I Play Ninjutsu in Jujutsu Kaisen! Chapter 9

"What are you all eating so late at night? It smells pretty good—count me in."

Gojo Satoru's voice came from the end of the hallway.

"This meal cost me five thousand yen. If you want some, Teacher Gojo, you'll have to give me one thousand yen."

Maki Zenin said this, clearly feeling she needed to recoup her costs promptly.

"Oh my, Maki, that's not right. I'm a teacher—how can students make their teacher pay?"

Gojo Satoru appeared before them, holding a black uniform.

A Jujutsu High uniform...

Natsu Hiraku merely glanced at it and knew it was his. After all, they had not given him one before; the black T-shirt and long pants he was currently wearing were just spare clothes.

Once he put on this uniform, he would count as a member of Jujutsu High. With these friends by his side, he believed the days ahead would not be as lonely as before.

"The dishes are here! Make way!"

Panda emerged carrying two dishes and a bowl of soup. However, he moved extremely slowly, with a bowl balanced on each thick arm while his hands steadily held the hot soup. His nervous appearance was rather comical.

Yuta Okkotsu caught the enticing aroma of the food and unconsciously swallowed. Gritting his teeth, he said, "I'm out of money this month. I'll make it up to you next month. Count me in."

Ten thousand yen a month—one meal a day, with quality guaranteed for the custom set menu!"

Natsu Hiraku looked at Gojo Satoru with a sly grin, as though saying that if he did not pay up, he could forget about leaving.

"Uh..."

Gojo Satoru looked at the four dishes and one soup on the table and fell into thought. After studying them for a moment, he said, "How about half price?"

"Deal! But let's be clear: you get what you pay for. Half price it is."

"Salmon!"

As soon as Toge Inumaki spoke, Panda beside him explained, "Toge says he wants in too."

"Alright, that makes four. Maki, do you want a month too? I can give you a discount!"

"Ahem!"

Maki Zenin hurriedly wiped the grease from the corner of her mouth with her right hand, then said with a solemn expression, "The food is pretty good. Since they're all getting it, naturally I'll get a month's worth too."

"Mm."

Natsu Hiraku was practically blooming with joy inside. He had earned 225,000 yen in a single night. Although 70% of it would go toward ingredients, it did not diminish his delight at making money.

After dinner.

Natsu Hiraku lay on his bed, gazing at the silent starry sky outside. Suddenly, a white-and-red meteor streaked across the beautiful night, becoming the most eye-catching star among them.

For him right now, Fire Style: Great Fire Annihilation was no different from an ultimate move. After all, one breath of fire consumed nearly a third of the cursed energy in his body, and there was no upper limit to the cost.

The Sharingan was also a high-consumption skill. If he activated both at once, he would become just like Kakashi—the poster child for running out of mana.

Open his eyes for ten minutes, spend the whole day weak.

In real combat, he should avoid using those two whenever possible. He simply could not afford to treat them as minor skills.

So for now, all he could do was train his body and use the Sharingan to copy other people's hand-to-hand techniques, right?

Speaking of the strongest hand-to-hand fighter at Jujutsu High, it should be Maki. After all, he could not kick a cursed spirit flying without relying on cursed energy.

For the time being, that would be his training plan: strengthen his body, copy Maki's fighting techniques, and study cursed techniques under Teacher Gojo.

He still had to learn proper cursed techniques. Fire Style: Great Fire Annihilation truly drained too much mana, and it would be easy for him to fall behind during high-intensity cursed spirit exorcism missions.

After pondering for a long time, Natsu Hiraku began to feel sleepy. With visions of the future in his mind, he slowly closed his eyes.

The next day.

The sound of "ring-ring-ring" echoed by his ear. The alarm clock beside his bed continued its steady output, the best companion for getting up on time.

Natsu Hiraku slowly opened his eyes and looked toward the light filtering in through the window.

It was 5:30 in the morning. The sun had yet to fully rise, revealing only a small edge of itself, but this was the wake-up time Natsu Hiraku had set for himself. The morning was the key to the day, and this was the best time to go out for a run and get his body moving.

