Shifting Winds

On the top floor of an abandoned hotel.

Kenjaku sat on the windowsill, holding a game piece between his thumb and forefinger.

On the floor of the room behind him, Mahito sat cross-legged, both arms fully regenerated.

He was leafing through a paperback with a curled cover and repeatedly dog-eared pages.

He turned two pages, then yawned.

"So boring." He tossed the paperback aside. It struck the corner of the wall and bounced back. "When's Jogo going to wake up? At least I'd have someone to talk to."

In the corner, fresh shoots kept sprouting from the stump of Hanami's left arm, only to wither again.

Mashiro's cursed energy had invaded Hanami's right arm, continually damaging the wound.

Hanami could only repeat this cycle, repairing its body little by little.

Half of Jogo's body lay in the very center of the room.

Murasame had drained most of his cursed energy. The few seconds the blade had remained inside him after piercing him had been more lethal than the spatial rift that had torn his body apart.

There was no chance he would recover enough to appear at the exchange event.

Mahito pushed himself upright on the floor. He glanced at Jogo, then looked up at Kenjaku.

"Can Jogo still make it in time for the plan in his current condition?"

"He definitely won't make the exchange event." Kenjaku rolled the piece between his fingertips. "He has no more than thirty percent of his cursed energy left. That's probably the work of Kujo Mashiro's sword."

"Mashiro, Kujo Mashiro." An excited smile spread across Mahito's face again at the mention of her.

"She's so interesting. My ability has no effect on her soul at all. I could still sense it the first time, but the second time I touched her, I couldn't even sense its shape."

The corners of Kenjaku's mouth lifted slightly, and he returned the piece to the board.

"It seems we'll have to give the third condition higher priority. Kujo Mashiro is a greater obstacle to the plan than expected."

Mahito straightened his cross-legged posture, then leaned so far forward that his face nearly reached Kenjaku's. "Then how about I go find her again? Last time, I was too busy getting ready to run to give her a proper fight. Her type of cursed technique is a pain. I can't break through her defenses, and Idle Transfiguration doesn't work on her, but if I can find a weakness in her technique..."

"As far as I know, Sukuna's vessel is her younger brother, and they're very close."

Kenjaku quietly moved a little farther away, cutting him off.

Even Hanami looked over at that.

Kenjaku stood and slowly paced around the room. "In other words, going after Sukuna's vessel will let us influence Kujo Mashiro."

"Huh? But Sukuna's vessel is at that Jujutsu High place, right?" Mahito tilted his head. "That Satoru Gojo is there too. We can't handle him."

"That's where you come in, Mahito."

"Me?" Mahito paused.

"It's time to expand the scope of your experiments."

"Really?!" Mahito spun around in his chair. "So we increase the number of test subjects to draw him out, right?"

Kenjaku nodded and walked over to the windowsill. Then, as though something had occurred to him, he added, "There's something I want you to confirm about Kujo Mashiro."

"What?"

"Whether Kujo Mashiro's cursed technique really is Copy."

Kenjaku picked up a piece from the board and toyed with it in his hand. "If it's what I suspect... then she's worth more than Sukuna's vessel."

Mahito blinked. "More than Sukuna?"

Kenjaku did not answer. He merely smiled and nodded.

Mahito did not dwell on it. He was already on his feet, brushing the dust from his pants as he headed for the door.

"Then I'm off to run some experiments!"

He disappeared into the stairwell, his footsteps descending one step at a time, fading into the distance.

The training room at Jujutsu High.

Mashiro sat in the middle of the couch, her hands folded in her lap.

She sat very properly, but she was so short that her feet could not reach the floor. Her toes dangled over the edge of the couch, swaying gently.

Across from her sat Satoru Gojo, taking up two-thirds of the entire couch with his legs crossed. One hand rested on the backrest, while the other held an unopened can of soda.

Yuji Itadori and Kento Nanami stood off to the side, leaning against the wall.

"Other than Mahito, the rest of them probably won't cause trouble before the exchange event."

Mashiro spoke softly as she looked at the rarely assembled group before her.

Satoru Gojo sat across from her with his legs crossed, taking up two seats all by himself.

Meanwhile, Yuji Itadori and Kento Nanami stood off to the side, leaning against the wall.

Satoru Gojo bobbed his crossed leg. "Mahito? That sicko?"

Mashiro nodded and shared what she knew. "Mahito is a curse born from the hatred and fear humans feel toward other humans."

"His cursed technique, Idle Transfiguration, can alter the shape of a target's soul."

"The shape of their soul?" Itadori tilted his head, puzzled. "What does changing the shape of a soul do?"

Mashiro said nothing. She held out her hand and spread her fingers.

Several balls of water formed above her palm, then were precisely molded into human figures. The transparent liquid flowed constantly along their edges, maintaining their outlines.

"With his technique, the shape of the soul dictates the shape of the body."

Her fingers shifted slightly, and the human-shaped balls of water began to deform.

Their arms stretched longer and longer, extra lumps bulged at their joints, their legs caved inward, their torsos twisted, and their heads split down the middle.

Within three seconds, a human-shaped mass of water had become a monstrous aberration.

"He can turn humans into this. Even jujutsu sorcerers will fall victim after he touches them a few times."

Nanami leaned against the wall with his arms folded.

Silence lingered in the training room for about three seconds.

Satoru Gojo's expression grew serious as well. "Is there a way to turn them back?"

Mashiro shook her head. The balls of water dispersed into mist and mingled with the air. "Not as far as I know."

Satoru Gojo scratched his head and sighed. "I have to head overseas in the next few days."

Itadori looked at Satoru Gojo in surprise. "You're going overseas, Sensei?"

"To see someone named Yuta Okkotsu." Satoru Gojo paused. "He's a year above you, so he's your senior."

Itadori blinked. "Is he strong?"

"Special Grade." Satoru Gojo's mouth curved back into his usual smile. "Very strong."

Itadori's mouth formed an O.

"So I'm leaving this to you." Satoru Gojo stood and looked at Nanami. "Take him along to investigate that sicko over the next few days, Nanami."

"If he starts experimenting, there'll be transfigured victims. Their locations and eyewitness reports should help you work out the area he's operating in."

Nanami nodded, then looked at Itadori. "Field training, Yuji Itadori. This isn't practicing cursed energy control in a basement. You'll be learning to assess situations, track enemies, and protect targets in a real environment. Every step could mean the difference between life and death."

"So it's actual combat?" Itadori asked.

"It is."

Itadori straightened. "Understood!"

Mashiro hopped off the couch. She walked over to Itadori and told him uneasily, "You're their target. Try not to get separated from Nanami while you're out."

Listening to Mashiro fuss over him like a mother, Itadori scratched the back of his head with a helpless look. "I know, Mashiro."