First person,
The dust, thick and acrid, was still settling as I leaned against a mangled pachinko machine, my lungs burning with every ragged breath. The gaping hole in the back wall was a perfect frame for the dark, starry night, a violent contrast to the chaos that had just unfolded.
Geto sighed, nudging a piece of broken concrete with his shoe. "Well, that's one way to redecorate. Satoru, you could have just exorcised it."
"And let them have all the fun?" Satoru retorted, his usual playful tone back in full force. "Not a chance."
It was Sayo who approached me first, her earlier exhaustion replaced by a vibrant, almost feverish energy. She wiped a smear of dust from her cheek, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and excitement. "I'm surprised by your development," she said, her voice low and intense. "What is your curse technique? That... that nullification. I've never seen anything like it."
It was a stark contrast to her usual guarded demeanor. Back there, when we were fighting for our lives, she hadn't had the luxury of astonishment. Now, in the aftermath, her professional mask had slipped, revealing the keen mind of a sorcerer hungry for knowledge.
I offered a weak smile, pushing myself off the machine.
"No, it's not really a curse technique," I said, trying to downplay it. "It's just to counter people's domains. Anyone with the right training can learn it. I call it the New Shadow Style: V2."
It was a simple technique, really, a modification of a foundational clan art I'd pieced together to give myself an edge against a particularly troublesome opponent back home. Tifa, with her own brand of overwhelming force, had been the perfect test subject.
Before I could say more, Satoru was suddenly in my face, his earlier joking demeanor gone. The air around him crackled with genuine, unadulterated curiosity. He leaned in close, his blindfolded face inches from mine.
"Can you teach me?" The question was so direct, so devoid of his usual sarcasm, that it caught me completely off guard.
The great Satoru Gojo, asking *me* for a lesson. A wave of giddy exhaustion washed over me, and I couldn't help but fool around.
"Bro," I said, letting out a short laugh and clapping him on the shoulder. "You have a literal cheat code called the Six Eyes. You can see the flow of all cursed energy in the world. Do you really need my teaching?"
Satoru just blinked, his head tilting in that bird-like way of his. "It's not the same. I can see it in detail, but you did it once which is not enough so I could replicate. It's interesting tho."
Satoru just blinked, his head tilting in that bird-like way of his. "It's not the same. I can see it in detail, but you did it once which is not enough so I could replicate. It's interesting tho." He turned to his sister, a sly grin spreading across his face. "You told him about the Six Eyes, sis?"
Sayo, who had been watching our exchange with a look of fond exasperation, suddenly froze. Her eyes widened in a flash of panic. "...Yes," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "Not a big deal... is it?"
Seeing the development, Satoru shrugged off his sister's worry and insisted, "So, are we doing this? A little trade of secrets?" His focus was back on me, and I knew he wouldn't let it go.
I sighed, the exhaustion making me blunt. "Fine. But I want something in return. I'm interested in reversal techniques. I want to understand the phenomenon and learn how to replicate it with my own technique."
Satoru let out a loud, mocking laugh. "Hah! You can't learn reversal. You need to learn curse energy reversal first, and that's a whole other ball game, buddy. That's advanced stuff."
His condescending tone only made me more stubborn. I straightened up, meeting his unseen gaze head-on. "I don't need to learn your way. I just need to understand the principles. I'll figure out the rest. That's my condition. Take it or leave it."
The playful energy vanished again, replaced by a sharp, assessing silence. He was analyzing me, weighing my stubbornness against his curiosity. Finally, he shrugged.
"Alright, sensei," he said, giving me a mock bow. "I'll hold you to our deal. And don't worry about Principal Yaga. I'll spin a good yarn. Something about a rogue curse and a brave, mysterious stranger who saved the day."
"Fair enough," I agreed.
With a final, jaunty wave over his shoulder, Satoru and Sayo disappeared down the street, leaving me alone in the ruins of the pachinko parlor. I stood there for a long moment, the weight of the bargain I'd just made settling heavily on my shoulders. I had just agreed to trade secrets with the most powerful sorcerer alive. What could possibly go wrong?
