"Hm?"
All of a sudden, Mahiko felt it — a subtle but unmistakable uptick in her proficiency with her ability.
It was a delicate sensation, like a faint current of electricity threading from her fingertips all the way down to the deepest root of her soul. The way an athlete, after enough training, begins to feel their own movements grow lighter, more obedient — *Idle Transfiguration, the technique that touched and reshaped souls, had in the instant she'd healed the old woman's sore shoulder become just a little more responsive* than before.
Granted, she'd only just been born. Her proficiency was sitting at rock bottom. Basically anything she did would register as improvement.
But still —
Healing people… trains the ability too?
Mahiko blinked. Twice.
…Well, yeah. Obviously.
But — WAIT. Why didn't anyone say so?!
She snapped to attention on the spot.
Thinking it through properly, it made complete sense. In the world of jujutsu, it wasn't the body that housed the soul — it was the soul that housed the body. Whatever shape the soul held, the body conformed to it. Alter the soul, and the physical form changed along with it.
The essence of *Idle Transfiguration* was the manipulation of souls. Whether she was healing or destroying, the fundamental mechanism was identical: operate on the soul, and the body follows. Curing the old woman's shoulder ache was the equivalent of making an extraordinarily precise micro-adjustment to the tiny region of her soul corresponding to "shoulder" — a feat far more technically demanding than just slamming a hand down on someone and warping them into a monster.
Repair was always more intricate than destruction.
Which meant that training through healing would yield faster growth than training through killing.
That was completely sound logic.
At that realization, Mahiko's eyes lit up.
A grin spread across her face — curious, hungry, thoroughly entertained. Her gaze swept over the pedestrians on the street like a radar dish, scanning methodically, scrutinizing every single passerby for any sign of ailment.
…That middle-aged guy's gait looks fine. Pass.
…That lady's skin is in great shape. Pass.
…That one over there —
Got one.
On a bench at the edge of the street, a young man in a tracksuit was grimacing, kneading his own ankle with both hands. The swelling told the whole story — a sprained ankle, and not a mild one.
Mahiko walked over and crouched down, pressing a finger against his ankle.
The young man couldn't see her, of course. He just kept his head down, working at the joint, muttering under his breath: "God, how did it swell this bad…"
*Idle Transfiguration* — activate.
This time she was even more careful with her control than she'd been healing the old woman's shoulder. She reached her perception inward, locating the small region of his soul that corresponded to "right ankle."
Mm…
The distortion from the sprain was minor — like a puzzle piece that had been bent slightly out of true, no longer fitting flush with the pieces around it.
Gently ease it back. Then clear out the pooled blood…
The young man's ankle gave a small twitch.
And then he froze.
He looked down at his ankle. Before his eyes, the swelling receded at a visible rate, and within a few seconds — it was completely normal.
"…?"
The young man's expression cycled from bewilderment to outright shock. He rotated his ankle experimentally. No pain whatsoever.
"What the hell?" he muttered, turning it again, and then again — before standing up with the expression of a man who had just witnessed something supernatural, bouncing on the spot a couple times to test it.
Mahiko had already moved on.
No need for thanks, no need at all. It was nothing, really.
And her touch was already smoother. That second round of healing had flowed considerably more naturally than treating the old woman — her perception of the soul was sharper and cleaner.
Next.
On to the next one.
Mahiko's gaze locked onto a new target with practiced speed.
By the flower bed in a nearby park, a small grey bird was huddled on the ground. One leg was bent at a wrong angle, and its wings fluttered occasionally, but it couldn't get airborne.
Injured.
Mahiko walked over and crouched, resting her fingers lightly on the bird's body. The little creature seemed to sense her approach; it startled, flapping frantically in an attempt to flee, but its bad leg couldn't push off, and it could only twist and tilt its head in panicked confusion.
"Hold still, hold still. I'm fixing you up."
Not that it could understand human speech. Or — well — cursed spirit speech.
*Idle Transfiguration*.
This one felt different. A bird's soul was far smaller and thinner than a human's — like a leaf that could fly. Mahiko was forced to calibrate her control with extreme delicacy, picking her way carefully toward the region of the soul corresponding to the broken leg.
There. Right here.
Repair.
The bird ruffled its wings. Once, twice.
Then it stood up — both legs steady. It tilted its head and glanced around in that uniquely oblivious way that birds have, apparently unsure of what had just happened — and then, with one vigorous beat of its wings, it flew away.
Mahiko watched the bird disappear into the sky and patted her hands together, satisfied.
Healing a human and healing a bird felt completely different. A bird's soul was smaller and more fragile; the precision required was higher, which meant the workout it gave her control was correspondingly greater.
Heh. That's kind of interesting.
She was getting more and more hooked. Her gaze kept sweeping across the crowd, and before long she spotted something at the intersection ahead — a salaryman in a suit, head buried in his phone, completely oblivious to the edge of the step right in front of him.
She could see it was about to happen. The girl rushed over at once, arriving at his side in the instant just before he lost his footing —
And stood to one side with a pleasant smile, watching him fall.
"AH!"
There it was. He went down.
The salaryman clutched his knee on the ground, hissing through his teeth.
Mahiko sauntered over, crouched, and gave his knee a pat.
*Idle Transfiguration*.
Done. Good as new — knee and scraped palm both handled in one go.
