Chapter 183: New Bonds
To fill the gap left in Tokyo Jujutsu High's combat strength after Suguru Geto's departure, and to prepare for the disasters that awaited them in the future, Yami began devoting even more time to the younger students.
The underground training ground soon became a place of endless impacts, shouts, and exhausted groans.
"Too slow. Faster!"
Bang!
"Nanami, you're relying on brute force again. Your breathing is already out of rhythm. How are you supposed to concentrate your Cursed Energy properly like that?"
Yami stood at the center of the training ground with a wooden sword in one hand.
His movements seemed almost casual.
He was not using a trace of Cursed Energy.
Even so, every swing found a flaw in Kento Nanami or Yu Haibara's stance with frightening precision.
Bang!
Nanami was struck across the guard and sent crashing into the wall.
He slid to the floor, gasping heavily.
Every muscle in his body ached.
Yet behind his goggles, his eyes burned with an intensity he had never possessed before.
Yami's training was brutal.
But it worked.
Both Nanami and Haibara were improving at a shocking rate.
Nanami in particular received specialized physical training built around the strengths and weaknesses of his Ratio Technique.
"Your Cursed Technique lets you forcibly create a weak point at a seven to three ratio."
Yami stood across from him, wooden sword resting against his shoulder.
"That is an excellent technique."
Nanami listened without moving.
"But your technique is still only a tool."
Yami tapped his own chest.
"Your body is what carries it."
"If you cannot react fast enough to reach the weak point, the technique means nothing."
"If your body cannot withstand repeated bursts of speed and power, then knowing where to strike will not save you."
Nanami lowered his gaze toward the blunt sword in his hand.
"Understand?"
"Yes."
"Good. Then get up."
Nanami's expression immediately soured.
Haibara laughed from where he was sprawled on the ground.
That earned him a wooden sword to the forehead.
"Ow!"
During this period, Yami deliberately avoided flooding them with advanced jujutsu theory.
Instead, he focused relentlessly on their foundations.
Stamina.
Footwork.
Reaction speed.
Balance.
Close combat.
The ability to continue thinking while exhausted and injured.
Like a strict martial arts instructor, he polished away their weaknesses one layer at a time.
Watching the two boys slowly transform through sweat and pain, Yami felt increasingly satisfied.
If the future still unfolded into a war against Kenjaku, they would become important pillars on the battlefield.
But they were not enough.
Yami remembered the battles waiting in the distant future.
Enemies on the level of Special Grades.
Kenjaku.
And above all, Ryomen Sukuna.
They would need people capable of standing on that battlefield without immediately being swept aside.
"Enough."
Yami tossed the wooden sword away.
Nanami and Haibara were both lying flat on the ground, too exhausted to move.
"Training is over for today."
Haibara weakly raised one hand.
"Yami sensei…"
"What?"
"Does crawling back to the dorm count as extra training?"
"Yes."
Haibara's hand dropped.
Nanami closed his eyes in resignation.
Yami turned and left.
But instead of returning to his dormitory, he continued beyond Tokyo Jujutsu High's barrier.
He looked toward Kyoto.
"It's time to see that girl."
A trace of coldness entered his eyes.
The Zenin Clan.
One of the Three Great Families of the Jujutsu World.
An ancient clan with a history stretching back centuries, respected for its bloodline and inherited Cursed Techniques.
Behind that prestigious image, however, was a family rotten to its core.
Within the Zenin Clan, talent determined worth.
Possessing a powerful inherited Cursed Technique made someone valuable.
Being born without one could reduce a person to little more than a servant.
And those born with barely any Cursed Energy at all were treated even worse.
Among them was Maki Zenin.
A child of the Zenin bloodline who had been born with almost no Cursed Energy and could not even naturally see Cursed Spirits.
Because of that alone, her own family treated her as worthless.
Bang!
The massive wooden gates of the Zenin estate exploded inward.
Fragments scattered across the courtyard.
"What?!"
"Who dares trespass on Zenin Clan grounds?"
Several guards rushed forward, reaching for their weapons.
They barely had time to see the intruder.
A red blur passed between them.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Bodies flew in different directions.
One struck a wall.
Another rolled across the stone courtyard.
The rest collapsed before they could even properly draw their Cursed Tools.
Yami walked through the ruined entrance with both hands in his pockets.
Shiranui hung quietly at his waist.
He did not spare the unconscious guards another glance.
His destination was deeper within the estate.
The punishment room.
Before he could reach it, however, footsteps sounded from the corridor ahead.
"Well, well."
A young voice carried through the courtyard.
"So some idiot really did come here looking for trouble."
Yami stopped.
A sixteen year old boy stood at the far end of the corridor.
Naoya Zenin.
His light hair had been meticulously arranged, and an expensive kimono covered his slender frame.
Several members of the Kukuru Unit stood behind him.
Despite his age, arrogance already seemed ingrained into his bones.
Naoya looked Yami over.
Then his expression twisted with open contempt.
"No Cursed Energy?"
His lips curled.
"You broke into the Zenin estate with no Cursed Energy?"
He gave a dismissive laugh.
"What a joke."
Naoya barely bothered to look back at the men behind him.
"Break his legs and throw him outside."
The Kukuru Unit moved immediately.
Dozens of men rushed forward carrying Cursed Tools.
Yami watched them approach.
Then he sighed.
"Another group raised to worship rotten rules."
His figure vanished.
Naoya's pupils contracted.
"What?"
Yami appeared inside the formation.
Bang!
His fist struck the first man in the chest and launched him backward.
A second attacked from the side.
