Teaching (4k)

By the time she returned to the apartment, it was completely dark.

Mashiro stood in the entryway for a moment. After the Tide Echo mission, she had used her Water Control Cursed Technique to dry her clothes and hair, but the salt had remained.

Her collar scraped against the back of her neck with a gritty roughness, and her cuffs felt just as uncomfortable against her wrists.

Unbearable. I can't stand another second of this.

She hurried into the bathroom, quickly stripped naked, and tossed her clothes into the laundry basket.

She turned on the shower. Hot water struck the top of her head, flowing down her silver hair and over her shoulders and back.

The water washed her skin clean. The salt in her hair dissolved in the heat and was rinsed away.

She closed her eyes and stood perfectly still for a good while, simply enjoying it.

Steam soon filled the bathroom, and the mist on the mirror grew thicker. She let out a long, deep breath, her whole body relaxing.

Mashiro tilted her head and pulled her hair over her chest to inspect the ends. It had grown again. After the water blade had cut it that morning, it had only reached her shoulders; now it was nearly down to her shoulder blades.

She squeezed out some of her new body wash. Mandarin orange.

When she and Kugisaki had visited the convenience store last time, Kugisaki had said it smelled nice. She had said she didn't care, but bought it anyway.

All the wounds from her earlier battle had disappeared. The dozens of cuts the water blades had left on her arms were gone without even the faintest trace.

She raised an arm for a closer look. Beneath the foam, her skin was smooth and unbroken. Her fingertips brushed the spot where the deepest cut had been, and it felt no different from the surrounding skin.

Her body seemed to have undergone more changes after leveling up. She closed her eyes and assessed herself. Her physical abilities had probably improved across the board.

I'll go to Jujutsu High tomorrow and test it properly. For now, I'll keep enjoying my hot shower.

She emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a bath towel, with another towel around her hair. Even pressed beneath it, a few silver strands stuck out around the edges, clinging to the damp back of her neck.

Dripping water gathered into a small puddle by her feet. She raised a hand, rapidly drawing the moisture out of her hair and gathering it into a fist-sized water sphere in her palm. Within seconds, her silver hair went from soaking wet to dry and fluffy, with a small tuft curling up at the ends.

She casually tossed the water sphere into the sink, then looked at herself in the mirror.

Now completely dry, her silver hair was extremely fluffy. The ends flipped outward, and a few strands stood straight up on top.

She pressed them down, but they sprang back up. After a few attempts, she gave up.

Damn it. Mere hair, openly challenging its owner's authority in front of the mirror. I'll let you off this time.

The next morning, Mashiro arrived early at Jujutsu High's training ground.

The training ground was deserted in the early morning, with yesterday's footprints still marking the sand.

She had come to test how much her physical abilities had improved.

She walked over to a wooden post at the edge of the training ground, pressed her palm against its surface, and slowly applied pressure. The wood began to crack, fissures spreading outward from the center of her palm.

She withdrew her hand and pressed a single finger against the post instead. Force flowed through her fingertip, sinking half a millimeter into the wood and leaving a neatly shaped dent.

Hmm. My precision in controlling my strength has improved too.

Her overall defense and explosive power had probably reached the level of a heavenly restriction. With cursed energy reinforcement, they would be even higher.

She mentally compared herself to Maki Zenin. They felt about equal.

Then she held out her hand, palm up. Murasame shifted from intangible to solid, a silver blade extending from her palm until fully manifested.

Indeed, Murasame had evolved too. Murasame could now shift between intangible and solid forms, not only offering unexpected uses in battle but also sparing her the need to carry a sword everywhere.

She drew Murasame back into her body. Next came testing her techniques.

She condensed a water sphere from the air, compressed it into a water needle, and fired it at the wooden post, leaving a pin-sized hole.

Then she spread out a transparent Water Wall roughly half a person's height.

She added sonic vibrations to the Water Wall. The frequency of the molecular vibrations across its surface instantly doubled, raising its defensive strength by at least a full tier.

She formed another water needle in her palm, this time adding high-frequency vibrations to its tip. The hole it shot into the post was nearly twice as deep as the first. That took care of penetration too.

Footsteps sounded from the training ground's entrance. Itadori and Kugisaki had arrived.

"Mashiro? You're here early." He wore workout clothes, one sleeve still half rolled up.

Kugisaki saw Mashiro standing by the wooden post, then noticed the neat row of needle holes in it. "...When did you get here?"

"Just now." Mashiro turned away from the post.

Itadori stepped closer to inspect the holes and used his hand to gauge their depth. After a brief silence, he asked, "What did you use to make these?"

