Juchu Kaisen - 41
Chapter 41
“I don’t know,” Shoko said to me three minutes into Suzuki’s fight with Kobayashi. “I’m not sure about either of them.”
Suzuki chained a string of strikes using her fists, forearms and elbows, mixing in the occasional kick. Kobayashi handled these by blocking and then dodging once her momentum began to pick up.
The pattern was clear for me to see: Suzuki’s strikes became too strong for Kobayashi to block around the third or fourth consecutive attack. Each time she missed, or he interrupted her, the power of her attacks would reset.
Her cursed energy generated additional force with each hit. It was her innate technique.
“I suppose that’s natural,” I said. “You now have the body of a fighter, but not the eyes. Keep watching.”
In the meanwhile, Kobayashi was… not taking as much advantage as I expected. Each time he did manage a strike, they were dramatically weaker than the ones he threw against Satoshi. He was holding back for no good reason, and kept trying to set up for a grapple.
He wanted to win gently.
In doing so, he was exhausting himself trying to keep up. Suzuki was exhausting herself as well, but it seemed like she genuinely had better physical conditioning than Kobayashi. And she wasn’t about to let Kobayashi grapple her.
This battle had already been decided.
I smirked as I sensed the exhaustion finally hit Kobayashi. “Good game.”
“Huh?” Shoko looked at me.
The following flurry of strikes were a sight to behold.
A punch to the sternum, followed by a step forward and a punch to the liver. Suzuki stepped forward again, spun, and sent an elbow to Kobayashi’s face aided with the momentum of the spin. Then an uppercut a split second later, taking Kobayashi off his feet. While he was airborne, she drew her fist back and sent a wicked straight to his sternum again.
She chased after him as he flew, did a cartwheel that ended in a kick to his face. As he flew downwards, she landed on his chest and stood on it like it was a surfboard.
Then, she kicked him on his chin, scoffed, and turned around, walking back to the crowd of onlookers.
She looked irate.
“Damn, girl!” Nakamura exclaimed. “You didn’t have to do my boy like that!”
“Up yours, prick,” she said without even looking in his direction.
“Crazy,” he said, shaking his head. “Anyway, teach! Let me fight Gojo now! Please!”
Gojo, who was busy using Infinity to levitate Kobayashi’s insensate form to the sidelines, looked over his shoulder to Nakamura and grinned. “You really are out of your damn mind. I like that. How about it, Yaga-sensei? This guy’s been pestering me for days, and I’m getting real tired of it.”
“Fine,” Yaga frowned. “Nakamura Daiki, Gojo Satoru, step forth.”
000
Satoru was lying if he said he wasn’t excited to see what this cretin had in store for him.
He was also very excited to beat him to a pulp as well. Normally, Satoru wouldn’t go in for something as pointless as beating on the weak for satisfaction, but this particular weakling had managed to push his buttons.
So that was the score, now. He’d beat Daiki like he was his least favorite stepson, and then he’d tease him about it afterwards.
“You better deliver!” Satoru shouted at him. “Punk!”
Daiki smirked.
Yaga called the match. Satoru stood still. He’d give him a minute before kicking the crap out of him.
“Curse spitter,
Flyer than the titties on your sister’s babysitter
Top of the litter—“
The hell is this? Satoru grinned widely.
“—Daiki came to be the best, and he ain’t no quitter
Beat on you and bug girl, you can be bitter with her,
I’m for real, bro! Your Limitless is fuckin’ wack yo!
Pussy turtle with no stomach for attacks, though.”
He was definitely doing something with his cursed energy, but Satoru couldn’t tell what. Just to be safe, he enforced his ears with cursed energy. That way, even if it worked like Cursed Speech, and could also theoretically get past Infinity, it would still be stopped dead by his cursed energy.
“But I’mma drag you out that shell,
and spank you, put your ass through hell.”
Daiki crouched, and then dashed, headfirst into his Infinity.
Satoru’s grin widened even further. This will be good.
But on the offest of chances that it would work…
Satoru inched his feet apart and took his hands out of his pockets.
