Jujutsu Osen "JJO" : meaning "Sorcery Curse" Pt2

JJO Proper: The air in the detention room was thick with the scent of old paper and the hum of high-grade sealing talismans. The long grey haired patched faced teen sat tied and slumped in a wooden chair, his head lolling to the side as he fought the urge to nap—a habit that had earned him a reputation for coy laziness, despite his sharp, analytical mind. As Sukuna Itadori, the strongest sorcerer of the current age, stepped into the room and he informed the confused yet seemingly unbothered teen about the sentence he had been bestowed with by the Jujutsu Higher ups.

**But how did we get here? Lets see...** (Flashback Begins): as rewind back about 2 days prior we start the day seeing the lazed yet smart teen, Mahito Soma make his daily routine, before heading to Sugisawa Third High School where we see how he spends most of his school life just coasting by and sleeping through classes as he gets scolded by teachers and honour students alike but despite that he still gets good grades, especially in STEM and Arts subjects. Meanwhile a new student is introduced to an adjacent class to Mahito's, the new student being Reggie Hagane (who had arrived the night before, to check on a near by shrine in which one of Satoru's eyes should have been kept in a small pickled jar but the glass container was missing and sensed that a "human" had taken it*) as he tries tracking the cursed object down while trying to blend in, (as much as his dirty blonde Mekakushi hair in a loose ponytail and the wooing upper class men can allow him to), though he witnesses a peculiar scene as during lunch he saw how clever Mahito was as he was able to use loopholes and grey area arguments to out-think the honour student of the debate team as Reggie swimming among the congregated crowd, he met Mahito's friends Setsuko Sasaki and Takeshi Iguchi as they briefly converse as Sasaki notes how Mahito despite his very lazy and childish demeanour he is shockingly and terrifyingly clever and skilled but he never applies himself.

As Mahito finishes his verbal bout with the Debate team realises the tome "Damn, its 04:30 pm already? Well...gotta go!" as he hurries away. Sasaki and Takeshi rushed off to their E.T. club though as Mahito passed by Reggie, Reggie felt the residual curse energy assuming Mahito had come into contact with the cursed object he was looking for but the trio rush off before he can call out to them, as he tries to chase them he is intercepted by a groupie of girls, as he then opts to remain past closing time to explore the school grounds, meanwhile the trio in the E.T. club (a glorified storage room) unveiled the sci-fi looking jar of an inhuman eyes which was wrapped in what seemed to be old talismans as they open the jar fishing the squishy eye out which was wrapped in even more talismans.

Though Mahito had to leave before they could open the jar as he had to go to the hospice where his grandmother Kimura Soma. As he arrived he greeted her in his usual cheery and playful manner checking up on her but she could see through him like a book as she knew her time was coming to and end as while cupping his cheek she asked him to make her a promise:

"Listen to your guts, My dear. Let your heart guide you to people who are genuine, who are kind. Stop hiding behind the jokes. Wear your soul on your sleeve, bind yourself to loved ones, and live this life to the absolute limit."

as Mahito in a rare moment of quiet and vulnerable sorrow he accepts the promise "I promise" as she smiles laying back onto the bed as she closes her eyes taking a few breaths as they got more and more shallow until she didn't take anymore and her hand went limp, as Mahito shed a few tears he informed the nurses of her passing as he, filled the Hospital paperwork and collected her few belongings, he was already brainstorming how he would prepare the funeral as he exited the hospice Reggie was there waiting for him as he offers his condolences at Mahito's freshly recent loss. As he questions Mahito on the sealed jar explaining its danger and lethal threat which has Mahito ramage through his back as he handed the jar to Reggie but unfortunately the Jar didn't have the eye inside it as Reggie now starting to truly be worried and frantic hurriedly questioned Mahito who revealed that his clubmates have the actual eye and plan to unseal it at the school that very night. Reggie hearing the worst case scenario tells him that his friends are in danger as he sprints off towards Sugisawa Third High School, though Mahito rapidly going through the a mix of fear confusion and disbelief he steels his resolved remembering the promise he made his grandma as he runs after Reggie, meanwhile Sasaki and Takeshi having returned to the school (after ours 10:00 pm) using a box cutter they unsealed the eye from its talismans (the pupil is shaped like a triangle while the iris was a sickly yet vibrant azure and the sclera was crinkled and a beige-grey) as they looks in disgusted awe they don't notice the curses sneaking up on them as they duo felt like a unnatural cold shiver and creeping paranoia settle on them as unbeknownst to them the eye having been unsealed by them and becoming a beacon to every curses in the surrounding area, as some of them attack the due one overwhelming Takeshi and knocking him out and another taking hold of Sasaki and tries to consume her and the eye meanwhile the rest of the school is now swarming with all types of curse spirits. As Reggie and Mahito reach the school gate Reggie can and even Mahito can feel the malevolence radiating from the school as Reggie tells Mahito to wait there as it would be too dangerous for him, as himself climbs the gate and enters in using curse energy to burn some receipts he had sown and hidden within his school uniform as thewy burn objects materialise around him (Knives, poles, ropes, etc) as he sends them to kill the curses in his way (this being his Innate technique; Contractual Re-Creation (再契さいけっ象しょう Saikesshō^(?)) is Reggie's cursed technique. It allows him to reproduce the subject of contracts, such as whatever is written on receipts. As the name suggests, this technique uses contracts such as receipts to produce anything written on them. This manifests the main subject of the respective receipts, which are generally specific items or services. For example, the user could use a receipt for kitchen knives to summon them as weapons or they could use a receipt for two days at a spa to replenish their stamina.

