Secret Training (4k)

Itadori blinked, looking at Satoru Gojo, then at Mashiro.

He waited for one of them to say they were joking, but neither did.

"Secret training," he repeated, checking hesitantly. "So I can't go to class? Can't go to the cafeteria? Can't go outside?"

"Correct," Satoru Gojo said.

"Then can I..."

"Whatever it is, no."

Itadori's face fell. He sighed and said helplessly, "Okay, okay, I'm in."

Then he looked at the holes in Mashiro's clothes. "Mashiro, you still haven't changed."

"And whose fault do you think that is?"

"Sorry, sorry. How did things go in Saitama?"

"Handled." She stood up. "Semi-Special Grade, exorcised. Worry about your own training first."

Itadori opened his mouth. Semi-Special Grade. Mashiro had already gotten that strong.

He couldn't fall behind either!

Satoru Gojo picked his sunglasses up from the back of the chair and wiped the lenses with the hem of his shirt.

"While the Higher-Ups still think Shoko is handling Yuji's body, I'll take him to the underground training room to get him settled in. Mashiro, go home and change."

He paused, his gaze lingering on the tears in her clothes behind his sunglasses. "Take a shower while you're at it."

"You don't have to tell me."

"Ahaha, scary." Satoru Gojo slid his sunglasses back onto his nose and beckoned to Itadori. "Let's go, Yuji. The underground training room is pretty nice. No windows, but there's a bed and a fridge. Better than your sister's empty apartment."

"I heard that," Mashiro said.

"You were supposed to."

Itadori grinned and followed Satoru Gojo out of the treatment room.

The footsteps in the corridor gradually faded. Mashiro stood there for a moment before turning to Shoko. Only now did she have a chance to speak properly.

"Shoko."

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

"Repairing a heart isn't difficult, and I didn't really do anything." Shoko leaned against the treatment table and removed her gloves. "He woke up on his own."

"Yeah."

"I saw how you reacted when his fingers moved after you rushed back from Saitama." Shoko tossed the disposable gloves into the trash. "Reverse Cursed Technique can repair any physical injury, but no technique can guarantee resurrection. You were certain he'd wake up before he actually did."

Mashiro didn't answer.

"I wouldn't call that intuition." Shoko stood, took a fresh blanket from the cabinet, folded it, and put it back. "You're just like your brother. Neither of you is normal."

Mashiro walked to the door and paused with her hand on the handle. "Either way, thank you."

"You're welcome." Shoko didn't look up. "Just don't slam into the door next time."

Mashiro closed the door and headed down the corridor toward the exit.

As she passed the nurses' station, she saw a small potted plant she didn't recognize on the windowsill, its leaves gleaming under the corridor lights.

Kugisaki's room was on the second floor.

Kugisaki was awake when Mashiro pushed the door open, propped up in bed with bandages around her head. A small section of the brace supporting her ribs showed beneath her hospital gown.

Fushiguro wasn't there. An opened bag of fruit candy and a magazine with only a few pages turned sat on the bedside table.

When Kugisaki saw her, the cup in her hand stopped moving.

Her gaze swept over the tears in Mashiro's clothes before settling on her face, colder than usual.

After a few seconds of silence, Kugisaki set down her cup. "...You came back from Saitama?"

"Yeah."

"What about Itadori?"

Faced with that question, Mashiro fell silent for a moment, considering how to answer.

She had to hide the fact that Yuji was alive, but she didn't want to say outright that he was dead.

Wouldn't that be lying?

But Kugisaki took her silence to mean something else.

She drew a deep breath, struggling to suppress a sob. "I understand."

What exactly do you understand?

Mashiro's mouth twitched. Never mind. It was better if she misunderstood.

When Yuji came back, Mashiro could just tell her she'd misunderstood.

Nothing would stick to her.

Kugisaki lowered her head, her fingers clenching the edge of the bedsheet. "I'm sorry, Mashiro, I..."

She stopped.

Because Mashiro had picked a yellow candy from the bag on the bedside table, unwrapped it, and held it out to her.

Kugisaki looked at the candy, then at Mashiro.

"Lemon," Mashiro said. "Better than strawberry."

Kugisaki took it but didn't eat it. She clenched it tightly in her palm, her nails digging into the wrapper with a faint, delicate crackle.

"Take me along on your next mission," she said. Her voice was no longer subdued; she was back to being her usual self, Nobara Kugisaki. "Once this comes off, I'm getting stronger."

Mashiro nodded.

Kugisaki kept her head lowered, her thumb repeatedly rubbing the lemon candy she hadn't yet eaten.

The creases in the wrapper flattened, then crumpled again. Then she unwrapped the candy, popped it into her mouth, and crunched down hard twice.

