The morning air at Rhodes Island was clearer than usual. A thin mist curled above the worn tiles of the training field, catching sunlight like strands of fading smoke. Despite the early hour, a subtle tension already lingered in the air, not from threat, but anticipation.
Yuta Okkotsu stood quietly in the center of the field, his white coat trailing faintly in the breeze.
He hadn't changed much in appearance over the years, his eyes still held that ever-present heaviness, as though each second of his past clung to him like a second skin. Rika floated nearby in her new shikigami-like form, humming a little tune only he could hear.
She drifted above his shoulder, faintly translucent but no less real. Her presence, once born from torment and sorrow, now brought him a peculiar comfort in this unfamiliar world.
"You look nervous," Rika teased gently.
"I'm not," he replied without looking at her.
"You're fidgeting."
"I'm waiting."
"You're both."
Yuta gave a faint smile, rubbing his thumb along the inside of his palm. This world, Terra, as he'd learned, was nothing like home. No Jujutsu Society.
No curses that followed the same patterns. No real need for exorcists. The cursed energy that now stirred across the land was his fault.
A byproduct of his arrival. The way it had spread... infected... changed people's Arts... made it impossible for him to stand still any longer.
He was used to teaching before, under Gojo's loose guidance, but that was different. This wasn't a sorcerer school.
These were soldiers, medics, snipers, assassins. And now, slowly, they were becoming something else.
The first footsteps approached, several sets, cautious but steady.
Kroos came first, yawning, her makeshift sniper rifle slung lazily across her back. Midnight followed, surprisingly chipper, offering Yuta a casual wave as he twirled his dagger between fingers.
Silence approached with a medkit clipped to her hip, her eyes sharp despite the tension in her shoulders. Specter trailed behind her, smiling that unnerving smile, the kind that didn't quite reach her eyes.
Yuta gave them a nod. "Thanks for coming early."
Specter tilted her head. "Are we going to learn how to kill ghosts today?"
Kroos snorted. "Aren't we all ghosts on the inside?"
Midnight chuckled, but Silence frowned. "Let's just focus."
As Yuta opened his mouth to start, a sharp force slammed into his back, throwing him forward a step.
He didn't flinch, the cursed energy flowing through him easily softened the blow. Rika reacted in an instant, eyes flashing, until she saw who it was.
"Found you again" Lappland grinned, arms wrapped around Yuta's shoulders from behind like a wild dog catching prey. "Took me a while to sniff you out."
"I told you," Yuta sighed. "You can't just—"
"I'm joining. Whether you like it or not." Her grin widened, eyes hungry. "I want to learn. Get stronger. And fight you again, when it'll be fair."
He glanced at the others, who had clearly been warned about Lappland. None of them looked surprised. Kroos shrugged. "She is technically qualified."
"Technically," Silence muttered.
Yuta closed his eyes for a moment. "Fine. You stay quiet while I talk, at least."
"Deal," Lappland said, and did not stay quiet.
Yuta stepped forward, finally beginning.
"Alright," he said, his voice suddenly carrying far more weight than the relaxed tone from before. "Let's start with what cursed energy is."
A stillness settled over the group.
"In your world, you had something called Arts, a scientific, structured way of channeling power. When I arrived, something happened. That power, over time, mutated in some of you. Arts began to twist into something different. Cursed energy is born from negative emotion, fear, anger, grief, hatred. It flows through your body, like blood, but unlike blood, it gets stronger the more you suffer."
He let that settle in. Kroos frowned. Midnight leaned forward slightly. Silence was already taking mental notes. Specter was grinning. Lappland was practically vibrating.
"Everyone can use cursed energy to some degree. But mastering it... that's something else. That's where techniques begin."
He reached down and picked up a small stone from the ground, tossing it into the air, then crushed it with his bare hand. The fragments clattered across the stone.
"Basic usage of cursed energy involves reinforcement, enhancing your body. It lets you punch harder, survive longer. You've probably already been doing it, without realizing."
He glanced at Specter, who gave a smile that was far too wide. "Figured," he muttered.
"Then there's Binding Vows. It's when you restrict yourself, give something up, to gain more power. You make a promise, and you follow it. If you break it... you suffer. But if you keep it, the cursed energy you gain in return can push you past your limits."
He paused, letting that hang in the air.
"Then there's Curtains. A technique used to seal off areas, either to hide, trap, or protect. You'll learn to use them later."
Midnight raised a hand. "What about that punch thing? The flashy one you landed on a dummy?"
"Black Flash" Yuta said, eyes narrowing slightly.
"That one's... difficult. It happens when you land a physical hit within a fraction of a second of cursed energy impact. It's rare. Random. You can't force it. But if it happens..."
He paused, a faint tremor running through him. "It's unforgettable."
He stepped closer, voice lowering.
"Once you start mastering your own cursed energy flow, some of you may awaken a Cursed Technique. That's a unique expression of your cursed energy, your soul made manifest. No two are alike. And if you refine that enough... some of you may reach what we call Maximum Output, the strongest version of your technique, or Maximum Technique, the most refined version."
He looked around. "But the most dangerous ability of all..."
His hand moved slightly. A pulse of cursed energy shimmered around him, subtle but unmistakable.
"Domain Expansion"
"A territory born from your cursed energy. Your world. Your rules. If you activate it, and your opponent can't counter it, they're finished."
Everyone was quiet.
Even Lappland.
For a moment.
Then she grinned. "So when do we start punching each other?"
Yuta smiled, faintly.
