*Ugh… "I feel so weak, am I dead?" I muttered, forcing my eyes open. The ceiling was unfamiliar, but the scent was unmistakable. "This place smells like Sayo…" I murmured, a sense of peace washing over me as I let my eyes drift shut again.
"Because it's my room, dah!" Her voice, sharp and far too close, startled me. I instinctively pulled the thick, warm blanket up to my chin.
"What are you doing here with such clothes on? We're not in a relationship!" I said, my voice hoarse. I needed to shut this down before it started.
"Chill, dude," she said, her voice a lazy, teasing drawl from my right. "We're friends… with benefits~"
I sighed, the sound full of exhaustion. "You are a piece of work. Anyway, how long was I out for?" I asked, dismissing whatever was running through her head.
"Two days," she said, her tone shifting slightly. "I had a question for you. A personal one." Two days. I really had pushed myself past the brink.
"No." The denial was instant, automatic.
"Ass or E-cup tits?" she asked, completely shameless. I choked on my own saliva, a coughing fit wracking my weak body. Through my watering eyes, I saw her rise from a chair.
She was wearing a black, see-through nightgown that did little to hide her curvy figure. Her expression was a potent mix of temptation and challenge. Tifa's training, however, was ironclad. I'd learned to resist arts far more potent than simple seduction.
"I'm not interested, right now," I said, my voice flat. "Moreover, I'm so hungry I can eat a horse. Can you please arrange as much food as possible?" My stomach chose that moment to let out a deafening roar. *GROWWWWLL.*
Sayo's confident smirk faltered, replaced by a pout. "Fine! But you have to go on a date with me," she demanded, a clear condition.
"I will be taking an interest," she declared, leaning down and pulling me into a surprisingly gentle hug. Her warmth was a stark contrast to the cold weakness in my limbs. "I was afraid after you passed out," she whispered, her hand resting on my cheek. "I know in our line of work, death is certain. But I want to feel a connection with you. My family is against it, and I don't give a fuck about them as they never treated me as an equal to Satoru."
"My food," I spoke, my voice a blank monotone. I was fading fast.
"I messaged Satoru. Wait five minutes." I had no more energy to argue. I just lay there, a prisoner in her bed, waiting for sustenance.
"How about till then," she suggested, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes, "I tease you with the best of my ability to see if you can truly resist?"
"No, let's just cuddle," I responded. I didn't have an ounce of energy to waste on her games.
"Like lovers?" she asked, her voice filled with high hopes as she settled beside me, pulling the blanket over us both. Our bodies connected, and in the quiet, I could hear the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against my back.
"No," I said softly. "More than friends, less than lovers."
She became silent for a long moment, processing my words. "…Are you a one-woman man?" she finally asked. "Jujutsu sorcerers aren't, in general." I cursed Satoru for being late.
"The same goes for me," I admitted, deciding the truth was the only way out of this. "I already have more than two girls."
"What!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of shock and betrayal.
"Yup. And I promised to marry them." I dropped the second bomb, hoping it would be enough to shatter her obsession.
"You're a playboy."
"You hate me now?"
"No," she said, her voice suddenly fierce. "I still want to pursue you and steal you from them. What kind of woman would I be if I can't fight for my love?"
"I love them," I said, my voice firm, leaving no room for interpretation. "I have no one in my life apart from them."
"I…" She was speechless.
"Great Satoru is here with food!" He announced, seeing a flash of white and black through the doorway.
***
Few minutes later,
I was demolishing a plate piled high with food. "Dude, chill, the food's not going anywhere," Satoru said, watching me with amusement.
"I'm starving," I grunted between bites.
"You've eaten 4kg of rations already. The butler is preparing 5kg more," he noted, impressed. "Anyway, about your curse technique, mind telling me about it now? And why is my sister so lovey-dovey with you?"
I swallowed a mouthful of rice, chicken and noodles. "Well, my curse technique is Refinement. And its reveal should be the opposite of what you'd expect. As for your sister… you need to ask her that yourself. She's a person of her own."
Satoru's playful expression vanished, replaced by a look of intense focus. The clinking of my fork against the plate seemed to grow louder in the sudden quiet. He leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his entire being zeroed in on me.
"Refinement," he repeated, the word rolling off his tongue as if he were tasting it. "That's… not a combat-oriented technique. Not on the surface, anyway. It sounds more like a crafting technique. Something for a tool-maker, not a front-line fighter."
"It can be," I said, taking a slower bite this time. The food was replenishing more than just my energy; it was sharpening my mind. "But that's the surface. The reveal is the opposite, remember?"
He was silent for a moment, his mind clearly working through the possibilities. The Six Eyes were probably running a million simulations a second. "So you take something… and you refine it. You make it more… *itself*. You make a sword sharper, a shield stronger. But the opposite reveal… does that mean you can also make things *less* themselves? Dull a blade? Weaken a curse?"
I nodded, impressed. "You're getting warmer. But it's not just about objects. It's about concepts."
That made him pause. "Concepts?"
"Imagine a curse," I explained, setting my fork down. "Its very nature is to be a curse. It's born from negative emotions, its purpose is to harm. My technique doesn't just exorcise it. It can *refine* the very concept of what it is, stripping away the 'curse' part until only the raw, neutral energy is left. Or…" I let the word hang in the air.
"Or you can refine and amplify things," Satoru finished, his eyes widening with dawning comprehension. "You can take a curse and make it *more* of a curse. Amplify its negative nature until it collapses under its own malice."
"Exactly," I confirmed. "It's not about overwhelming power. It's about surgical precision. It's about finding the core of something and either perfecting it or destroying it from the inside out. That's why I could counter your technique. I didn't break it from the outside; I started to deny the very concept of the space you were creating, causing it to unravel."
Satoru leaned back in his chair, a slow, genuine smile spreading across his face. It wasn't his usual smug grin; this was one of pure, unadulterated intellectual thrill. "That's terrifying," he said, his voice filled with awe.
"And absolutely brilliant. It's a counter to everything. A technique that fights logic with logic."
He was quiet for another moment, processing. Then his gaze shifted, becoming more personal, more analytical. "Which brings me back to my sister. You're not just a walking anomaly with a unique technique. You're a man who can unravel the very fabric of a curse, and you've got my sister looking at you like you're the only person in the room who matters. She's the Gojo clan's hidden treasure, Isshin. They keep her locked away, treated like a fragile heirloom because her technique is powerful but unstable. She's never been allowed to just *be*."
He looked me straight in the eye, his Six Eyes seeming to pierce right through to my soul. "So I'll ask you again. What are your intentions with her? Because you don't strike me as a man who does things by accident. You didn't just stumble into her good graces. You're either the best thing that's ever happened to her, or you're the most dangerous thing she's ever going to meet. And I need to know which one it is."