The training field of Tokyo Jujutsu High stretched out like a quiet meadow surrounded by tall stone walls and wooden structures. The grass swayed lightly in the breeze, and distant sparrows could be heard chirping. For a school that dealt with curses and death, the place felt oddly calm.
Gojo stood with his usual swagger in the middle of the field, blindfold on, hands in his pockets. Across from him, Arata Kurogane stood straight, his expression serious as always, though there was a spark of curiosity in his eyes.
"Alright, Arata," Gojo began, rocking back on his heels. "Time for the basics. Before you start throwing your fancy cursed spirits around, you gotta understand cursed energy itself."
He raised his right hand casually and coated it with cursed energy, his voice carrying a playful tone. "This here is reinforcement. The simplest use of CE."
He tapped his hand lightly against a massive boulder that had been placed in the field for training. The boulder, taller than Arata himself, cracked instantly. A moment later, it shattered into tiny pieces, dust scattering across the ground.
Arata blinked, his calm face breaking for just a second. "...That was with a light tap."
"Exactly!" Gojo grinned. "Cursed energy strengthens your body and strikes. Without learning this, you'll die in your first real fight. Well, unless you hide behind your little wolfie the whole time."
Before Arata could respond, a new voice came from behind them.
"You really don't know how to shut up, do you, Gojo?"
Both of them turned. A tall man in a black uniform approached, his expression lazy but sharp, a cigarette hanging between his fingers. His posture screamed "I'd rather be anywhere else," but there was something about the way he carried himself — calm, collected, grounded.
Gojo's grin widened. "Speak of the devil. Arata, meet Atsuya Kusakabe, Grade 1 sorcerer. Strongest there is without a cursed technique. Basically the number one normal guy in a world full of cheaters."
Kusakabe sighed, exhaling smoke. "Don't introduce me like that. You make it sound like I'm some mascot."
Arata bowed slightly out of respect. "Arata Kurogane. It's an honor."
Kusakabe studied him, eyebrows raised. "Polite too, huh? Not what I expected from someone who just jumped straight into special grade."
Gojo clapped his hands dramatically. "See? Already impressed. Anyway, Kusakabe's gonna be your teacher for cursed energy control. He's basically a walking manual for the stuff."
"Wait, what?" Kusakabe looked sharply at Gojo. "You dump a brand-new special grade on me without warning? I don't remember signing up for babysitting duty."
Gojo waved him off. "Relax, you're great with kids. And by kids, I mean fifteen-year-old prodigies who can erase curses like chewing gum. Besides, you're the only one I trust with the boring but important stuff."
Kusakabe muttered something under his breath about "Gojo dumping work on others again" but turned to Arata anyway. "Fine. Since you're a special grade, I'll keep this simple. You already know how to pour CE into attacks, right?"
Arata nodded. "I've used reinforcement before, but not with full control. More instinct than technique."
"That figures," Kusakabe said, flicking his cigarette away. "Alright, lesson one. We start small. I don't care if you can crush a mountain. If you can't wrap cursed energy evenly around your fist, you'll waste energy and open yourself to counters."
Gojo stretched his arms above his head. "And with that, my job here is done!"
Kusakabe glared. "Don't you dare walk away—"
But Gojo snapped his fingers, and in a blink, he was gone. Only his voice lingered in the air, echoing like a ghost: "Have fun, you two~!"
Kusakabe sighed deeply. "Damn special grades. They think the world runs on their schedule." He turned back to Arata. "Alright, kid. Let's get to work."
Kusakabe placed a small candle on a wooden block. The flame flickered gently in the wind.
"First task," he said. "I want you to coat your finger with cursed energy and hold it close to the flame without snuffing it out or making it bigger. You'll need absolute control to do that. Too much, the flame dies. Too little, it'll flare up."
Arata crouched in front of the candle, his expression calm but focused. He extended his finger and let cursed energy flow. The flame flickered violently, almost going out.
Kusakabe clicked his tongue. "Steady. Your cursed energy is raw. Smooth it out, like a thin film."
Arata adjusted, narrowing his eyes. The flame wavered, then steadied, glowing softly. He held it there for five seconds before the flame snuffed out.
"Not bad for a start," Kusakabe said. "Tomorrow, you'll hold it for ten."
Arata nodded silently.
The next day, Kusakabe led him back to the field. A line of small pebbles lay on the ground.
"Today's task," Kusakabe explained, "is to coat each pebble with a thin layer of cursed energy. Not too much, not too little. Equal control on every single one."
Arata crouched and picked up the first pebble. Energy coated it easily, but the second pebble cracked under too much pressure.
Kusakabe raised an eyebrow. "Told you. Balance."
Arata worked for hours, sweat forming on his brow. By the end, half the pebbles were cracked, but half glowed faintly with stable cursed energy.
Kusakabe nodded. "Progress. You'll get it."
By the third day, Kusakabe pushed him harder. He placed a wooden plank in front of Arata.
"Hit it," he ordered.
Arata reinforced his fist with cursed energy and punched. The plank broke, but not cleanly.
"Again," Kusakabe said.
Arata punched again. This time, the plank shattered neatly.
Kusakabe crossed his arms. "Better. Remember — reinforcement isn't just dumping cursed energy into your body. It's control, flow, precision. Waste energy, and you'll burn out in a real fight."
Arata exhaled slowly, flexing his hand. "I understand."
"Good. Keep that up, and you'll actually start looking like a sorcerer instead of some punk who stumbled into special grade."
For the first time, Arata allowed himself a small grin. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Kusakabe smirked faintly. "Don't push it."