Things the user re-creates can behave like shikigami. Normal kitchen knives can be ordered to fly through the air at the user's opponent using a simple mental command. However, anything given such a command will disappear soon after completing it.

In order to activate Contractual Re-Creation, the user must apply their curse energy to the contract and burn it. This makes water a natural countermeasure to this technique. While the print written on contracts will not immediately fade due to getting wet, it will make it impossible to burn it.)

Clearing a path for himself as he comes across Takeshi checking on him and applying first aid on him, as he eventually reaches the 3rd floor seeing the massive mass that is the grade 2 curse trying to consume Sasaki and the eye and before he could act, a fire extinguisher flies past Reggie as it hits the curse in the "face" staggering it as Mahito ran past climbing the curse as he wrenched Sasaki free from its grasp as he jumps of the wall as he slides into an adjacent empty hallway as Reggie recreating a receipts of gasoline and matches as he lits the curse on fire as he recreated a sword cursed tool to hack it to pieces.

After clearing the hallway of curses (and the sprinklers having triggered due to the brief fire) Reggie was surprised by Mahito's stubbornness and ingenuity as he checked on Mahito after scolding him on his recklessness though Mahito assures his as he made sure to take Takeshi out of the compound before rushing to them, checking Sasaki for any injuries and applying aid, he was about to hand over the eye to Reggie though they were interrupted by a grade 1 curse (the one Reggie had seen a few hours earlier) erupts from below them sending Reggie, Mahito and the curse up wards unto the school's roof Reggie was able to shield himself by wrapping both of them with a Recreated Kevlar sheet as they landed Reggie realised he only had one receipt which wasn't drenched by water as he recreated a special grade cursed tool "Playful Cloud" (*Playful Cloud is a three-section staff connected by three rings between the joints of the weapon. Each staff is decorated with a flame-like pattern near the ends by the metal which connects to the chains.

Playful Cloud is the only special grade cursed tool that is not imbued with a cursed technique. Instead, its strength relies on the raw power of its user. Playful Cloud has been best utilized by those with incredible physical abilities rather than those with high levels of cursed energy.

Playful Cloud amplifies the user's strength with its cursed energy, allowing even those with little to no cursed energy to overpower special grade cursed spirits.*)

As he attacks the curse and though his attacks are critical they are few and far between as the curse proves to be far more agile and evasive than excepted as the curse redirected its attention towards Mahito (due to him having the cursed eye in his hand) as the curse swats Reggie into the Roof Bulkhead wounding him as the curse lunges at Mahito who ducks and tries to evade the curse but it grabs him forcing him to fight the curse barehanded but can't deal any real damage since he lacks cursed energy. As the curse holds Mahito in the air, threatening to crush him, Mahito remembers his grandmother's words about helping others. as the injured Reggie tells Mahito that fighting is futile as he doesn't have curse energy and telling him to chuck the eye away as that is what the curse spirit is after, though Mahito while being squeezed he though on how if the curse is after the eye so he makes a gamble as there is a possibility for him to gain curse energy by consuming the eye to Reggie horror Mahito does just that as he eats the azure eye, though he convulses . As the curse tried to swallow Mahito whole, but in a sudden flare of cursed energy Mahito gets free from the curse's grasp and swats it instantly exorcising it as Reggie looks on trying to get to his feet he sees the markings all over Mahito as his eyes shine blue with 2 additional pairs being formed beneath and above his original pair as in manic laughter the Satoru possessed Mahito, thrilled by the sensation of having a physical body again, he rips off the hoodie Mahito was wearing, tearing at his own skin/chest in an ecstatic frenzy of reawakening, he leaps up onto the school's rooftop railing, looking out over the city lights of Sendai. As he exclaims in pure ecstasy: "Aha... Ahahaha! Oh, wow! It’s real! The air, the light, the sheer volume of it all! A cursed spirit’s prison doesn't hold a candle to the absolute high of the flesh!