Like he promised, Daiki’s hands reached through Infinity to ‘drag him out of his shell’. And the hand just kept advancing. Further and further. Daiki’s entire body burned with cursed energy as he bored through Infinity until finally—
He grabbed Satoru by his tracksuit jacket. Satoru slapped the hand away.
Then Daiki hopped back. He looked slightly irritated. Huh?
Why didn’t he try again?
“So you rap phenomena into existence,” Satoru said. “Is there a limit? Is that why you didn’t try again?”
“Bodies laid low, stack neat like kanji,
Left, right, uppercut, hook, cross like a manji
No Infinity to hide in, cuz that shit’s lame
I’ll break you out all the same.”
Satoru laughed. What a powerful technique, wasted on an idiot!
Against Satoru’s expectations, he just continued.
“I say “iron skin”—now my dermis go plated,
I say “pain don’t stick”—now the wound get negated.
Limited scope? Fine. I’ll carve my perimeter,
Self-target mantra—make my frame sinister.
I’m a minister. With the words I’m delivering
When Daiki spit scripture, even curses be shivering
They quivering and hollering,
Bowing like they honoring
Talk slick, get de-balled
No fatherin’.”
Alright. Was he going to jump in again?
“I fight twenty vee one, ain’t got time for the fair ones,
When Daiki goes hunting, every bullet hits a bear, son,
Strapped to my teeth, katana in my sheath,
Fuck around, find out, you can no longer breathe.”
As the verse finished, nineteen other Daikis appeared from nowhere, all of them holding guns, with katanas strapped to their sides.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Satoru said as he made a gesture to summon a Blue.
Daiki’s clones began to open fire on him. Temporary constructs with cursed energy, but the bullets were solid and fast regardless, each of them able to do the same amount of damage as real ones.
They struck through Infinity, but landed harmlessly against his enforced skin. Just because the attacks could hit didn’t mean that they were effective. Daiki had a lot to say about how cowardly Satoru was for using Infinity.
And he could keep singing and rapping until the cows came home—wouldn’t mean jack shit if he were to still lose.
“Limitless lapse technique: Blue.”
An orb of hypercompressed space with its own gravity well swept through the crowd of fleeing Daikis, pulping them and reducing them to cursed energy as it passed.
The Blue passed through the real Daiki, and did less damage than Satoru had expected. Likely because he had used his cursed technique to increase his durability, though his skin hadn’t literally gone plated.
I suppose I should finally move from this spot, then.
Satoru instantly appeared next to the fleeing form of Daiki, grabbed him by his shoulder with his left hand, and then pulled him in for a serious punch.
He combined Blue to pull Daiki in, and then Red at the point of contact to add additional force to his attack, making it strong enough to very nearly pulp his insides. Satoru had been tempted to do that because Shoko could fix it anyhow, but the only thing that had stayed his hand was his concern that Shoko might not wish to reveal that ability of hers just yet.
Through the stream of vomit out of Daiki’s mouth, he managed to slur more raps.
“No pain, no gain,
No fame, all shame.”
Daiki’s cursed energy churned inside of him, repairing the damage.
“No limits to my spite, no end to my fight.”
Satoru pulled him in for another hit.
“Don’t do it, Daiki! Don’t do nothin’ rash!
But I know that I can do it--!”
Daiki pulled back his own fist.
He felt a terrible premonition.
“I can hit a Black Flaaaaaaaaash!”
Satoru punched him in his gut again. At that exact moment, Daiki hit him on his face, too.
And it was, in fact, a Black Flash.
It forced Satoru to let go of Daiki and send a trickle of Reverse Cursed Technique at his damaged face. In the ensuing ringing in his ears, he missed some of Daiki’s raps.
“mansion!
But I bet I can do this one, too! Domain Expansion!”
Shit!
Falling Blossom Emotion! Now or never.
But I will kill myself if Nakamura Daiki gets the better of me, too!
He almost made that a Binding Vow. Such was the degree of Satoru’s overwhelming spite.
Daiki made a handsign and his cursed energy churned, until… it fizzled out.
Completely. Only the barest trickles remained.
He fell on his side, utterly paralyzed, having run out of cursed energy to a near-lethal extent.