Yami turned, slipped past the weapon, and drove his heel into the man's ribs.
Crack!
Another body hit the ground.
Then another.
And another.
There were no elaborate sword techniques.
No Breathing Forms.
No Cursed Energy.
Only pure physical combat backed by the body Yami had forged through Total Concentration Breathing.
Within seconds, the courtyard became a mess of fallen bodies.
Groans filled the air.
Not one member of the Kukuru Unit remained standing.
Naoya stared at the scene.
His arrogance disappeared.
"How…"
His eyes darted between Yami and the men scattered across the ground.
"How is that possible?"
He had not even been able to follow Yami's movements.
Yami slowly turned toward him.
"Your turn."
Naoya's expression changed.
"You bastard, don't get carried away. Do you know who I am?"
Yami vanished again.
Naoya barely registered the movement before Yami was already in front of him.
"Too much talking."
Bang!
A whip kick slammed into Naoya's abdomen.
"Gah!"
Blood burst from his mouth.
His body shot backward like a projectile.
He crashed through one wall.
Then a second.
Then a third.
The final impact buried him beneath shattered wood and masonry.
Yami did not bother checking whether he was conscious.
He continued toward the far end of the corridor.
A heavy iron door stood before him.
Yami kicked it open.
Bang!
A damp, stale odor rushed out.
The room smelled of mold and old blood.
In the corner, curled on a thin straw mat, was a small girl.
Her body was covered in bruises and marks left by repeated beatings.
Maki Zenin.
Only five years old.
At the sound of the door breaking open, she raised her head sharply.
Her eyes were fierce despite her condition.
Anger.
Suspicion.
And beneath both, despair she refused to show.
"Who are you?"
Her voice was hoarse.
"Did they send you here to laugh at me too?"
Yami looked at her in silence.
This child would endure years of humiliation.
She would eventually fight her way free through sheer hatred and determination, becoming one of the most dangerous physical fighters in the Jujutsu World.
But that future did not have to begin here.
Yami walked over and crouched so they were at eye level.
"My name is Yami."
Maki stared at him.
"I came to take you out of here."
She blinked.
Then gave a bitter little laugh.
"Take me away?"
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the straw mat.
"It doesn't matter where I go."
"I don't have Cursed Energy."
Her gaze dropped.
"To this family, that makes me worse than trash."
"Trash?"
Yami raised an eyebrow.
Then he reached forward and took her wrist.
Maki instinctively tried to pull away.
A gentle warmth entered her body through his hand.
Her eyes widened.
The pain covering her body eased.
The throbbing from her bruises weakened.
Even her breathing became easier.
"What…"
"Listen carefully."
Yami looked directly into her eyes.
"Having no Cursed Energy is not what makes someone weak."
Maki froze.
"What makes someone weak is accepting the judgment of people who have done nothing to earn the right to decide your worth."
Yami stood.
Then he pointed toward the open doorway.
Maki followed his finger.
Outside lay the very Zenin sorcerers who had always seemed untouchable to her.
The guards.
The Kukuru Unit.
People who had looked down on her all her life.
All of them were on the ground.
Defeated.
Maki's eyes slowly widened.
Yami rested one hand against Shiranui.
"I don't have Cursed Energy either."
Maki snapped her gaze toward him.
"What?"
"Not a single drop."
He looked toward the shattered walls and unconscious sorcerers beyond the door.
"And yet here they are."
Maki stared outside.
Something changed in her expression.
For the first time, the beliefs that had been beaten into her since birth began to crack.
No Cursed Energy.
Yet he had defeated them.
All of them.
Yami extended his hand.
"Come with me."
Maki looked down at it.
"I'll teach you how to become strong."
His voice was calm.
"Strong enough that one day, you can use your own hands and your own blade to cut through this rotten family and the fate they tried to force onto you."
Maki remained silent.
Her eyes moved from Yami's hand to the defeated Zenin sorcerers outside.
Then back to his face.
Slowly, she pushed herself upright.
Her legs shook.
But she stood.
And then she grabbed his hand.
"Fine."
The bitterness in her eyes had not disappeared.
But something new burned beside it.
"I'll go with you."
Yami looked at the small hand gripping his.
Another piece had fallen into place.
Nanami.
Haibara.
Geto in the shadows.
Gojo standing in the light.
And now Maki.
The group that would one day stand against Kenjaku and Sukuna was beginning to take shape.
Then Yami's heart suddenly seized.
His body stiffened.
A sharp pain tore through his chest.
[Warning!]
[Host interference has significantly altered multiple core nodes of the world line.]
[World rejection has intensified.]
[Warning! Complete the current stage objective as soon as possible.]
[Failure to do so will result in forced repatriation.]
Yami's expression changed.
The system's warning echoed through his mind.
He could feel it now.
The pressure surrounding him had become stronger.
The world itself was beginning to reject his continued presence.
His time here was running out.
Yami tightened his grip on Maki's hand.
Before he was forced back, every necessary piece had to be placed.
Every tragedy he could still prevent had to be dealt with.
There was no longer any room to waste time.
Far away, beyond Japan, another change was beginning.
The white haired strongest, still carrying the weight of his sworn friend's supposed defection, was undergoing an evolution of his own.
And the next time Satoru Gojo returned, even Yami knew he would not be the same man who had left.
....
⚓ QUICK NOTE FOR MY READERS
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I won't put all the details here, but if you're curious, check my Patreon/community pages for the full announcement.
Story updates here will continue normally.
Thanks for reading, and maybe I'll see some of you in THE ANCHOR. ⚓
[[email protected]/FanficLord03].