Look at this world! Look at all these dense, tightly packed little sheep just waiting to be sorted! The information... it's beautiful! It's endless! What a magnificent, bloated era I've been born back into! Modern sorcerers, modern civilians... they're practically spawning like insects!

Exceptional! Truly exceptional! I'm going to turn this entire age inside out!"

Rikugan-no-Satoru, the strongest of the Heian era, the Buddha born from Hell had just been reborn in the modern era and he couldn't wait to unleash his mad dogmas though before he could do anything and before the barely standing Reggie could even try to sacrifice himself to fight him, the markings disappeared as Mahito regained control

Just as he raises a hand, his fingers starting to cross into on each other, to unleash a blast to destroy the surrounding area, the manic grin suddenly freezes on his face.

The blue eyes blink in confusion. Slowly, against his will, his left hand rises up, wrapping its fingers firmly around his own throat, choking out the laughter. Mahito’s original, sharp, analytical mind—spurred by the dying promise to his grandmother to live to the absolute limit and protect those he cares about—wrenches itself forward.

Leaving Reggie staring in utter horror at the four-eyed, blue-eyed teen who had just casually suppressed the greatest calamity of the Heian era.

Once Mahito suppressed Satoru, he walked towards the bleeding and injured Reggie, completely clueless about what just happened. Reggie, bound by Jujutsu regulations, had to make a grim, terrifying choice. Even though Mahito was conscious, he was now technically a Cursed Object. As Reggie sighs in reluctant acceptance as he steels himself pointing his cursed tool as Mahito as he declares: "Under Jujutsu regulations, Soma Mahito.... as a curse, I will exorcise you!"
Reggie pointing his weapon at him ready to fight Mahito who tensed up and squared up in defense as they were interrupted by the arrival of the strongest sorcerer of the current era Sukuna Itadori appearing between the two, having arrived just as Reggie gave his execution speech as he asked him about the status of the mission as Reggie despite the pain snapped to attention reporting all the events that had gone down since the previous day and though Sukuna commends him for his focus, recognisance and ingenuity he did scold him on his lack of containment as Reggie hadn't placed the curtain to hide the battle from any outside. Sukuna didn't treat the situation like a crisis at all. He revealed he initially wasn't going to show up, but came because the higher-ups were making a fuss about the missing Special Grade Eye, as he brought a receipt bundle for a first aid kit, 2 week stay at a 5 star hotel with spa and hot spring which he gave to Reggie to burn so he could heal himself "Burn those, Reggie. Go wash the grime off your face," while he steps forward, his massive frame easily eclipsing the moonlight hitting the shattered roof bulkhead. approached Mahito asking "As for you... Soma, was it? Give me ten seconds with the old man."

Mahito, still processing the phantom sensation of an infinite ocean of information drilling into his brain, blinks his vibrant, glowing azure eyes. He looks at his hands, then up at the legendary Sukuna Itadori. A reckless, sharp grin cuts across Mahito's face.

"Ten seconds? Sure. But if he breaks anything, you're paying for it."

Mahito closes his eyes. He doesn't struggle; he simply steps aside in his own mind, dropping the latch. The air temperature on the rooftop drops instantly, not from ice, but from the sudden, suffocating pressure of a localized vacuum. The extra two pairs of eyes snap open, burning with a sickly, brilliant blue. The Satoru-possessed Mahito throws his head back, his grey hair whipping wildly as he fixes his gaze on Sukuna.