"...Too sour."

"Lemon candy is supposed to be sour."

Kugisaki covered her eyes, wiping gently with the back of her hand. Her voice was muffled. "Yeah."

Mashiro stood and walked to the door, then looked back. "Focus on recovering. Once you're stronger, I'll come test your progress."

"Just you wait." Kugisaki's voice came through her fingers, firm and determined. "Don't hold back then."

"Got it." Mashiro opened the door. "I'll make you stronger."

After leaving Jujutsu High through the main gate, Mashiro didn't go straight home.

She walked to the vending machine beside the crosswalk outside the gate and stared at the row of canned coffees for a while.

The latte was on the top row, second from the right-the same one Nanami had bought her last time.

She inserted two coins, pressed the button, and bent down to retrieve the can. When she pulled the tab, it hissed, a wisp of white vapor rising from the opening.

She leaned against the vending machine and took a small sip. She was gradually getting used to the sweetness beneath the bitterness.

The phone in her pocket vibrated.

Three LINE messages from Kento Nanami.

"Nanami": The automated dispatch order for the Juvenile Detention Center mission originated from a physical terminal in the Affairs Department's third-floor server room. The room's access records show no card swipes during the dispatch period.

"Nanami": The authorization command came from a backup terminal. The login belonged to an employee who left two years ago. The account was activated twelve hours before the mission was dispatched and deactivated immediately afterward.

"Nanami": The Saitama emergency mission was issued from the same terminal during the same period. The Kyoto meeting notice bears the Affairs Department chief's authorization. He requested sick leave the day before and temporarily delegated his authority to the deputy chief. The deputy chief said he signed on his behalf according to procedure. The chief had prepared the agenda documents in advance.

Mashiro read the three messages and set her coffee aside, her thumb hovering above the screen for a moment.

"Mashiro": Got it. What's the chief's name?

"Nanami": Sakakibara Shigeru. Sixty-two, twenty-one years in the Affairs Department. Administrative staff, no cursed technique. He requested sick leave for hypertension three days ago. His medical record is on file at St. Luke's International Hospital.

"Nanami": One more detail. The medical record was issued at nine that morning, but the leave request email was sent at eleven the previous night.

"Mashiro": Got it.

Mashiro stared at Nanami's last message.

Eleven the previous night-several hours before she received the emergency mission in Saitama, before the Juvenile Detention Center mission was entered into the system.

The chief had already known he'd need a medical record the next day. He hadn't been brought in at the last minute. He was the first link in the entire plan.

Mashiro was about to close the chat when another message arrived.

"Nanami": Be careful.

She smiled faintly, replied with a brief acknowledgment, then forwarded the chat history to Satoru Gojo.

Mashiro drained the rest of her coffee, tossed the empty can into the trash, and headed toward her apartment.

When she opened the apartment door, the entryway was just as she'd left it in her rush yesterday morning.

The empty lunch box Itadori had brought two days ago sat on the shoe cabinet, its lid askew, revealing a corner of dried omelet crumbs.

She bent down, picked up the lunch box, and went into the kitchen to turn on the tap. Hot water steamed against its sides. She squeezed out too much detergent, and suds spread everywhere.

She stared at the suds for a while, turned off the water, and wiped the foam splashed onto her wrist with the back of her hand before turning the tap back on to rinse it clean.

She dried the lunch box and put it in the cupboard, then stood against the counter for a moment. Opening the fridge, she took out a bottle of water, unscrewed the cap, and drank half.

Half a box of strawberries remained in the fridge. Itadori had brought them the last time he'd come to cook. The leaves were a little wilted, but the fruit hadn't spoiled. She picked one up and took a bite.

Sweet.

There would be no sukiyaki tonight, no lunch box tomorrow, no doorbell at seven the morning after.

She'd lived alone for a long time and had spent less than a week in this apartment, but during those days when Itadori brought breakfast every morning, she'd grown used to that doorbell.

Used to a boy standing at her door, telling her they were having omelet today, handing over a lunch box, then asking her to save him dinner.

It had taken only a week to grow used to it. She didn't know how many days it would take to break the habit.

Wait, maybe I don't need to?

It suddenly occurred to her that the Sister-School Exchange Event was only a few days away anyway. She could just wait a few days.

Very insightful.

Her phone vibrated on the coffee table. Satoru Gojo had replied.

"Satoru Gojo": Got the name. Sakakibara's predecessor was promoted to Jujutsu Headquarters two years ago. He's one of the three names I mentioned earlier.

"Satoru Gojo": Yuji's settled in. The underground training room has been cleaned up. I'll train him personally for now.