The salaryman was still sucking in sharp little breaths when, two seconds later, he realized the pain was gone. The bleeding on his trousers had stopped. He stood up in utter bewilderment, turning his knee this way and that, examining it from every angle.
Mahiko watched him pick up his phone and wander off in a daze, then planted her hands on her hips with an air of profound self-satisfaction.
Man. I really am a good person.
"Hahahaha."
The girl was genuinely, inexplicably happy. She couldn't quite explain why — perhaps because, for the first time since her transmigration, she was experiencing what it actually felt like to be alive. In this moment, she was truly, simply happy.
And then she completely lost control of herself.
The girl wove through the crowd, faster and faster, more and more in her element, her footsteps quickening to a near-sprint — like a child who'd just discovered a new toy and had gone absolutely feral with delight.
Myopia — fixed!
Herniated disc — fixed!
Androgenic hair loss — fixed!
Infertility — fixed!
See something wrong with you? I'm coming over. I don't care about the specifics. I am going to FIX FIX FIX FIX you on the spot!!
"Hahahaha…!"
The girl was running now, the blue-haired silhouette darting through the crowd, spotting anyone with a problem and smacking them with a palm, delivering instant healing on the fly.
Her ability was growing more responsive by the second. Part of that was raw talent — her proficiency was climbing at a ludicrous rate. But part of it was the nature of the work itself: repair was always more intricate than destruction, and the growth she was gaining from healing was actually outpacing what she'd have gotten from combat.
And every different type of injury placed entirely different demands on her precision and soul-control. With every new condition she treated, she learned something new.
Isn't this so much more satisfying than grinding levels through fighting?
The passersby who'd been inexplicably smacked were left standing in place, thoroughly bewildered —
Wait — my nearsightedness is gone? Why can I suddenly see everything clearly?
My back… wait? It doesn't hurt? It actually doesn't hurt anymore?
Honey, look at me, I think I might — actually never mind, we'll talk about it later.
Hold on, is my head — is that — am I growing HAIR?? WHAT — WHY IS MY HAIR JUST ERUPTING OUT OF MY SCALP LIKE A FOUNTAIN RIGHT NOW?!?!
Shibuya, for one brief afternoon, became the epicenter of an inexplicable wave of paranormal blessings. More and more pedestrians were reporting that they'd been miraculously "healed" of something. And while they all stood around comparing notes in collective bewilderment, the culprit responsible for every last incident had already sprinted three full city blocks away.
Since transmigrating into this world, Mahiko had noticed — perhaps influenced by the original Mahito's cursed spirit personality — that her sense of playfulness had gone through the roof. Everything she did, she was looking for the fun angle. Everything felt like a new game. The whole world was shiny and strange and endlessly entertaining, like a kid with an inexhaustible supply of curiosity about absolutely everything.
And while she was at it, playing around, Mahiko used *Idle Transfiguration* to give her own body a little adjustment.
Mahito's ability could reshape others — but it could reshape herself, too.
Behind her, a pair of pristine white wings unfurled slowly. A small golden halo materialized above her head. Her clothes shifted into a flowing white dress, its hem drifting gently in the night breeze.
There in the streets of Shibuya — in that other dimension invisible to all human eyes — the cutest, most adorable, most radiant angel in the entire universe had descended upon the earth.
Ah, the halo's a little crooked — let me fix that… there we go.
Perfect.
Mahiko beat her wings and went bouncing down the street, continuing her search for the next "patient."
And then she found someone who looked a bit off.
Standing by a guardrail at the side of the road was a teenage boy. Even from a distance, Mahiko could tell the aura around him was nothing like an ordinary person's.
Not the "something's medically wrong with him" kind of off. More like — how to describe it — the air around him had settled by a full degree, carrying a certain weight. A certain pressure.
She didn't think anything of it.
She was too deep in the zone.
Mahiko jogged right over, wings spread wide, halo blazing, nose tilted imperiously skyward, and planted herself in front of him with her hands on her hips.
"Alright, what rare and incurable ailment have you got!" the angel-girl announced with tremendous dignity. "Go ahead and speak freely! This angel is offering free consultations today — swift diagnosis, immediate cure, miraculous recovery guaranteed, no case too difficult…uh?"
Her voice cut out.
Wait. Something was wrong.
She'd actually gotten a good look at him now.
What she was sensing on this person — that was Cursed Energy.
This person was a jujutsu sorcerer.
If he's a sorcerer, then I might actually recognize him…
The girl looked him up and down.
Black, spiky, hedgehog-esque short hair. Dark green eyes. A cold, impassive expression. The dark-colored uniform of Jujutsu High…
Super familiar… wait… hold on —
WAIT WAIT WAIT HOLD ON.
She'd figured out who this was. She'd been too far gone in the moment to recognize him at first glance, but now — with her full attention — she saw it completely clearly.
This guy — this guy was — !!
"A cursed spirit?"
The boy's brow furrowed. His voice was low and flat. He brought his hands together and formed a seal. Around him, the shadows stirred to life — black, viscous, seething — spreading and expanding across the ground like something alive.
That's MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, WHAT THE HELL —!!
First-year student at Tokyo Jujutsu High. User of the Ten Shadows Technique. The second male lead of the entire series — Megumi Fushiguro!!
OH NO.
Mahiko spun around and bolted.
RUN!!
I absolutely cannot fight this person!!
If I lose to him, that's bad enough — but if I WIN, I have to deal with MAHORAGA getting unleashed on me!!
____
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