Satoru Gojo's teaching style

The next day, at six in the morning.

A thin mist shrouded the training field. Dewdrops on the grass gleamed in the first light of dawn, as though tiny shards of glass covered the entire lawn.

Rihito got up early, washed, and hurried to the field.

He thought he would be the first to arrive, but just like last time, Maki was already there.

"Morning, Maki," Rihito greeted her.

"Morning." Maki nodded.

"Let's get started without waiting for the others." Rihito sounded impatient to begin the moment he approached.

Maki looked at him without a word, settled straight into a fighting stance, and beckoned him forward.

Rihito's fighting spirit surged, and he charged.

Unlike during their first training session, he no longer paused to think things through before moving. His body reacted the instant the thought formed, his push-off leaving a shallow mark in the turf.

Maki turned sideways.

Rihito's fist skimmed past her tracksuit, but this time he didn't pull it back. The instant his right fist missed, his left followed from another angle, leaving no gap between strikes.

"Better flow."

Maki's voice came from his left. She had already shifted position as he threw his left punch.

But this time, Rihito didn't let her grab him. He slid half a step to the right, just beyond her reach.

Her grab missed, leaving her hand suspended in midair.

"Not bad."

Unexpectedly, she didn't withdraw her hand. Instead, she stepped forward, using her momentum to drive her knee toward him.

"Oh, crap!"

Rihito had only just steadied himself when her knee reached his abdomen.

He knew he was in trouble. He pressed both hands down and took the knee strike head-on.

Thud!

The tremendous impact sent him sliding half a step backward, his soles scraping two dark green tracks across the grass.

But his upper body didn't sway. Both hands pressed firmly against Maki's knee, dissipating most of the force.

Maki glanced down at him and smiled faintly.

"Looks like that trip to the steelworks wasn't wasted."

She withdrew her right leg, but instead of putting distance between them, she pressed forward another step.

This time, her pace noticeably quickened, her attacks growing fierce.

Unsurprisingly, Rihito was forced back again and again.

Maki's punches and kicks alternated without pause, every strike targeting the spot that would most disrupt his balance.

He wanted to counterattack, but whenever he raised a fist, Maki's attack struck the joint he needed to generate force before he could act.

"Don't just think about hitting back." Maki landed a low sweeping kick against the outside of Rihito's calf, forcing him to adjust his stance. "Get your footing first. Then think about the rest."

Rihito gritted his teeth and forced himself to stop trying to counterattack.

He lowered his center of gravity, guarded his torso with both hands, and focused on blocking and dodging.

Maki's attacks remained relentless, but he no longer scrambled helplessly at every blow.

A dozen seconds later, Maki's rhythm suddenly faltered.

Rihito seized that half-beat opening, leaning forward to ram his shoulder into her chest.

Thud!

A dull impact sounded.

Maki was knocked back half a step.

"Not bad." Maki steadied herself and tossed her naginata aside. "Knowing when not to punch is harder than knowing when to punch."

Rihito panted, sweat sliding down his forehead, but his eyes shone brighter than before.

Before he could rest, a voice rang out.

"Thanks for the hard work, Maki!"

At the edge of the field, Satoru Gojo leaned against the rusty horizontal bar, his hands in his pockets and his head tilted as he looked their way.

Neither of them knew when he had arrived.

"Mr. Gojo!" Seeing Satoru Gojo, Rihito gave Maki an apologetic smile and walked over.

Maki understood what Rihito wanted. She nodded, turned, and glanced at Satoru Gojo.

Then she bent down, picked up her naginata, slung it over her shoulder, and walked off the field without looking back.

"He's all yours."

"So cold-" Satoru Gojo let out an exaggerated sigh, then straightened and walked toward Rihito.

Morning light shone from behind Satoru Gojo, casting a long, slender shadow across the ground. His blindfold covered his eyes, but Rihito could feel his gaze resting on him.

"Mr. Gojo." Rihito approached, his eyes full of anticipation. "I want to get stronger. Please help me."

Satoru Gojo nodded, looking entirely unsurprised.

Then he held out a hand.

"Maki's teaching is solid, but it's still just the basics. Rihito, it's about time you learned something real."

He raised one finger, his Cursed Technique gathering into a point of deep blue light at its tip.

"How to truly use your Cursed Technique."

How to truly use my Cursed Technique!

Rihito's heart jolted, then filled with elation.

Wasn't this exactly what I'd been dreaming of?

But he quickly forced down his joy, raised his head, and looked at Satoru Gojo with burning intensity.

"Mr. Gojo, are we starting now?"

Satoru Gojo paused. "Haha, you really do love learning, Rihito."

"Yep, we're starting now. Come with me!"

The buildings of Jujutsu High receded behind Rihito as Satoru Gojo grabbed him and raced into the distance, finally stopping before a stretch of woods he had never visited.

"We're here, Rihito."

With his feet back on solid ground, Rihito looked around.

The woods were dense. Sunlight filtered through layers of foliage into scattered patches, and the air carried a smell of decay entirely unlike the steelworks.

It was the smell of wood and soil that had been left to molder for far too long.

"Mr. Gojo, this place is..."

"Shh." Satoru Gojo raised a finger, his voice very quiet and an inscrutable smile on his lips. "Listen."

Rihito held his breath.

At first, there was nothing.

Then a low whimper drifted from the deepest part of the woods, like wind passing through a hollow, rotten trunk, or some enormous creature turning over in its sleep.

Rihito's body reacted before his mind did. Cursed Energy poured uncontrollably from his fists.

"Not bad. Your percep-

tion is sharper than before." Satoru Gojo patted his shoulder, then fished a crumpled mission sheet from his pocket and casually unfolded it.

"There's a Grade 1 Cursed Spirit hiding in these woods. Apparently, this is where the people who went missing in the nearby mountains ended up. I was supposed to deal with it-"

He shoved the mission sheet into Rihito's arms.

"Now you get to handle it."

"...Huh?"

Rihito instinctively caught the paper and glanced down at the mission details.

When he looked up again, Satoru Gojo had already retreated ten meters away. He leaned against a tree with his arms crossed, wearing an expression that said, "Go ahead. Show me what you've got."

"Mr. Gojo, isn't this a little too..."

"Relax." Satoru Gojo interrupted him, his tone as casual as if he were commenting on how good today's dessert was. "I'll keep an eye on you. You won't die. Probably."

Rihito fell silent for a second.

"...'Probably'?"

The next second, the whimpering deep in the woods turned into a growl.

Fallen leaves began trembling on the ground, bouncing up one after another as though something enormous were pushing its way up from underground.

Rihito took a deep breath, folded the mission sheet, tucked it into his pocket, and turned to face the rapidly approaching fluctuations of Cursed Energy.

Behind him, Satoru Gojo's voice drifted lazily over.

"Rihito, think about what your technique really is at its core. And give it your best!"

Rihito didn't look back, but he couldn't stop the corner of his mouth from twitching.

"Mr. Gojo's teaching style really is just like in the original. Whatever. Let's do this!"

Then he settled into his fighting stance.