I took a taxi home. I let myself into the house, the click of the lock echoing in the oppressive silence.
The fight replayed in my mind, but it wasn't the chaos or the destruction that stuck with me. It was the look on Satoru's face when he asked me to teach him.
The raw, unfiltered curiosity. It was the same look I'd seen in Tifa's eyes when she was trying to figure out how to break my guard. It was the look of someone who saw a mountain and immediately wanted to climb it.
I stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the shower, the hot water a welcome balm against my aching muscles. Steam filled the small room, fogging the mirror until my reflection was just a vague, ghostly shape. I leaned my forehead against the cool tile of the wall, the water cascading down my back.
"New Shadow Style: V2," I muttered to myself. The name was ridiculous, a spur-of-the-moment invention to sound more impressive than I felt. The technique itself was a gamble, a desperate application of a principle I barely understood. It was a patch, not a solution. And yet, it worked.
It had caught the attention of the one person in this world I probably should have avoided.
Satoru's offer was a double-edged sword. On one hand, learning about reversal techniques from him was an opportunity I couldn't afford to miss. It was the key to turning my simple defensive style into something truly formidable.
On the other hand, getting closer to Satoru Gojo was like standing next to a lightning rod in a thunderstorm. You were bound to get struck.
I shut off the water and stepped out, grabbing a towel. The house felt too big, too empty. The aftermath of the fight had left me with a strange, hollow feeling.
I had survived. I had even impressed them. But I was no closer to understanding why I was here, or how I was supposed to get back. I was just a foreign sorcerer with a half-baked technique, a stubborn desire to learn, and the unwanted attention of the most powerful man in Japan.
I walked into the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, not even bothering to dry off properly. The exhaustion finally claimed me, pulling me down into a deep, dreamless sleep. But even as I drifted off, a single thought echoed in my mind: what had I gotten myself into?
Chapter 8
Afternoon, First person, Gojo training ground
The air in the Gojo clan's training ground was heavy and still, thick with the scent of old bamboo and ozone. It was a place built for power, and I could feel it humming just beneath the surface of the quiet afternoon.
"You're early," Satoru's voice cut through the silence, a smug grin already plastered on his face. "Excited to see the Gojo clan, the strongest sorcerer technique?" He was leaning against a wooden post, arms crossed, radiating his usual prideful, untouchable aura. We were alone.
"So can we start?" I asked, keeping my own tone level. I was eager, yes, but I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of seeing it.
"You show first," he said, pushing off the post. "It'll take me a few seconds and two tries at best to learn it." He was so confident it was almost insulting. With a dramatic flourish, he slipped off his black glasses.
The world shifted. The faint light of the overcast day seemed to concentrate in his eyes, drawing everything in. They weren't just blue; they were like twin nebulae, swirling galaxies of infinite depth and impossible clarity. It felt like he was seeing not just me, but the cursed energy in my veins, the air in my lungs, the very thoughts in my head.
"Those eyes are beautiful," I muttered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
"Stop dude, you're making me blush," he joked, closing the distance in a single step and slinging an arm over my shoulder. He leaned in, forcing me to meet that impossible gaze. "Good, let it go," he added, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
I shrugged his arm off and took a few steps back, needing the space. "Watch carefully."
I fell into the stance, grounding myself. I didn't pour my cursed energy out; I coaxed it, letting it flow from my core and build slowly. The world sharpened, colors becoming more vivid, sounds more distinct. My perception doubled, then tripled. Around me, the air began to warp, shimmering like a heat haze. A semi-domain, a bubble of my own reality, expanded to a three-meter radius. It wasn't a true domain, not a sure-kill technique, but a sanctuary. A space where I was the law.
Thirty seconds passed. Then a minute. Then five. Satoru stood perfectly still, his head tilted. He wasn't just watching; he was consuming. His Six Eyes were a cheat code, dissecting the very fabric of my technique, mapping the flow of energy, the structure of the pseudo-domain. It was like watching a master artisan scan a clay pot to instantly understand the potter's every move.