Satoru’s ill mood evaporated instantly. He threw his head back and laughed.
He laughed until his stomach got sore. Until he could hardly even breathe.
What a ridiculous battle.
“Clear out, Gojo!” Yaga boomed.
Satoru shook his head as his laughter died down, and he approached the downed Daiki. He picked him up easily over his shoulder and walked back to the crowd of stunned onlookers.
He felt a slight surge of shame, wondering if they were unimpressed by his not-overwhelming victory.
He cast a glance at Teira, and instantly regretted it. Both she and Shoko were pointing and giggling at him in a clearly mocking fashion.
He definitely wouldn’t live this down for a long while.
000
Shoko’s next fight was against Ito.
It went as well as I had expected. Since Shoko hadn’t rushed in headfirst without any caution, she had managed to last longer than Satoshi—but only barely. The shorthaired, mousy girl kicked her ass all the same.
I suspected that in a true battle, Shoko might come out on top in a battle of attrition. Ito would eventually hit a wall of exhaustion as she kept trying to break an opponent that kept repairing herself. That was only if Shoko learned how to better ration her cursed energy.
My first fight was against Geto Suguru.
He still looked dispirited from his first loss, bruises riddling his face as he faced off against me.
He didn’t even summon his cursed spirits. Likely, he was hoping that I might not use my shikigami.
I summoned fifteen Reaper Ants and had them play volleyball with Suguru’s body until Yaga called the match.
I didn’t wholly blame Suguru for his loss against Takahashi, but I knew that if he had taken her seriously from the start, attacking her brutally, then he would have won in an instant.
Same thing for Kobayashi. Suzuki had taught him a good lesson.
As I walked up to Suguru’s groaning form, I offered him a hand. “Do me a personal favor, Suguru—never take any of your fellow classmates lightly again. Okay?”
He looked at my hand, sighed helplessly, and took it. “Understood. Lesson learned.”
I dragged him up to his feet. He cast a glance over my shoulder, to Takahashi, a mix of emotion in his head that I could smell. Clearly, he still hadn’t done anything about the cursed energy in his head. Idiot—did he want to create a long-term complication with his feelings?
Rather than tell him what was going on, I put a hand over his forehead, and blasted his brain with a weak, but thorough wave of cursed energy, enough to displace Takahashi’s technique. As I did that, I vowed to have a talk with her about that technique.
Geto blinked, and then frowned in shock. “What—what was that? I feel different now.”
I left him to his own sleuthing while waiting out the other matches.
I was up again. This time against Suzuki.
Fifteen Reaper Ants, human volleyball, the works.
Unlike that idiot Gojo, I did not intend to drag any of these fights out. The types of battles that I took pleasure in were the ones where I could hurt and curse my opponent to my heart’s content. My fight with Gojo had met that requirement.
For any other minor bout, I would put in exactly as much effort as was warranted.
“No fair, boss,” Suzuki whimpered as I helped her up. She was sporting several large bruises all over her body. She’d need some cursed honey to recover.
“If you want fair, play baseball or something,” I said.
“Ouch.”
The rest of the fights were varying degrees of exciting.
Takahashi’s next match was against Nakamura. The latter barely had anything left in his stores to even manipulate his cursed energy, let alone use his cursed technique.
To make up for that, he had savagely gone after Takahashi, not giving her any time to let her scent technique hold.
Nakamura came out on top after a minute of all-out brawling, though it had been very close.
Satoshi and Kobayashi faced off for the third time this school year.
Unfortunately for Kobayashi, the injuries he had sustained while fighting Suzuki had hobbled him too much to get one over on Satoshi, whose own injuries were considerably milder. Satoshi won without much fanfare, and with much disappointment judging from his grimace of disgust at Kobayashi’s weakness. “Let’s fight another time, class rep,” he said to Kobayashi’s downed form. “I’m still not satisfied.”
“I… despise… you…”
The last mandatory fight of the day rolled up.
Ishikawa Takumi once again, versus Gojo Satoru.
“Hell yeah!” Gojo cheered. “I’m so glad I get to fight you. That technique of yours is too damn funny!”