He got up, put on the clothes by his bed and the shoes beneath it, washed up quickly, then headed straight out to the training grounds to run.

However, it seemed he was not the only one up early. Maki Zenin had apparently been there for some time. She was drenched in sweat, both hands gripping a Naginata. What looked like a casual strike was anything but ordinary.

Every slash stirred up the fallen leaves scattered across the ground. The muscles in her sturdy arms were taut, carrying a beauty born of strength.

As Natsu Hiraku watched from the side, he instinctively activated his Sharingan, wanting to recreate every one of those moves in his mind.

Maki Zenin noticed Natsu Hiraku beside her, but she did not stop swinging her Naginata. Instead, she smiled faintly and continued.

A silent lesson unfolded between the two. Natsu Hiraku carefully observed the flow of her power and center of gravity, while the Sharingan's replication sent his mind into a blank state.

An immense amount of analytical data flooded into his mind, as though he had carefully watched it all over again within an imaginary space, down to the fall of every bead of sweat. But obviously, anything that tested one's memory like this could easily cause headaches and intense dizziness.

After watching for just over ten minutes, Natsu Hiraku dropped to his knees, panting heavily as he vomited up the dinner from the night before that his stomach had not yet digested.

"Bleurgh—"

Damn, my head's about to explode. What kind of joke is this? Even just memorizing the movements hurts this much.

"Bleurgh—"

This felt awful!

This Sharingan was fucking garbage. It definitely wasn't that his own brain couldn't keep up.

"What? Not using those eyes of yours to copy my movements anymore?"

Maki Zenin's voice came from in front of him, carrying a trace of pride.

"You did that on purpose? Blech—"

Natsu Hiraku finally understood why his brain had overloaded so quickly. So she had been behind it.

"Of course. I deliberately made my swings a little faster."

Maki Zenin planted her naginata in the ground, picked up the cup of water beside her, and took several large gulps. Then she sat on a stone bench and said, "During our cursed technique studies ten days ago, I noticed there was something unusual about your eyes. I thought that since they gave you observation abilities beyond ordinary people, copying movements should be no problem. So, with a try-it-and-see attitude, I increased the force and speed of my swings."

"Blech—"

After thoroughly vomiting up last night's meal, Natsu Hiraku felt slightly better. He wiped his mouth and slowly got to his feet. The cold sweat on his forehead and his ragged breathing proved just how weak his mental state was at the moment.

As expected of someone from the Zenin Family. That sharp observational ability and calm mind alone surpassed those of many sorcerers. No—was anyone chosen by Gojo Satoru ever simple?

Panda, created by Principal Yaga; Toge Inumaki of the Cursed Speech clan; Yuta Okkotsu, who was related to Gojo Satoru; and Maki Zenin of the Zenin Family.

That kind of background roster could serve as the protagonist lineup in any other story, so there was no need to question their intelligence. He just hadn't expected her to roughly analyze the Sharingan's abilities after only one look.

Would they even be able to get along happily in the future?

She was making him look like an idiot.

"Not bad. My eyes do possess sharp perception and copying abilities, but that isn't all I have. Actually... I'm also a ninja!"

"..."

Maki Zenin looked at Natsu Hiraku as though she were looking at an idiot. Her lips moved a few times, as if she wanted to say something but stopped herself, her eyes filled with the concern one might show a mentally disabled person, as though she were saying:

"Did you just get discharged from the hospital with your nerves all messed up?"

"Give me a hundred thousand, and I'll breathe fire for you."

The moment Natsu Hiraku finished speaking, Maki Zenin rolled her eyes at him. Then she stood, picked up the naginata planted in the ground, and began swinging it again.

"Believe me or not, whatever."

After grumbling, Natsu Hiraku sat on the stone bench beside her and closed his eyes to rest, digesting what he had just learned. It was as though he had entered a separate dimension, watching Maki Zenin, who was right before him, wield her naginata.

Except everything here was under his control. He could slow down anything he couldn't understand, or rewind and watch it again. The terrifying aspect of the Sharingan was beginning to show itself.

The feel of the force was no different from reality. He could even sense the waves of cold wind produced by every swing.