"Well, well, well," Satoru purrs, his voice a melodic, mocking sing-song. "Look what the modern era dragged out of the dirt. The twin who survived. You look heavy, Weakling." Before the sentence even fully registers in the air, Satoru is gone. He doesn't run; he pre-processes the space between them, eliminating the distance entirely. He appears a millimetre from Sukuna’s face, his hand already curved into a striking palm aimed straight at Sukuna's jaw. Sukuna’s reflexes are instinctive, honed by a life spent as the world's balancing weight. He doesn't try to dodge. His right hand flashes upward as with a mere flare up of curse energy he sent Satoru flying into the rooftop fence as the Satoru leaped from the fence glaring at Sukuna as he rushed around the rooftop but Sukuna stepped forward as another wave of curse energy sent Satoru flying and as Sukuna began to retaliate Satoru dissipated as Mahito took back control though the immediate fatigue brought about by the six eyes and the sheer physical and mental toll of hosting the Hellish Buddha catches up to him instantly, as he staggers Sukuna steps right up to Mahito, casually taps him on the forehead, and checks his pulse and eyes. He confirms that Satoru is entirely suppressed and locked away.

After Mahito takes control back from Satoru, the sheer physical and mental toll of hosting the Hellish Buddha catches up to him instantly. Sukuna steps right up to Mahito, casually taps him on the forehead, and checks his pulse and eyes. He confirms that Satoru is entirely suppressed and locked away. To ensure Mahito doesn't accidentally let Satoru slip back out while they are traveling, Sukuna uses a simple, precise cursed energy strike to knock Yuji unconscious. Mahito collapses forward, and Sukuna catches him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Sukuna tells a newly refreshed Reggie to head to the hospital, while he personally takes Mahito straight to a secure underground jujutsu facility to keep him hidden from the conservative higher-ups who want him dead immediately. Mahito wakes up tied to a chair in a dark, eerie room completely covered in protective, high-grade sealing talismans taking us back to the present (*End of Flashback*). After Mahito takes control back from Satoru, the sheer physical and mental toll of hosting the Hellish Buddha catches up to him instantly. Sukuna steps right up to Mahito, casually taps him on the forehead, and checks his pulse and eyes. He confirms that Satoru is entirely suppressed and locked away. To ensure Mahito doesn't accidentally let Satoru slip back out while they are traveling, Sukuna uses a simple, precise cursed energy strike to knock Mahito unconscious. Mahito collapses forward, and Sukuna catches him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Sukuna tells a newly refreshed Reggie to head to the hospital, while he personally takes Mahito straight to a secure underground jujutsu facility to keep him hidden from the conservative higher-ups who want him dead immediately. Mahito wakes up tied to a chair in a dark, eerie room completely covered in protective, high-grade sealing talismans taking us back to the present (*End of Flashback*). As Mahito loudly complains of the "customer service," Sukuna steps in as he sternly scolds Mahito as he sighs as Mahito interrupts him shedding his usual childish nature into an intense knowing look as Mahito guesses that whatever higher-ups Sukuna works for likely want to execute him, to which after a brief moment of assessment, Sukuna says that that's about half of their verdict as they actually have given him a choice, either get executed now or work for Jujutsu Society collecting and ingesting the remnants of Rikugan-no-Satoru and then be executed.

Mahito (groaning, testing the ropes): "Man, talk about a terrible way to treat a guest! The lighting is depressing, these ropes are itching, and I'm pretty sure whoever tied this knot didn't pass basic boy scouts. Zero stars on Yelp, old man. I want a refund on my evening."

Sukuna: "Shut your mouth, brat. You're sitting in a room saturated with ancient talismans specifically designed to keep that six-eyed monster from tearing through your skull. If it weren't for me standing here, the vultures up top would have turned you into a puddle of grease before you even opened your eyes."

Mahito (eyebrows raised, eyes narrowing into a sharp, clinical focus): "Vultures... Right. The 'Higher-Ups' you mentioned on the roof. Let me guess: a bunch of old, paranoid traditionalists sitting in a dark room somewhere, sweating through their robes because a kid from a third-rate high school accidentally swallowed a piece of their worst nightmare. They want me dead, don't they? Sliced up, burned to ash, and buried in an unmarked grave."

Sukuna (grinning faintly, leaning against the doorframe): "Heh. You're sharper than you look. But you're only half right. The cowards are terrified, yes, but they're also desperate. They've handed down a secret suspension. A choice, Soma."

Mahito: "A choice? Don't tell me they want to negotiate."