Ishikawa chuckled. “Thank you, I know. It’s an odd one. But I’ll go all out against you, so don’t hold back, Gojo-san!”
“You definitely don’t want that,” Gojo chuckled.
“Begin the fight!” Yaga said.
Ishikawa ripped a page out from his art book, and made a gesture.
“Art Creation: Summoning!” he incanted. He wasn’t sparing any effort this time. Case in point, almost every last crumb of his cursed energy was expended on this one summon.
His summoned Shikigami was…
I sighed.
Gojo’s eyes sparkled.
There was a susurrus of excitement with the other students. They all seemed varying degrees of excited and starstruck.
For it was him, after all.
The one and only Son Goku.
“You look strong!” Goku said to Gojo. “You wanna fight me?”
Gojo raised two fingers and warped.
In that exact moment, Goku put two fingers to his temple. Instant transmission.
He warped in front of Ishikawa protectively to intercept Gojo’s blow.
In half a second, they traded a dozen blows. More accurately, Gojo punched, and Goku blocked. All of Goku’s hits were blocked by Infinity.
Physically, the manga character was keeping up with Gojo’s speed.
“Couldn’t be me,” I said to Shoko. “I would have just beaten Ishikawa to a pulp before he summoned a shikigami.”
Gojo had failed to learn his lesson, and thanks to that, he might actually lose.
The fight took to the skies, a close-quarters brawl that pushed Gojo to his physical limits.
Gojo teleported away to gain space and pointed a fingergun at Goku. “Cursed Technique Reversal: Red!”
Goku dodged.
The Red hurtled downwards. Towards Ishikawa.
Goku looked back shocked and flew towards the projectile as fast as he could.
But he was too slow.
The Red exploded the ground twenty feet away from Ishikawa, blowing him away almost fifty feet.
While he flew, I saw Ishikawa desperately wave a hand towards Goku while shouting “No! Get him!”
Goku turned back with much consternation in his expression to refocus on Gojo, who was already thousands of feet in the air.
Making two very distinct handsigns.
Figuring out what that Purple attack was had taken me days, but the answer I had arrived at was… deceptively simple.
It was the combination of Blue and Red, of course. Blue was the lapse technique—the strengthened version of Infinity that infinitely converged space to the point of creating a region of attraction. Like a black hole, almost.
Red was the Reversal. It did the opposite of Blue. Instead of converging space infinitely, it diverged it.
A big bomb, basically.
And somehow, in some way, Gojo Satoru had found a way to combine his Lapse and his Reversal technique into one form. Infinite divergence and infinite convergence. Two opposing infinities—they should have cancelled each other out.
Instead, they cancelled everything else out. Like a game of rock, paper, scissors, in which the ball of Purple had the upper hand over reality itself.
Goku produced his own energy beam to counter the Purple attack.
Both that technique and the shikigami became swallowed up in an instant as a line of searingly bright Purple shot through the sky—thankfully falling well short of Ishikawa Takumi. I understood what he had done, then.
Gojo had flown to create enough distance that Ishikawa fell out of the purple ball’s range. He had then aimed the ball at Ishikawa, knowing that Goku would block it rather than dodge, like he had done with Red.
Son Goku had done his best, but in the end, he was a cartoon character limited by a fifteen-year-old boy’s imagination and his stores of cursed energy.
Gojo warped back to the ground near Ishikawa, who was shakily pushing himself up to his feet after the sudden tumble he had taken through the air. “You give up?”
Ishikawa chuckled. “I guess so.”
“You did good, man,” Gojo grinned as he offered him a hand. “And between you and me, yours might just be the coolest technique I know of—aside from mine, of course.”
“Heheh,” Ishikawa took the hand and pulled himself up to his feet.
“Gojo Satoru wins!” Yaga-sensei called the match. That was it for the mandatory matches.
000
“I’ll start from the bottom, and exclude Aomori from the rankings as she is yet to be ranked,” Yaga-sensei began.
On the field, there were only four people that didn’t sport any bruises. Gojo, myself, Shoko and Yaga-sensei. Everyone else looked like they had been through the ringer. Especially Kobayashi.
