "But if I had to guess, it happens around ten to twenty times a year? It used to be more, but it happens a lot less lately. Maybe they're running out of assassins?"
I couldn't help but feel shocked. Ten to twenty times a year is considered "a lot less"!? Just how many people were after him during the "peak season"? And why? I felt a bit faint at the prospect of having that number of people intent on taking my life, but I held on to the hope that this guy was just a massive outlier. The Spiders Georg of assassination attempts.
"And how many assassination attempts would an average jujutsu sorcerer expect to encounter?"
"Psh! That's easy! Are you sure that you needed to ask me about this? Zero!"
A rush of relief went through my body as I heard those words. "So you're saying I won't be in any danger if I keep attending this school?"
"Huh? Yeah? Why would you be in danger?" As he asked this, the white-haired kid's posture oozed confusion. Like the thought of being in danger at this school never crossed his mind, despite being the target of an assassination attempt at school just a few days ago. Is the school really that safe, for his confidence in his own security to be so unshaken? Even if he's confident, I'm still skeptical. I would really need to see the school's ability to protect me in action before I fully entrust my life to them.
"Well, with what you said about assassins yesterday, I was worried that an assassin would come one day and I would become collateral damage." Like your classmate almost did, was what I almost said. Still, I held my tongue. It felt unnecessarily confrontational, considering that the current mood was good and light. I didn't want to ruin it and have to start worrying about my health again.
Upon hearing my answer, his confused demeanor quickly cleared up, revealing the almost excessively cheerful that was lurking underneath. "Oh, right! Well, don't worry! Only the really suicidal ones attack me at the school! By the time another idiot like that comes around, our training field will be fixed and you'll be nice and far away from any attacks!"
I wasn't quite satisfied with that reassurance, but it seems like it is going to be the best I'm going to get. I decided to move on to asking about my other major worry.
"Okay, how many fights against other sorcerers would an average jujutsu sorcerer expect to see? I'm not talking about just assassination attempts anymore, I'm talking about any sort of conflict."
He took on the exact same exaggerated thinking pose as before, finger tapping on the chin and all. "Hmm…. Well it kind of depends? If you're strong, then you'll fight curse users a lot, and if you're weak, then you won't. Mostly because the weak sorcerers usually end up dying when they fight curse users."
I made a mental note of the term "curse user", as it was not one that I heard before. At first glance, it seemed synonymous with the term "jujutsu sorcerer". After all, jujutsu sorcerers use curses. It would be kind of hard not to, considering that the basis of our power is cursed energy. But, given the context, I think that the designation "curse user" might belong solely to the bad guy sorcerers.
I also felt a bit of unease at this kid's words, not just at the thought of being one of those "weak" sorcerers that end up dying to the evil sorcerers, but also at the sheer nonchalance with which he spoke about the deaths of sorcerers. Those are your allies, you know? Your comrades in the eternal struggle against curses. Would it kill you to show some sympathy? Still, I continued with my line of questioning.
"And when we get into fights with curse users––" As I used this unfamiliar terminology, I carefully observed the white-haired kid. I didn't get any weird looks for using the term wrong, so that's further evidence in support of my guess as to its definition. "––are we expected to capture or kill them? Like, is there some kind of sorcerer jail that I don't know about?"
"There is a prison, but it's mainly meant for people who disobey commands or break one of the less important rules. If you're fighting a curse user, then just kill them. Even if you did manage to capture them, they would probably just be executed anyway for their crimes."
My feelings of unease deepened. I didn't know how to feel about this. On some level, I expected it. I could think of several reasons why a policy like this is in place. But still… it was morally questionable. I couldn't spend too much time soaking in this new information, though, since I was in the middle of talking with this kid. Alright, ponder later, finish the conversation now.
"Alright, that's all I wanted to know. As for payment…" I was putting it off before, but what sort of information should I give him? Based on his attitude, the information I asked for isn't all that valuable, so I could probably get away with telling him some cheap future knowledge, like who wins the US elections or something. Still, I don't want to try getting punished by the heavens. It's probably better to overpay rather than underpay in this case. With that in mind, I continued where I left off. "... near the beginning of the year 2020, it is very likely that there will be a global pandemic, causing many deaths."
With that, I felt the imaginary collar around my neck loosen. It seems like this is the heavens' way of telling me that the payment was sufficient.