"Water needles." Mashiro formed one in her hand, then dispersed it.

The corner of Kugisaki's mouth twitched. "What's this, a new technique?"

"Yes."

"The last hole is twice as deep."

"I added sonic vibrations."

"Two techniques?"

"That's right."

Kugisaki stared at her expressionless face and gave up on asking more questions.

Fushiguro arrived last, with a Divine Dog at his feet. He glanced at the needle holes in the wooden post, his gaze lingering briefly on the deepest one at the end before turning to Mashiro. "New technique?"

Mashiro nodded.

Fushiguro's mouth twitched. He crouched down and let the Divine Dog sniff the water stains around the post.

The Divine Dog sneezed and shook its head.

Fushiguro stood up, his tone level. "Next time, you could post what you're planning to test in the group chat beforehand. That way, we won't have to inspect the post and guess what you've done every time we arrive."

"Then there wouldn't be any surprises," Mashiro said, looking at Kugisaki.

Kugisaki rolled her eyes at Fushiguro. "Don't encourage her. My confidence has taken enough hits already."

After the three warmed up, training officially began.

Mashiro stood in the center of the field and raised her right hand, forming a water sphere in her palm. At the sight of it, Kugisaki reflexively tightened her grip on her hammer.

"I'm not using you as a target today," Mashiro said. "I'm teaching you how to form nails out of cursed energy."

Kugisaki froze for a moment. Itadori stopped warming up and turned to look. Fushiguro raised his eyes too.

"Form nails out of cursed energy?"

"Yes. Don't you find physical nails inconvenient?" Mashiro compressed the water sphere in her hand, stretching it into a slender needle that floated above her palm. "Water needles have the advantage of an unlimited supply of material, but they're not as strong as metal. Cursed energy nails work on a similar principle. You replace the water with cursed energy and condense it into a solid form."

She dismissed the water needle and gathered cursed energy above her palm, compressing it until it became a slender blue nail.

Kugisaki studied the cursed energy nail, her expression turning focused.

"Understand?"

"I understand what I'm seeing, but actually doing it seems pretty hard." She tried channeling cursed energy through the Straw Doll Technique, but it refused to take shape and eventually dispersed.

"You're approaching it wrong." Mashiro watched Kugisaki's hand. "The nails are only a medium for your technique. Using the technique to form them is taking the long way around."

"Simply shape the cursed energy first, then apply your technique to it. That makes it much easier."

"Shape the cursed energy first," Kugisaki repeated, then pulled a nail from its holder and placed it in her palm. "Normally, my cursed energy just coats the nail. Its shape isn't fixed, so it doesn't require much control."

"Right. So your priority now is improving your control over cursed energy." Mashiro nodded. "Not only that, once you're using cursed energy nails, you can directly control the energy to produce vibrations."

"Meaning I won't even need a hammer! And I can trigger the effects remotely." Kugisaki's eyes lit up, and she made her first attempt.

Cursed energy gathered in her palm, then burst apart the instant she tried to compress it.

Itadori took half a step back. Fushiguro held the Divine Dog's head to stop it from coming closer. The burst of air tousled Kugisaki's hair, and she opened her hand to inspect her palm, slightly reddened by the recoil.

Mashiro nodded. "This just takes practice. You won't master it overnight."

Itadori sat cross-legged on the sand, propping his face on his hand as he watched her attempts. After a good while, he extended a hand and tentatively turned it palm up. "Can I try?"

"You haven't learned to release cursed energy externally yet," Kugisaki said. Her tone was calmer than usual, but a faint sheen of sweat had formed between her brows.

Itadori withdrew his hand, shifted position, and kept watching.

Fushiguro turned toward Itadori and said evenly, "We haven't trained yet today."

Itadori stood up, brushed the sand off his pants, and grinned at Mashiro. "Mashiro, how are we training today?"

"Unarmed combat. No techniques."

Kugisaki moved to the edge of the field, planning to watch them spar while continuing to practice shaping cursed energy.

Fushiguro had the Divine Dog lie down beside the wooden post, then loosened his wrists.

Itadori took his opening stance, left foot forward and center of gravity lowered.

Mashiro simply stood in the middle of the field, her arms hanging naturally at her sides.

Itadori moved first.

A small spray of sand burst behind his heel as he pushed off. In an instant, he was in front of Mashiro, his cursed-energy-coated right fist driving straight at her face.

This punch was faster than during their last training session, cutting through the air with a dull thump.

Mashiro tilted her head and dodged.

The rush of air brushed past her ear, lifting a few strands of silver hair.

She shifted her right foot half a step back and raised her left hand, striking the inside of Itadori's wrist and using his momentum to guide him sideways.