Sukuna: "Option A: We execute you right now. I peel Satoru's eye back out of your throat, and you die a normal, pathetic human death. Option B: You join Jujutsu Society as a dog on a leash. There are nineteen more remnants of Satoru Sugawara scattered across Japan—pickled jars, sealed bones, cursed relics. You hunt them down, you swallow every last one of them, act as a garbage can for his poison, and then we execute you. The disaster dies when you die."

Mahito pondering the futility of it as the outcome is the same regardless he cheekily accepts his execution but only after joining Jujutsu Society as he is officially registered as a Jujutsu Sorcerer as he is enrolled into Tokyo Jujutsu High though Sukuna doesn't sugar-coat it, as he makes it clear he is a dead man walking and he wont go easy on him just because he's a kid to which Mahito coyly retorts with childish complaints and unyielding excitement and intrigue as Sukuna takes him to meet with Principal Dhruv Lakdawalla, on the way there/as they walk Sukuna does glance at Mahito (who is in amused child like awe as he observes their surroundings and the hallways they pass through mentally wondering what kind of kid this is as despite his boisterous lazy and childish coyness there is a sharp and attentive calculation beneath it. )

Mahito (laughing softly, tapping his feet against the floor): "Wow. So my options are 'die today' or 'die after an exhausting scavenger hunt.' It's a total scam. But hey... if I choose Option B, do I get a cool uniform? Because if I'm going to be a dead man walking, I at least want to look stylish while doing it. Sign me up for the hunt, bossman." (*Narrator: A grand shift, born from a desperate gamble. The analytical mind of Mahito Soma did not see a death sentence; he saw a loophole. A chance to live his life to the absolute limit, bound to a fate far larger than his own.*)

Sukuna (as they walk the dark wooden corridors of Tokyo High): "Don't get cocky, kid. Let's make one thing perfectly clear: you are a corpse on borrowed time. Jujutsu Society isn't a playground for clever teenagers. It's a meat grinder built on a foundation of human filth. Non-sorcerers leak negative emotions—fear, hatred, regret—like a open wound. That sludge pools together and creates Curses. Our job as sorcerers isn't heroic; it's custodial. We clean up the rot. And if you slack off, or if that six-eyed freak takes over your hands for even a fraction of a second... I will skewer you myself without hesitating."

Mahito (stretching his arms, a brilliant azure spark flashing briefly in his eyes): "Got it, got it! Less talking, more slaying, high stakes, and a scary teacher who wants to turn me into a shish kebab. Honestly? This beats sitting through another afternoon of STEM class debate tournaments by a landslide. Lead the way, Sukuna. Let's go see the principal!"

The sliding paper doors of the hidden courtyard shivered, not from the wind, but from the massive, rhythmic weight of the elderly man seated inside. Principal Dhruv Lakdawalla did not look like a traditional administrative head; he looked like a living relic of an era when sorcerers had to hold boundaries with their bare hands. Surrounding him were several small, animalistic wooden puppets, hovering silently on invisible threads of cursed energy.

Sukuna slid the door open, pushing Mahito forward into the incense-laden air.

Sukuna: "Principal. This is the brat. Mahito Soma. He’s the one who decided a thousand-year-old eye looked like a midnight snack."

Dhruv (his voice deep, resonant, vibrating through the floorboards): "I see. Satoru Sugawara’s azure eye... swallowed by a child who smells of cheap convenience store snacks and fresh hospice lint. Step forward, boy."

Mahito (coquettishly scratching his neck, his mismatched eyes darting across the floating puppets): "Wow, tough crowd. Look, if this is the part where you ask me what my life’s philosophy is before you decide to execute me, can we skip to the part where I get a uniform? The draft in these old halls is killer."

Dhruv: "You speak lightly of death, yet you carry the absolute apex of Heian-era malice behind your teeth. Tell me, Mahito Soma... why do you wish to live another day if the end of your road is already carved in stone?"

Mahito (his posture shifting instantly, dropping the lazy slouch as his gaze goes dead, calculating): "Because I made a promise. My grandmother told me to stop hiding behind jokes, to wear my soul on my sleeve, and to live this life to the absolute limit. Dying in a dark basement today because some old men are scared? That’s not a limit. That’s a punctuation mark. I want to see how far this twisted world actually goes before it snaps."

Dhruv stared at him for three long seconds. One of the wooden puppets chirped, dropping onto Mahito's shoulder. Mahito didn't flinch; he just poked its wooden beak with a grin.