"Satoru Gojo": The official report says he died on the Juvenile Detention Center mission and Shoko has disposed of his remains. The Window's report will be entered into the system in a few hours.

Mashiro looked at the screen.

Yuji Itadori was dead. That would go into the official records, becoming a single line in Jujutsu High's files.

Kugisaki thought he was dead. Fushiguro had watched him die. Starting tomorrow, all of Jujutsu Society would receive the same news.

It was also the signal for their counterattack to begin.

"Mashiro": Got it. Help me keep Kugisaki in the dark. Yuji can explain it to her himself when he comes out.

"Satoru Gojo": What did you tell her?

"Mashiro": She misunderstood on her own. I just didn't deny it.

"Satoru Gojo": ...

"Satoru Gojo": The way you handle being a big sister really is...

"Satoru Gojo": Fine. Let Yuji deal with the headache when the time comes.

"Mashiro": I never said he was dead, so it's not my problem.

"Satoru Gojo": Okay, okay, okay.

"Satoru Gojo": Fushiguro asked me to tell you he won't let anyone stay behind to cover a retreat again.

"Satoru Gojo": He looked very serious when he said it. I think you can look forward to seeing him grow.

"Mashiro": I hope so.

She turned her phone facedown on the coffee table, then sat on the sofa for a long time.

The living room was quiet. Tokyo's nightscape stretched beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the trees in the distant direction of Jujutsu High cast uneven shadows beneath the streetlights.

The stars were never visible in Tokyo's sky. Occasionally, a car passed below, its high beams sweeping across the curtains before disappearing.

She slumped over the sofa's armrest, burying her face in her arms. Her silver hair spread across half her face, her breaths trapped between fabric and skin, growing slow and warm.

She didn't sleep. She just lay there, letting her body sink into the soft cushions, emptying the body and mind she'd kept on the move for two days.

Half an hour later, she sat up, picked up her phone, and reopened her chat with Satoru Gojo.

"Mashiro": Let me know as soon as the Higher-Ups react.

The reply came quickly.

"Satoru Gojo": Understood. Get some rest first.

"Mashiro": One more question.

"Satoru Gojo": Go ahead.

"Mashiro": Sakakibara Shigeru got his medical record at eleven the previous night, but the Juvenile Detention Center mission wasn't dispatched until the following day.

"Mashiro": So he knew in advance that a mission would be entered into the system the next day, but he didn't know which mission.

"Satoru Gojo": Right. His only jobs were arranging sick leave, issuing the meeting notice, and handing his authority over to the deputy chief. Someone else dispatched the Juvenile Detention Center and Saitama missions.

"Satoru Gojo": The former employee's account, the backup terminal, no card swipes into the server room-that was all the same group pulling the strings.

"Mashiro": So there are two groups.

"Satoru Gojo": At least two. One to get you and me out of the way, another to send Yuji to his death.

"Satoru Gojo": The first is the chief and his superior. The second group is more professional. They know how to erase server room records and activate an ex-employee's account, then discard it after use. Not many people can do that.

Mashiro read the message.

"Mashiro": Can you investigate?

"Satoru Gojo": Yes, but it'll take time. The Higher-Ups are all waiting to see how I react. Making a major move now would tell them how much I know.

"Satoru Gojo": You want revenge for Yuji. So do I. But we have to wait for the right moment.

"Mashiro": Have I ever told you I hate politics?

"Satoru Gojo": You don't have to. It's obvious.

"Mashiro": Then I'll say it today.

"Satoru Gojo": Hm?

"Mashiro": I can't control what they do to other people. But if they come after the people around me, they can wait to die.

"Satoru Gojo": Scary. You've got more killing intent today than on all your previous missions combined.

"Mashiro": I haven't even made a move yet.

"Satoru Gojo": Count me in when the time comes. Good night.

Mashiro set her phone on the coffee table, got up, and walked to the kitchen to drink another glass of water.

Nothing outside the window had changed, but her mind was a little clearer than before.

The Higher-Ups still assessed Mashiro as a Grade 1 Jujutsu Sorcerer who could copy Cursed Techniques, so they had only sent a single Semi-Special Grade.

But now they would discover that a Semi-Special Grade wasn't enough to hold her back, let alone kill her. The next time they made a move, they wouldn't make the same mistake.

Mashiro summoned Murasame, drew the blade, and wiped it down.

Her own face was reflected in the silvery blade. As she looked at it, she spoke softly to Murasame.

"Wait a little longer. Once I've gotten to the bottom of everything, I'll let you kill to your heart's content."

I've seen that many dear readers have questions, so I'll be doing Q&As in the author's notes over the next few chapters, meow.