What really couldn't be called a fight, erupted throughout the entire school. Akumu would continue to run, while Arthur chased him as swung his sword around, occasionally destroying a couple walls or random pieces of decorum.
"COME HERE AND FACE ME YOU COWARD!"
"I AM A COWARD! LEAVE ME ALONE!"
And then, just before their one sided battle could even more out of hand, a pair fists collided into both of their skulls. This temporarily put a stop to them, as the irritated voice of Omo Yasei then shouted,
"YOU TWO! MY OFFICE! NOW!"
Later that day the two students were stuck kneeling in his office. The teacher in question was sitting comfortably on his chair behind a desk, but the angry look on his face said otherwise.
"Akumu.. I hope you understand that your a prodigy, and right now everyone in this country has their eyes on you. So when you do stupid things like this, it reflects badly one ME."
'I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING THOUGH!?!!??!??!??!?!?!??!??!?!??!??!?"
Omo then shifted his chair as he turned his attention towards Arthur.
Arthur and Akumu both sigh while nodding at the teacher.
"And then there is you. If anyone got hurt, what the hell was I supposed to tell the royal family in england? That their next king got expelled from a japanese school because he kept bullying people?? Are you forgetting why you're here!?"
Akumu wasn't really familiar with foreign politics, but when he heard 'royal family' and 'next king' in the same sentence, his spin shivered. Well, he did have a very foreign name so he suspected that he was from abroad, but a royal family??
'Lies. No way that doofus could be a king..'
And then he remembered Owari's odd reaction when Arthur announced Akumu as his rival for Yumeno. Even though he harshly objected to Akumu having any chance with her, when it came to Arthur he didn't say anything.
After all, it only made sense for a member of a great clan to marry someone of equal standing.
'He really wasn't joking... Why the hell did he consider me his rival again?? I'm a nobody!'
After a long while of discussing things through and putting an end to the conflict, Arthur had left his office. He was forbidden from carrying his sword around the property, until he could prove he was mature enough for it again. Akumu on the other hand, had to stay for a little while longer..
Omo then asked,
"Do you know about the cursed battle tournament?"
Akumu then replied with intense eagerness,
"Do I know about them!? Of course I know about them!? Who doesn't know about them!??"
After the effects from the Jujutsu war finally settled down somewhat, sports like the olympics and international sports events were allowed to resume. However, those had become dreadfully boring compared to the Jujutsu battles in japan. Sure, other countries implemented their own, but it was like trying to watch a basketball game in england rather than the U.S. It just wasn't the same.
And thus the cursed battle tournaments were created. A world wide tournament that took place every 3 years, where the 4 best Jujutsu wielding countries would compete. Akumu could faintly remember watching it with his parents, and it was one of the things he treasured most.
"Once every 3 years we swap participation rights with the sister school in Kyoto, so this year it's our turn to battle in the tournament. Only 5 students can participate, and even then they have to place 10th or above on the ranked board. Ordinarily, we would just send our top 5 ranked students but, our first-ranked Isshin is still stuck on his mission, our 2nd ranked refused to participate at all, our 3rd ranked Arthur isn't even Japanese so he can't participate, and the 4th is stuck with number 2. It is all very frustrating."
He then sighed as he continued,
"Which is why we need you, Yumeno Gojo, Taori Yumehito, Hikaru Hirotoshi, and Kenji Dojima to act as our school and countries' representatives".
Akumu had dreams of going to the cursed battle tournament himself to watch students fight, but he himself fighting??? He never expected this to happen, but at the same time he was glad.. proud even to know that he was entrusted with such responsibility. It almost brought a tear to his eye.
Then he noticed something strange..
"Whose is Hirotoshi?"
Before Omo could even answer, the door swung open revealing a boy the same age as him. He was around the same height, but his yellow hair was cut in a much shorter fashion, and he had a strange mark on his left cheek that went down to his neck.
"I'm back from Kyoto! Who..."
Omo quickly introduced Akumu to Hikaru, who turned out to be a grade 2 sorcerer and was also 8th ranked in the school.
To find out that Akumu was in the school for a little under 2 months, but was already a semi-grade 2 sorcerer was irritating to say the least. Although it irked him just as much as it did for Yukiko, he acted on it unlike her.
"You me, arena, NOW!"
Akumu looked at Omo for help, but he just said that as long as it was a mock battle then he didn't really care. Hearing his opinion, Hikaru grabbed Akumu by the wrist, and dragged him off to the arena.
**
Hagone returned back to his grandmother's Dojo. Opening the sliding doors, he entered it while carefully shutting it behind him. He then got on his knee's as looked at his grandmothers back who was facing away from him.
She appeared to be staring at a wall litterd in cursed tools.
"How was the mission?"
Hagone sighed,
"It was a failure. I.. stayed back to hold off some curse users with other Jujutsu Sorcerers... but they all died. Even then, I tried to protect the others, and I failed. Every time I've tried to fight back, I accomplished nothing, everytime I tried to protect my friends, I accomplished nothing. I'm.. so sick of it all.. this weakness of mine."
Then, her grandma asked.
"Then what will you do."
What should he do? He did not know. Train and get stronger? How long would that take? He's been training all his life, for as long as he knew. Yes it had gotten him to become a grade 2 sorcerer, but this wasn't enough. Not for him at least. He didn't want to be average, being average wasn't enough, so he had to go for more.
Akumu was a monster. Despite only being a sorcerer for less than 2 months, he had already killed 2 special grade level entities, and had climbed to rank 6 in the school compared to his measly 10.
Hagone was the weakest of the strongest.
'The weakest of the strongest? I won't settle for that. I need more, I need to reach higher.'
And that was when he gained a sudden thirst. A thirst to be the best, and only the best.
"I want to be Number 1."
In that moment, grandma zenin could feel something welling up in Hagone. Something which she had lost a long time ago thanks to the passage of a time. The hunger to get stronger, but Hagone seemed especially thirsty.
Grandma Zenin first smashed her fist into the wall in front of her, before tearing it out and revealing the secret compartment which hid there.
It seemed to be some kind of memorial with 3 swords, and a picture of a family.
The first sword was a thick single edged sword that seemed highly mechanical. Its handguard had several rectangular protrusions, all wrapped in a dry cloth along with the handle while the blade itself had 3 engine holes.
The second sword seemed slightly more normal as it a was a large curved broadsword, with a furry handle giving it a bestial look.
The last sword was an ordinary katana, with a red handle.
The picture in question was of a happy family. The wife was covered in burn scars, making her seem incredibly terrifying, while the husband seemed like a kind gentleman. They had two kids, a boy and girl each. While the boy took after their mother, the girl seemed to take after their father.
Grandma Zenin jumped and grabbed the 2nd sword, before throwing it across the room for Hagone to catch. He was especially startled, as he recognised the sword.
"It's a weapon that I used to use in my prime, the special grade cursed tool, split soul katana. I only planned to give it to you after you become a grade 1 sorcerer, but you've shown you have what it takes to use it. It's better you have it now anyway, then me letting it gather dust in here."
Just by holding it, Hagone could feel the countless years his grandma had spent with the sword. The amount of sword swings and battle technique's she had used, was all flooding into him but he knew very well he could replicate none of them.
However he could learn.
He bowed his head as he shouted with earnest,
"THANK YOU GRANDMA!"