Dhruv: "A stubborn soul. Very well. Sukuna, take him to the courtyard. If he cannot handle the weight of his own fuel by sunrise, break him."

Unlike traditional training, Sukuna did not offer a textbook. He offered a fist. In the wide, stone-paved courtyard behind Tokyo High, Sukuna stood with his hands in his pockets, his heavy frame casting a long shadow under the noon sun.

[*1. Cursed Energy (CE) ──► Raw negative emotional fuel. 2. CE Control & Efficiency ──► Eliminating lag and leak. 3. CE Output vs. Technique ──► The physical force vs. the Innate Rule manifestation.*]

Sukuna: "Listen up, brat. Since you’ve got zero background, I'm only explaining this once. Cursed Energy is raw fuel—it’s the negative sludge generated by human stress, fear, and malice. Most humans leak it like water through a sieve, which is how Curses are born. Sorcerers channel it through a clean pipe. But having fuel is useless if your engine is garbage."

Mahito: "So I'm an engine. Got it. How do I start the car?"

Sukuna: "You don't just 'start' it. You regulate it. Cursed Energy Control means keeping the flow constant. Most rookie sorcerers let their energy lag behind their physical movements. They punch, and the energy follows a split second later because their emotions flare up too late. That lag will get you killed. You need Cursed Energy Efficiency—minimizing the leak so that every ounce of emotion is converted directly into combat reinforcement without spilling a drop."

Sukuna (continuing): "For a novice, predicting the next move of an experienced sorcerer is mathematically impossible. Why? Because masters maintain a perfectly uniform, steady coating of cursed energy across their entire body at all times. There is no shift in weight, no sudden surge in an arm to tip off a punch. It’s a flawless, unreadable shell."

Mahito (squinting, watching the subtle hum of invisible force around Sukuna): "Huh... that's weird. You say it's unreadable, but I can sort of see it. When you're standing there, right before you move, there’s an influx of energy right around your solar plexus. It sparks an instant before your foot even twitches. It’s like a blueprint of what you're about to do written in blue light. The 'shell' doesn't hide that spark at all."

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed into sharp, lethal slits. He stepped closer, his heavy presence suddenly grinding the air to a halt. Sukuna (internally): He can see the flow? No... he can see the spark before the technique even manifests. That’s not standard sensing. Because he’s hosting Satoru’s eye, his brain is processing the structural information of cursed energy passively. A pseudo-Six Eyes... even without his own Innate Technique active, he’s reading the calculus of the spark. The uniform coating is entirely transparent to him.

Sukuna (aloud): "Don't get ahead of yourself. Seeing the flow doesn't mean you can match it. Let me show you the difference between Cursed Energy Output and an Innate Technique."

Sukuna raised a single hand. First, a dense, turbulent shroud of raw, crackling blue aura wrapped violently around his fist. He punched the air, and the sheer atmospheric pressure alone shattered a thick stone pillar twenty feet away.

Sukuna: "That is raw output. Just blunt, reinforced physical force. Now, watch this."

Sukuna dropped his hand, pointing a single finger at a second stone pillar. There was no massive flare of energy, no dramatic aura. Instead, a microscopic, hyper-compressed flash sparked at the very tip of his finger—the spark of activation—and instantly, the second pillar was cleanly diced into half a dozen perfect, silent geometric blocks. Sukuna: "That is an Innate Technique. My Shrine. It takes that raw fuel and runs it through a highly specific, predetermined mathematical formula engraved into my brain from birth. Right now, you don't have a technique. You’re just a blunt instrument."

Mahito (slumping his shoulders, looking genuinely bummed out as he stared at the sliced stone): "Man... seriously? So I just get to punch stuff while everyone else gets cool laser beams and invisible swords? How do I get one of those formulas?"

Sukuna (laughing dryly, a cold, mocking sound): "You don't. Innate techniques are strictly genetic, brat. They comprise about eighty percent of a sorcerer's total talent. It's a literal configuration of the human brain. You're born with it, or you aren't. Buying one, learning one, or wishing for one is entirely impossible. For now, you need to learn Cursed Energy Tracing and Repression—how to hide your own presence so you aren't a walking neon sign to every Curse within five miles."