"That should be enough," he finally said, slipping his glasses back on. The world returned to normal, and the sudden dullness was jarring. He was done. He'd probably been done for the last four minutes.
I halted the technique, the bubble collapsing with a soft sigh. I'd spent a decent chunk of my energy, and a bead of sweat traced a path down my temple. "So, wanna give it a try?" I asked, genuinely curious if he needed more time.
He just grinned. Then, the air around him began to warp. It was identical to mine, a perfect, shimmering bubble of distorted space. He'd done it on his first attempt.
"Damn you filthy cheater," I breathed, a mix of exasperation and genuine awe in my voice. Perhaps he saw the flicker of enthusiasm in my eyes.
"Well, I don't want you to spend all your energy on this," he said, letting his own domain drop. "So you can learn reverse curse energy first, then reverse curse technique."
As if on cue, Sayo's voice came from the edge of the grounds. "Sister, you're late. I already learned New Shadow Style V2."
"Reverse curse energy like this?" I asked, focusing inward. I'd studied the concept for years, a theoretical puzzle. I pushed my cursed energy inward, forcing it to collide with itself, to multiply instead of just flow. A warm, tingling sensation spread through my chest. A small cut on my hand from earlier sealed itself, vanishing without a trace.
"...!!" Satoru's jaw actually dropped. "You know it!" He was in denial.
"How?" Sayo gasped, rushing over. "I haven't even learned it yet!"
"My curse technique gave me some hints," I explained, trying to sound casual. "And by experiencing the same thing for seven or eight years, I learned it."
"Are you for real?" Satoru was in my face again, his excitement palpable. "By learning that now, you can be a Grade 2 sorcerer, easy."
"You're not the only one special, Satoru," I said, a small, tired smile on my face.
"Indeed," he breathed, a genuine, wide grin spreading across his face. "The world is full of surprises." He clapped his hands together. "Now that you know how to use RCE, let's go to step two: Reverse Curse Technique."
"You can do this, Isshin," Sayo whispered, her faith a small anchor in the storm of Satoru's energy.
"Hm," I nodded, my focus entirely on him.
Satoru held up his hand. I watched as he surged his newly positive RCE, channeling it to his fingertips. The energy didn't just flow; it compacted, condensed, and then exploded outward in a blinding, chaotic sphere of pure red. It wasn't an attack; it was a fundamental law of the universe being bent to his will.
"Reverse Curse Technique: Red."
"Keep that for 10 minutes if you can," I challenged, my mind racing.
"Is that a challenge?" he grinned, the red orb pulsing above his palm. "If so, accepted."
"Hm." I ignored him, closing my eyes. I focused on the echo of his technique, the residual energy hanging in the air. I tried to sense the spark, the moment of inversion. "How many times can you turn that on and off?"
"Hm? You want me to do that?" he asked, feigning annoyance. "Four times."
"Do it." I studied the process, the way the energy collapsed and then expanded, the subtle shift from positive to negative and back again. I was analyzing a miracle.
"Man, you are so demanding," he sighed, but he complied. The red orb vanished, then reappeared, four times in quick succession. Each time, I absorbed more data.
"Hahaha, well not everyone is born with the Six Eyes," I retorted, my eyes still closed.
"I think I've got around eighty percent of it," I said, opening my eyes. "Now tell me, how do you *feel* when you activate it? Not what it does, what it feels like."
His grin softened. "Cool. Chaotic, at first. Like holding a star that's trying to tear itself apart. But while maintaining it, it feels like… like holding the reins of a wild horse. You're not commanding it, you're guiding it. It's a constant push and pull, a negotiation between destruction and creation. You have to want to heal, to restore, even as you're gathering the power to obliterate. The intent has to be pure, or the energy just tears itself apart…"
He kept talking, yapping about the details, the nuances, the feel of it. It was exactly what I needed. A cheat sheet from the source code of the universe itself. I listened, committing every word to memory, the pieces of my own puzzle finally starting to click into place.