After an unknown amount of time, Natsu Hiraku, already tired of watching, slowly opened his eyes. He looked at Maki Zenin, who was now running laps around the training ground, and at the naginata planted beside him.

For some reason, his body instinctively picked up the naginata from the ground and began to swing it. Before he knew it, his movements had become identical to those of Maki Zenin in his mind.

Although his movements were somewhat stiff at first, the Sharingan's fine adjustments barely allowed him to keep up with the rhythm, preventing any strange sense of lag.

After all, no matter how well he imitated her, their physical capabilities were different. For example, Maki Zenin could do the splits; if he tried, he would just tear his balls apart.

The physical gap between them was far too obvious. He could only make up for it by strengthening his body with cursed energy.

"No way! You copied it that quickly?!"

Maki Zenin, running nearby, recognized the martial technique Natsu Hiraku was using at a glance. Though there were slight differences, it was undoubtedly the very technique she had just demonstrated for him.

Anyone would be unhappy to see martial arts they had trained in for years learned by someone else in an instant. Maki Zenin was no exception. She was a competitive person; the fact that she still insisted on becoming a sorcerer despite having no cursed energy was proof enough.

What should she do when she was unhappy?

Obviously, drag him into a fight!

"Hey, come fight me."

Hearing Maki Zenin call out, Natsu Hiraku slowly stopped swinging the naginata. He looked around, saw that no one else was nearby, and pointed at himself with a puzzled expression.

"Me?"

"Yes. I'm a little annoyed today, and I want to beat you up."

Maki Zenin did not hide it in the slightest. She picked up the three-section staff beside the stone bench, a smile on her face.

"..."

"Gulp—"

Seeing that Maki Zenin was genuinely preparing to fight, Natsu Hiraku subconsciously swallowed. Thinking that he might get beaten until his head was covered in bumps, he immediately wanted to back out.

"Hey, we're classmates. How can you do this? Um... if there's nothing else, I'll be heading back first."

"Don't leave. Come fight!"

Maki Zenin showed no mercy whatsoever. Her three-section staff lashed out, the strike moving so fast it left an afterimage as it cut across Natsu Hiraku's cheek.

Red blood flowed from the wound and slowly dripped onto the ground. Seeing this, Natsu Hiraku understood that he had copied her technique too quickly and made her unhappy. If he chose to run away now, she would certainly look down on him from then on. That was something he did not want.

At this moment, there was only one option: fight.

"Fine, I get it. Let's fight in the training ground."

Natsu Hiraku gripped the naginata tightly and walked toward the center of the field. The tomoe in his scarlet pupils spun rapidly. If he wanted her recognition, he had to give it everything he had. If he went in half-heartedly and surrendered midway, then he might as well forget about ever fitting in here again.

And besides...

What better way was there to test the results of training than actual combat?

"If you don't give it everything you've got, I'll beat you to death!"

Maki Zenin looked at Natsu Hiraku ten meters away. His gaze held no trace of avoidance now; instead, he stared straight at her, as if saying, If you want to fight, then come.

Compared to the somewhat introverted Yuta Okkotsu, she preferred people like this—people who faced difficulties head-on.

"I know. Dying by your hand would be an honor. But I don't want to die right now, so I'll struggle with everything I have!"

After saying that, Natsu Hiraku tightened his grip on the Naginata and took his stance, ready for Maki Zenin's next attack.

"Not bad."

Watching Natsu Hiraku go all out, Maki Zenin swung her Three-section staff and charged straight at him, shouting, "Let me see how much you've copied from me!"

CLANG!

A crisp ring echoed between them.

From that first clash alone, the shock sent pain shooting through Natsu Hiraku's palms. If not for the support of cursed energy, he would have been sent flying already.

The Sharingan had also been pushed to its limit. At the very least, it could let him hold on for a few more minutes.

When Maki Zenin saw that her first strike had failed to finish him, one brow lifted. Then she suddenly exerted force and knocked Natsu Hiraku flying. The Three-section staff in her hand moved like an extension of her body—flexible and precise.

Every swing she made appeared within the Sharingan's predictions, but his body seemingly could not withstand combat of such intensity. A feeling of helplessness slowly rose in his heart.