To train this, Sukuna didn't use a doll. He used himself. For forty-eight straight hours, Mahito was forced to maintain a steady, unblinking stream of cursed energy while Sukuna threw rocks, debris, and low-level cursed insects at his face. If Mahito’s energy flickered because he got distracted, the rock hit home. By the end of the second day, Mahito wasn't just maintaining the flow; he was unconsciously wrapping it around his skin like a second, fluid layer of clothing, his sharp analytical mind decoding the rhythm of his own pulse. Meanwhile, across the Tokyo metropolis, Reggie Hagane had been busy. Clad in his loose ponytail and hidden-receipt uniform, he had been conducting aggressive reconnaissance on rogue curse users.

Narrator: Contractual Re-Creation. A technique of absolute utility. By neutralizing rogue curse users and taking custody of their illegal cursed weapons under official records, Reggie didn't just clean the streets—he turned their assets into legal receipts, binding their power directly into his personal arsenal for future consumption.

By the time the trio reunited in the high-end business and fashion district of Harajuku, Reggie looked slightly bruised but thoroughly satisfied, patting a pocket stuffed with fresh, stamped receipts from the Jujutsu warehouse records.

Sukuna stood by the glass storefront of a trendy boutique, leaning against a railing as Mahito—now dressed in a slightly customized, dark Tokyo High uniform—was busy staring at a crepe stand with childlike wonder.

Reggie: "Reports are filed, Sukuna. Got three grade-3 tools logged into the inventory and converted to receipts. The higher-ups are pleased, though they're still whining about the property damage in Shinjuku."

Sukuna: "Let them whine. Where’s the third member?"

A sharp, clicking sound echoed from the sidewalk. Walking toward them was a girl with an intensely aloof, almost dizzy expression. Her hair was perfectly styled, but her eyes looked completely checked out, as if she were listening to music only she could hear. In her right hand, she casually swung a long object completely wrapped in white cloth, resembling a standard kendo training sword.

This was Haruta Keifu. (*Haruta Keifu'S immediate view if them:

[Reggie Hagane] ───► "Ugh. Looks like one of those tacky American TV scammers who tries to sell you insurance." [Mahito Soma] ───► "A literal scarecrow. Look at those weird stitch marks and mismatched eyes. Did someone sew him together from old rags?" *)

Haruta (stopping in front of them, blowing a bubble of gum and letting it pop): "So... these are the partners I get? A guy who wears paper receipts like currency and a kid who looks like an antique doll found in a flooded basement. Great. Super great. My year is officially ruined."

Mahito (leaning in, his four eyes briefly overlapping in a dizzying illusion before settling back to two): "Hey! I'm very aerodynamic, thank you very much. And that sword looks heavy for someone who looks like they might tip over if a strong breeze hits."

Haruta (pouting, gripping the wrapped hand-sword tighter): "It’s not a kendo stick, you weirdo. It’s... well, you’ll see if you don't get eaten first."

Sukuna (stepping between them, his towering frame instantly shutting down the bickering): "Enough chatter. The synergy between you three is non-existent, and I'm not tracking your bodies if you fail to coordinate. We’re heading to the outskirts of Roppongi. There’s an abandoned housing block infested with a swarm ranging from Grade 4 to Semi-Grade 2. Consider this your dynamic placement exam."

The abandoned apartment complex in Roppongi was a hollowed-out concrete shell, smelling of damp mold and stagnant dread. The moment the heavy curtain was dropped by the auxiliary managers, the sky turned a dark, bruised purple, and the low, multi-toned clicking of multiple cursed spirits echoed from the broken windows.

Sukuna (standing at the entrance, arms crossed): "The rules are simple. Clear the block. Haruta, you’re on point. Reggie, support. Mahito... don't let the old man out of his box unless you want me to put you down permanently. Move."

Narrator: The test of the modern age. Three distinct anomalies—a boy with a monster in his eyes, a modern merchant of absolute contracts, and a girl whose luck defied the standard laws of cause and effect—stepping into the dark meat grinder of jujutsu.

Mahito cracked his knuckles, a terrifyingly sharp, analytical grin breaking through his lazy demeanor as his blue eyes began to track the invisible rivers of cursed energy flowing through the walls above them.

Mahito: "Alright, team. Let's see who turns into dust first!"

The heavy black curtain dropped by the auxiliary managers cast the abandoned Roppongi housing block into a dark, bruised purple twilight. Outside the main threshold, Sukuna stood with his arms crossed over his heavy frame, leaning against the hood of an administrative vehicle. Beside him, Reggie Hagane leaned casually against a concrete pillar, eyes fixed on the entrance.

