Warm water flowed over her skin as misty steam rose slowly under the bathroom lights.
Utaha submerged herself entirely in the bathtub, leaving only her nose and eyes above the surface.
She tried to let the warm water soothe her nerves, which had been tense for days, and isolate herself from the outside world's noise.
However, her mind did not relax. Instead, it focused with unprecedented intensity on the ethereal yet real power within her body.
Cursed Energy.
Images of Sukuna controlling her body flashed repeatedly in her mind. Each time, her consciousness had been like a bystander, forced to "feel" how Sukuna mobilized that vast, cold energy as easily as moving his own fingers.
The feeling was as clear as a brand—the trajectory of the Cursed Energy's flow, the nodes where it condensed, the moment of its eruption...
She had "seen" it all and felt it as if it were her own.
'When Sukuna-san controls Cursed Energy, the flow seems exceptionally smooth. It's extremely concentrated during eruptions, with almost no loss or stagnation in between.'
Utaha closed her eyes, trying to recall that feeling while attempting to use her will to capture and guide the much thinner Cursed Energy within her. She imitated Sukuna's method from her memory, trying to concentrate the scattered Cursed Energy into her palm.
However, things didn't go as planned. No matter how much she concentrated, the imagined torrent of Cursed Energy did not appear. Only a faint, almost imperceptible cold sensation scurried randomly inside her body.
Forget about condensing it into a form, she couldn't even make it flow steadily in one direction.
After several attempts, not only was there no progress, but the excessive mental concentration and slight frustration gave her a headache.
"Tsk, fool." Sukuna's voice, lazy yet blunt in its evaluation, rang out in her mind, breaking her futile attempts.
"In your current state, you're like someone trying to run hurdles before learning how to walk."
Utaha felt a bit annoyed by his words and retorted in her mind, "I'm just imitating the way you use Cursed Energy. I remember that feeling very clearly."
"Remember it clearly? Imitation?" Sukuna sneered, his four crimson eyes seemingly staring at her chaotic thoughts through the steam.
"What you remember is just the surface, the result. It's like seeing a chef slice a fish in half and thinking you've learned knife skills, without knowing why he cut at that angle, how much force he used, how his wrist turned, or how the blade entered the muscle fibers."
His tone carried the lecture of a senior mentor to an overambitious apprentice. "Don't learn from me. A beginner trying to imitate Cursed Energy control at my level is no different from blind men touching an elephant."
"You don't understand at all why I control Cursed Energy that way. Behind every increase or decrease in strength and every adjustment in flow is a combination of my battle instincts, understanding of the essence of energy, and judgment of the current situation."
"Without understanding the deep internal mechanisms, forcing an imitation of details will only result in a poor imitation that might even harm yourself."
Utaha fell silent.
She knew Sukuna had a point. That kind of effortless, surgical precision in control must be backed by an accumulation of countless experiences and deep understanding.
"Then... what should I do?" She asked, somewhat discouraged.
"What should you do?"
Sukuna's tone became unusually calmer, even carrying a hint of "instruction."
"The best way is to let go of those half-baked 'advanced techniques' you got from observing me and return to the most primitive state—using your own feelings."
"Your Cursed Energy is an extension of your emotions and life. Don't think about controlling or commanding it, that's how you treat a tool."
"First, feel it, just as you feel your own breath and heartbeat. Feel the trajectory of it flowing naturally in your body, no matter how weak or scattered it is. Find it, become familiar with it, and acknowledge that it is a part of you."
Sukuna's teaching was different from a certain white-haired idiot with a blindfold.
Gojo Satoru's fundamental makeup and way of perceiving the world were different from ordinary people. His method of 'self-realization' was built on monster-like innate conditions that ordinary people couldn't understand, let alone imitate. Very few of his students had actually succeeded by following his lead.
Sukuna, on the other hand, had groped and fought his way up from the mud and blood. He knew exactly what obstacles would be encountered during the learning process and what kind of confusion would arise.
"Don't pursue form, don't pursue power. Only pursue the flow itself. One step at a time."
These words, calm, direct, and even professional, were beyond Utaha's expectations.
She had thought Sukuna would mock her or ignore her, she hadn't expected him to actually guide her.
Following his words, Utaha gave up her previous attempts at rigid imitation and forceful driving.
She adjusted her breathing, letting her body and mind relax further in the hot water, and slowly turned her attention inward. She no longer went "looking" for Cursed Energy, but instead went to "feel" herself.
Gradually, after filtering out anxiety and distracting thoughts, she began to capture some subtle sensations she had previously ignored.
The warmth of blood rushing under her skin, the power of her heartbeat, the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed...
And mixed within these life activities, a hint of something cool, slippery, and seemingly possessing its own faint will. They were like tiny fish occasionally flashing in dark water, scattered throughout her body, swimming aimlessly.
Is this... my Cursed Energy?
Utaha carefully moved her consciousness close to one of those "cool" strands. She didn't grab it forcefully but just touched it gently like a curious bystander.
That strand of Cursed Energy rippled slightly, appearing a bit startled, but it didn't resist violently.
Utaha patiently maintained this gentle contact, feeling its own rhythm.
Then, she tried, using the mental image of stirring warm water, to very slightly guide this strand of Cursed Energy to flow toward her right palm, which was resting on the edge of the tub.
This process was excruciatingly slow, and the Cursed Energy was very mischievous, often deviating from the course.
But Utaha kept Sukuna's reminder "not to force it" in mind, and just patiently, over and over again, used the gentlest intent to guide, soothe, and gather it.