And speak of the devil, “Kobayashi Jun!” Yaga-sensei boomed. “Eleventh place. For your lackluster performance in your first match-up. Where was your fighting spirit, boy? Such a showing is unacceptable, and until you learn how to take this seriously, you will remain at the bottom! Your second match was sabotaged by the injuries that you sustained in your first match from half-assing your fight against Suzuki. You fought with more fighting spirit then, but it wasn’t enough. Satoshi had you beat. Your perception might be a cut above the rest, but your physical conditioning is poor. You need to work on that.”
Kobayashi nodded numbly. I could sense how many stress responses he was trying to bury. The poor boy had had a day, huh.
“Satoshi Ren. Tenth place,” Yaga-sensei continued.
“Bullshit!”
“You’re a human, but you fight like a wild animal. Not an ounce of brains in you. That’s why you keep getting handled like a wild animal. You’re not fighting random hoodlums and Grade Four cursed spirits anymore, kid—you’re fighting other sorcerers. If you can’t think while fighting, you’re dead meat!”
Satoshi harrumphed.
Shoko grabbed my tracksuit jacket’s sleeve in anticipation. She seemed very desperate to be in the top eight, huh.
“Geto Suguru,” Yaga-sensei’s voice became a lot more disappointed. Shoko held back a squeal of excitement. Top eight secured. I grinned at her. “You showed a lot of promise in normal lessons, but you let me down fiercely. Your first match-up was almost as bad as Kobayashi’s.”
“Almost?!” Nakamura laughed. “He turned himself into a piñata!”
“Shut up while I’m talking, you punk,” Yaga-sensei growled. “Your second match-up was far more spirited. You were able to show off more of what you could do, but your mentality remains lacking. Geto, Kobayashi—I must ask the both of you plainly: were you holding back because the ones you were fighting were girls? Don’t answer me. Reflect on this question and come to an answer on your own time. Try to learn from it, regardless. Moving on. Takahashi Hana, at number eight. Come to me for private notes.”
Takahashi nodded.
“Number seven, Ieiri Shoko. I want to take a moment to acknowledge your meteoric improvement, Ieiri. You went from a rank beginner who could not even manipulate your cursed energy to a seasoned disciple of the arts in very little time at all. I foresee a bright future for you, should you continue working hard and giving it your all. Good job, Ieiri!”
I clapped for her, as did the other girls. Gojo and Suguru did the same.
“Ishikawa Takumi. Sixth place. You’re impressive. This isn’t to say that I’m happy with your skill. You’re impressive in the way that a prodigy is. But you can’t rely on your prodigy. Shikigami users that neglect their bodies are dead meat in this business. If you can seal up your non-existent hand-to-hand skills, there will be no limit to your potential!”
Ishikawa grinned bashfully. Nakamura patted him on his shoulder. Gojo did the same.
“Suzuki Yui—fifth place. Excellent ferocity. You fight with focused malice and spite, and you constantly chase opportunities to land a hit.” Like Geto, she had also been up against me. In that fight, she had been forced to essentially fight for her life against an entire group of entirely-too-strong apparitions who all individually outclassed her. Still, she had survived for an objectively impressive thirty-two seconds. “Your path to progression is a simple one—just focus on your Cursed Energy Manipulation and you will be able to put that fighting prowess of yours to good use.”
“Nakamura Daiki, fourth place. Like Ishikawa, I’m also of mixed opinions about your style of fighting. Your innate technique is powerful, but you’ve seen the dangers of relying on it for everything. There are steep costs to it that could see you killed in action should you continue fighting with carelessness.”
Nakamura smiled placidly and nodded. His cursed energy had regenerated somewhat, but it felt different now.
More responsive. More fluid.
I had wondered about it during his match, but I could see it now—the Black Flash that he had landed had indeed changed him. I still had the slightest inkling that just rapping a Black Flash into existence wouldn’t always work for him—and that there might be a cost if he failed to rap a phenomenon into existence, like how he had failed to Expand his Domain.
Still, Nakamura Daiki had only been held back by an amateurish grasp on Cursed Energy Manipulation and fundamental combat skills. Both those things would see to themselves in time now.