Reggie: "You're really not going in? If the scarecrow or the dizzy girl drops dead, the higher-ups are going to chew us out for a bad performance review."

Sukuna: "Let them chew. If they die in a low-grade swarm like this, they’re useless meat anyway. Besides... I want to see how the brat covers for his lack of a formula. Watching a sorcerer scramble without an innate technique is always a dark comedy."

Inside, the concrete corridors groaned with the weight of dozens of small, multi-eyed entities. Haruta Keifu led the way, lazily swinging her wrapped sword as if she were walking through a sunny park rather than a nest of Grade 4 and Semi-Grade 2 curses. Suddenly, a grotesque, multi-limbed curse erupted from a doorway, its jaw unhinging to snap at Haruta’s neck. Haruta didn't even look up. She casually tripped over a loose piece of rebar, dropping her gum wrapper. By absolute coincidence, the curse's lunge missed her by a millimeter, its teeth scraping uselessly against the concrete wall.

Haruta (giggling as she swung her sword blindly backward): "Oopsie! Wow, totally missed me. You're super slow, mister!"

Narrator: Miracle. Haruta Keifu’s innate technique operates on the unconscious consumption of minor daily lucky breaks. By erasing small mishaps from her life and storing them as "miracles"—tracked by the markings beneath her eyes—she can survive fatal encounters through pure, unearned coincidence. Her weapon, a semi-sentient hand-sword adorned with a literal human hand as its hilt, moves almost entirely on its own accord to correct her terrible posture.

As Haruta's sword flexed its wooden fingers and sliced a minor curse away, a massive, Semi-Grade 2 entity materialized from the ceiling directly above her, its dense mass threatening to crush her completely.

"Voom"

Mahito Soma blurred past her. He didn't have an innate technique, but his blue eyes—passively processing the structural information of cursed energy through Satoru's eye—read the trajectory of the entity perfectly.

Mahito (internally): No formula? No problem. Sukuna said cursed energy is just raw fuel. If I can't turn it into a specific rule, I'll just change the shape of the fuel itself before it exits the pipeline.

Mahito slammed his palm against the floorboards. Instead of a standard reinforced punch, he flooded his cursed energy directly into the loose structural rebar and shattered concrete beneath his feet. The concrete violently erupted upward. Transformed by his sheer talent for Object Infusion and Cursed Energy Shaping, the raw energy hardened into momentary, rigid spikes of dense blue force, impaling the Semi-Grade 2 curse through its central core. Before the spirit could dissipate, Mahito flicked his wrist, executing a jagged slash of compressed aura that cleanly bisected three smaller curses flanking the hallway.

Haruta (stopping to look back, her lower lip pouted): "Whoa, flashy. You’re like a human porcupine. Still, you look totally ridiculous doing it."

Mahito (grinning widely, his mismatched eyes flashing as the blue spark settled around his knuckles): "Hey, as long as it kills things, right? Let's clean up the rest of these garbage piles before the old man outside gets bored and decides to blow up the building."

Following the absolute clearance of the Roppongi housing block, a quiet month of institutional routine settled over the Tokyo campus. For Mahito, the reprieve from immediate execution was an opportunity to tie up the loose ends of his sudden transition into the jujutsu world. On a rainy Tuesday evening during their designated off-hours, Mahito slipped out of the high school perimeter, using his newly mastered Cursed Energy Repression to completely mute his presence from the school’s auxiliary detection nets. He traveled back to his old neighborhood in Kawasaki, standing under an umbrella across the street from a brightly lit family restaurant. Through the rain-streaked glass, he watched his former schoolmates, Sasaki and Takeshi. They were sitting at a corner booth, laughing over a shared plate of fries, completely healthy, the lingering trauma of their past encounter with curses completely faded.

Mahito (staring quietly, a rare, soft smile touching his stitched face): They look good. Looks like the cover story worked.

Reggie Hagane had handled the administrative logistics flawlessly. Through official Jujutsu High channels and civilian communication nets, an official "relocation notice" had been sent out, stating that both Mahito Soma and his distant relative, Reggie, had been suddenly selected for an overseas academic program due to exceptional family circumstances. To the mundane world, Mahito had simply moved away to a better life.

Mahito (turning back into the shadows of the alleyway): "Live a long life, you guys. Don't go looking into dark corners."

Part 2.

To Be Continued