The white-haired kid looked up at the sky, as if asking the heavens whether what he just heard was true. Seeing as no lightning fell down from the clear blue sky to punish me, it was soon apparent that what I said had at least a little validity to it.
Seeing as I had nothing else that I urgently needed to know, I decided to just walk off while he was busy staring at the sky. As I did, though, I encountered a strange yet familiar sensation. I was expending energy without actually moving forwards. I took a step back. That wasn't hindered, at least. I stretch my arm outwards. On the way to full extension, my arm just stopped, even though I clearly felt like I was putting in effort and continuing to extend my arm.
I turned back to find the white-haired kid observing me messing with the… what is this? A barrier? A technique? "Hey, could you get rid of this thing?"
He jumped a little, as if he forgot that I was there. "Oh, right, I better get going too."
Without any visible signal, my hand suddenly broke through the invisible boundary that previously arrested its forward movement. At the same time, sound came rushing back in, breaking the absolute silence that I was slowly getting used to. I slowly brought my foot forward in a move that was almost like dipping a toe in the pool to check its temperature. It moved unimpeded. Seeing that all was good, I started walking towards the cafeteria. All this worrying made me hungry.
Even though I was hoping to have a nice, relaxing dinner after spending all of today worrying over things, I was immediately ambushed as I made to sit down at my usual spot.
No, it was not the kind of ambush that I had been fearing all day. It was even worse. A social ambush.
"Hey, I didn't know that you knew Gojo Satoru."
At first, I ignored this comment at first, because there was no way that I was the intended recipient, right? I don't have any friends who would go out of their way to talk to me like that.
"Hey, you! I'm talking to you!"
Settled into my seat, I started eating. Does the food taste better than usual, or is it just my imagination? Anyway, while eating, I began to plan the rest of the night. I was in the middle of testing all possible combinations of six hand signs, but that was starting to get boring. Maybe for a change of pace, I could start testing the effects of the hand signs I know on cursed energy reinforcement? Or maybe I could go to the library and pick up another book. Maybe the one on chanting that I saw before? There could be situations where I want to boost my strength, but want my hands free. Chanting could be good for that.
"Hey! Underclassman who sits at our table but never talks!"
Hearing such a specific callout, I could only recognize that, for whatever reason, someone was actually talking to me. Turning my attention away from planning, I looked up from my plate of food. The person who was trying to get my attention was… what was his name again? Takeo? Takashi? Something that started with a T, in any case.
Seeing that he finally got my attention, Tadashi spoke again. "I didn't know that you knew Gojo Satoru."
Huh? I tilted my head in confusion. Gojo Satoru? The one who's the frequent subject of gossip at the dinner table? The once-in-an-era genius? The one who's already a top-level sorcerer at the tender age of ten years old? Well, of course I know of him, but I don't know him on a personal level, like Taiji seems to be implying. I said as much to Takaaki.
"No, no, no! Everyone clearly saw you talking with Gojo on the training field and being all buddy-buddy with him! Right guys!?" At that cue, everyone else at the table, who were silently spectating this conversation before, nodded in unison.
Talking… on the training field? Oh. OOOOOH!
Well, apparently, the person I've been calling "the white-haired kid" in my head is Gojo Satoru. I stalked Gojo Satoru. Well, I guess I know why he has so many assassins after him now?
My face must have betrayed the sense of dawning realization, because Takahisa cried out in incredulity. "Wait you're telling me you don't know who you were talking to!? How do you even get to talking to someone without knowing their name!?"
At that, I couldn't help but comment, "I mean, we're doing it right now. You're talking to me without knowing my name."
Takamichi was a bit taken aback, but quickly retorted. "Well, yeah, but this and that are different. I mean, we're talking about Gojo Satoru, here. Gojo Satoru! He's famous! You should have just been able to tell who he was based off of how he looks! Who else would have that hair and those eyes?"
I felt the urge to interject what seemed to be a rapidly-forming rant. "I knew that Gojo Satoru exists, but people never talk about how he looks. It's always about how he's so strong and talented. How am I supposed to know what he looks like if no one tells me?"
"You just—you just do!" Takao spluttered. With a huff, he flopped back down into his seat and began shoveling food in his mouth, ending the conversation abruptly. Well, that conversation didn't go very well. I shrugged and went back to my food. People are weird.