Meaning, the next time he fought in earnest, he might prove… troublesome.
I honestly couldn’t wait.
“Keep working hard, Nakamura. Now, moving on. Ito Aoi, third place. Excellent work. Everyone, take heed. Ito Aoi is a star example of what can be accomplished without the use of a flashy innate technique.” I was pretty sure she didn’t have an innate technique at all. I’d have to ask Gojo if he had sensed her using it. His senses were better attuned for that sort of thing than mine were. “Jujutsu Sorcerers live and die by the power of their fundamentals! I repeat, we live and die by the power of our fundamentals! Engrave these words into your hearts!”
“Moving on, Gojo Satoru, second place. Good job.”
That’s what I like to hear!
“HAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“WHAT?! NO WAY! NO WAY!”
I blew a raspberry at Gojo. “Gojo is a big fat loser!”
“No way, sensei!” Gojo shouted at Yaga. “No way! You can’t—you can’t be serious! She bribed you, didn’t she?!”
Yaga growled in rage. “What the hell did you just say to me, you shitty brat?”
Gojo gaped at him, eyes wide. “No! I mean—“
“Can you believe the nerve of this poorly behaved brat, sensei?” I asked.
“Don’t start, Hibana,” he growled. “Both of you, shut up before I lose my temper.”
I nodded solemnly at Yaga.
Then, when he turned away from me, I flipped Gojo off with both middle fingers.
He gasped.
“The reason I’ve placed you in second place, Gojo, is because you keep letting fights drag on until they become problematic for you. You fight like a showboating idiot instead of a Jujutsu Sorcerer. Hibana, on the other hand, did everything right. She showed no mercy. She did not even give her opponents a moment to collect themselves. She crushed them. Ruthlessly. And you want to know why she did that? Gojo? Why she refused to take any chances? Tell us, Hibana.”
“Ah, that’s easy,” I said. “Because I’m not an idiot. In the world of Jujutsu, anything can happen. My supremacy isn’t written in stone. I simply enforce it by remaining cautious against all unknown variables.”
My soul tickled at my throat. Right on the x-shaped scar, reminding me that the world of Jujutsu was filled with all sorts of bullshit.
“Perfectly put,” Yaga-sensei said. “Until you learn that lesson in humility, you’ll remain number two.”
Gojo clicked his tongue. “Whatever,” he muttered under his breath, too low for anyone but me to hear.
Thank you, Yaga-sensei. I am in your debt for the foreseeable future. I will leave a slice of cake for you in your office.
“Moving on: Hibana Teira, number one. Good job. My only advice for you is to be mindful of how much of your capabilities that you reveal to your opponents. Consider carefully what you can afford to reveal.”
Went unsaid was that this advice wasn’t just meant to caution me against my classmates—but my real opponents. The higher-ups.
I nodded. “Thank you. I’ll take that in mind.”
“Good. Now, I want to give praise to every single one of you who managed to pass my test today. I must reiterate that for the standards of Jujutsu students with no clan backing, you’ve come remarkably far. It is my hope that all of you may one day manage to reach the rank of Grade One. This would further ensure your survival in our line of work—though there are no guarantees, of course. More than anything else, it may allow you to protect those closest to you.”
Keyword: may.
But unless you were me, you just couldn’t be everywhere at once.
“Finally—and I know some of you have been waiting patiently for this moment—if you are dissatisfied with your ranking, you may issue a challenge. No one has to accept it, however, but this is still your chance.”
“I want a rematch, Takahashi.”
Geto Suguru walked up to her, his figure towering over her. Takahashi looked up at him in horror. “Huh?!”
--
A/N: Our goat Jun took an enormous blow to his stocks, unfortunately. Sheesh man, eleventh place? Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk. Get yo bands up or get left behind, class rep.
I have nothing to say to Geto Suguru.
1. Hibana Teira
2. Gojo Satoru
3. Ito Aoi
4. Nakamura Daiki
5. Suzuki Yui
6. Ishikawa Takumi
7. Ieiri Shoko
8. Takahashi Hana
9. Geto Suguru
10. Satoshi Ren
11. Kobayashi Jun
12. Aomori (unranked)