Itadori's balance shifted, but rather than retracting his fist, he twisted his waist with the deflection and swung his left elbow at Mashiro's temple.

Mashiro raised her forearm to block. His elbow struck it with a dull thud, but her feet didn't move an inch.

Then she turned her hand over, caught Itadori's left arm, and pressed down, forcing his upper body forward.

He immediately drew back his right fist and swung it upward from below, aiming at Mashiro's chin.

Mashiro released him and hopped half a step back. Itadori's fist skimmed past less than two centimeters from her chin.

"You're faster than last time," Mashiro said.

Itadori didn't answer. He was adjusting his breathing.

Those three exchanges had taken less than two seconds. He had pushed his offensive tempo to the limit, yet Mashiro had only used her left hand and her feet. Her right hand hadn't even left her side.

Fushiguro spoke from the sidelines. "She's watching how you generate force."

"Got it." Itadori lowered his center of gravity again. This time, he would change his rhythm.

On his second attack, Itadori threw four seamless punches-left, right, left, right. Before one punch had finished recovering, the next was already on its way.

Mashiro blocked them all with her left hand, catching each punch with her palm or forearm. Every contact produced a short, dull thump.

Then Itadori changed his rhythm. Halfway through his fourth punch, he abruptly pulled back his power, shifted his whole body to the left, and swept his right leg toward Mashiro's ankle.

Mashiro lifted her foot and stepped onto his sweeping shin, using it to propel herself a step forward. She pressed her left index and middle fingers together against his forehead.

Itadori froze. He was standing on one foot, his right leg pinned and unable to move.

He grinned and raised both hands. "I surrender."

Mashiro withdrew her hand and stepped back a few paces.

Fushiguro walked into the center of the field. Itadori retreated to sit beside the Divine Dog and scratched its head.

Kugisaki had stopped moving quite some time ago. She had watched the entire sparring match.

The fight had ended very quickly. From Mashiro countering Itadori's three moves to reading his second flurry of attacks, less than two minutes had passed.

Mashiro had used only her left hand and two footwork movements throughout. In their training bout, Itadori's attack patterns had been completely dissected.

"Teacher Mashiro, please enlighten me," Itadori said.

"Your rhythm is too rigid." Mashiro walked over to him. "Every punch follows a fixed rhythm. In the first sequence, the intervals were about three-tenths of a second. In the second, you suddenly sped up to one-tenth of a second. In the third, you pulled back halfway through. You're deliberately controlling it."

"Is controlling my rhythm wrong?"

"Not wrong, but the more deliberately you control it, the more regular the intervals become. Regular means predictable."

She traced a line through the air with a finger. "Your problem right now is that the path of your force is too obvious. Your shoulder moves before you punch, and you look at your target before attacking. If Fushiguro can see it, so can an enemy."

Itadori scratched his head, making his pink hair even messier. "Then how do I fix it?"

"First, learn to stop thinking."

"What?"

"Judging from that exercise, your current attack patterns are designed."

"That kind of carefully controlled rhythm works against ordinary enemies, but against someone good at analyzing an opponent's patterns, it becomes a weakness instead."

"Don't plan your attacks in advance. Watch your opponent's attacks and let your body decide where to strike next, how to do it, and how much power to use. Your muscle memory is faster than your brain. In a real fight, thinking already puts you half a step behind."

Itadori stared for a moment, then slowly nodded. "Don't think...let my body fight on its own."

He looked down at his fists, slowly clenching and unclenching them.

Kugisaki had watched the entire exchange from the sidelines. The cursed energy nail in her hand kept bursting apart, and she kept starting over, but her eyes never left the field.

Mashiro walked over to her. "You keep getting distracted watching us spar. Focus on shaping a cursed energy nail first. You need one success before you can have a second."

Kugisaki took a deep breath, shook out her numb fingers, and started again.

This time, she didn't watch Itadori and Fushiguro continuing their training. Her eyes stayed fixed on her palm.

Cursed energy gathered and swirled in her palm. She gritted her teeth and sharply compressed it.

A blue nail took shape above her palm. It trembled three times, held for about seven seconds, then dispersed.

Kugisaki stared at the empty air where it had been, then shouted, "I did it!"

The shout distracted Itadori, and Fushiguro punched him in the shoulder. He stumbled back two exaggerated steps, then immediately turned toward Kugisaki. "You made one?"

Kugisaki looked at her palm. Although the cursed energy nail had dispersed, those seven seconds had been real.

Mashiro watched Kugisaki's expression shift from disbelief to delight, and the corners of her mouth lifted. "Not bad."