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 should have done more. I had even impressed them. But I was now I'm closer to understanding why I was here. I was just a foreign sorcerer with a half-baked technique few year ago, 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?