"Soon. But first... you need to learn control."
He turned his back on them, facing the open field again.
"Starting now."
...
The sun had risen higher now, spilling light over the training field like golden paint. The mist had long since evaporated, leaving only the heat of anticipation and the soft crunch of bootsteps on stone.
Yuta stood before his students, arms crossed loosely, eyes flicking from one face to another.
Specter was seated cross-legged to the side, humming to herself and occasionally mimicking the motions she'd seen Yuta perform earlier. The others stood in a loose semicircle, waiting for instruction.
"All right," Yuta said, "we're starting with the foundation of everything, cursed energy reinforcement."
He crouched down and picked up a piece of iron rebar, bent and rusted at the tip.
"Reinforcement is simple in theory. You channel cursed energy through your body, not around it, not with it, through. You pour it into your muscles, bones, nerves. Doing it right strengthens your body, hardens your skin, sharpens your reflexes."
He gripped the rebar and then, without warning, slammed it down on his own arm.
The rod bent completely.
His skin didn't so much as redden.
"You don't need a lot," he continued calmly.
"You just need consistency. If your cursed energy wavers, even a little, it's like snapping a rope mid-pull. Your body will tear before your power hits."
He let the bar fall with a clang.
"Specter," he added, glancing her way. "You're already doing it unconsciously."
She tilted her head with a wide grin. "It's just the voices telling me to stay alive~."
"That works too."
"Wait, seriously?" Kroos muttered.
"You'll get there," Yuta said, suppressing a smile. "Just focus. Close your eyes."
One by one, they followed his command. Kroos folded her arms, brow furrowed. Midnight ran his fingers over the edge of his blade, eyes shut but twitching.
Silence stood still, posture perfectly aligned. Lappland, for once, stayed still, but her tail flicked and her fingers twitched. She vibrated with impatience.
Yuta paced slowly behind them, voice low but steady.
"Cursed energy is emotional, but it's not chaos. It has rhythm. Flow. It must circulate evenly. Breathe in. Push the negative thoughts into your body. Anger. Doubt. Pain. Channel it."
Minutes passed in silence, the only sound the occasional shifting of boots on stone.
Kroos groaned. "I'm thinking about how annoying this is. That count?"
"Focus harder."
Midnight exhaled through his nose. "I feel... something. Like a pulse."
Yuta paused behind him. "That's the right direction. Don't overthink it."
A sudden shout rang out. "I got it!"
Yuta whirled around in time to see Lappland's body flicker, not visually, but spiritually. There was a sharp pulse of cursed energy from her core.
Her feet dug into the ground. The wind around her shifted as if drawn toward her spine.
And then she launched forward.
"YUUUUTAAA! REMAAAAAATCH!"
He didn't move.
Rika did.
She materialized instantly between them, grabbing Lappland mid-lunge with one clawed arm. Lappland flailed, laughing madly as she twisted upside-down in Rika's grip.
"Wati! I meant celebrating! Not fight him, let me hug him though! I earned it!"
Rika growled.
Yuta sighed. "You activated reinforcement. Good job. Now stop trying to kill me."
"I wasn't going to kill you" she pouted from where Rika held her suspended like a wild dog on a leash. "Just... maul you a little."
"Still not allowed."
Specter applauded lazily. "She does deserve the headpat."
"No, she doesn't," Silence said flatly, already trying again.
Yuta turned to the others. "See what she did? That was pure reinforcement. Lappland's Art was already close to it, suppressive, mental, raw. She just needed a push."
He pointed at his chest.
"Focus the cursed energy inward. Tighten your muscles with it. Align it with your breath. Don't let it flicker. Think of it like holding your breath in freezing water, keep it locked, no matter what your body tells you."
Another half-hour passed.
Midnight managed a flicker, his blade cutting a groove into a stone with more force than he thought possible. He didn't even notice until Yuta pointed it out.
Silence's hands trembled, not with fear, but effort, as she felt her gloves vibrate for just a heartbeat.
Kroos muttered curses under her breath but didn't give up, sweat rolling down her temples as she clenched her fists over and over again.
Only Specter remained as serene as ever. She clapped again when Silence staggered from over-focusing.
"Look at all of you!" she said. "Trying so hard to survive. It's adorable."
Lappland was still in Rika's grip, now upside-down and swaying back and forth like a pendulum. She looked perfectly content.
Rika looked less amused.
Eventually, Yuta called it.
"That's enough for now," he said, raising his voice. "You've all made progress. It won't happen in a day. But it will happen, if you keep pushing."
He looked each of them in the eye. "Remember, cursed energy is your emotion given form. The more you understand yourself, the more control you'll have."
Lappland finally dropped to the ground with a thud. She bounced back to her feet, grinning like a devil. "So when do we get to fight?"
Yuta gave her a flat look. "After you stop trying to bite your classmates."
"No promises."
Specter clapped again. "Can we bleed yet?"
"No" Silence snapped.
"Can we die yet?" Specter countered, cheerfully.
Kroos raised a hand. "I'd rather not, thanks."
Yuta sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was going to be harder than he thought.
But something in him stirred, a faint, buried warmth.
He hadn't felt it in years.
Maybe...
Teaching wouldn't be so bad.
...
Morning sunlight filtered through the misty expanse of the Rhodes Island training grounds, casting a golden haze over the cracked stone and artificial terrain.
After the commotion with Lappland settled, Rika still holding the silver-haired operator upside-down like a sack of rice, Yuta sat cross-legged on the ground, brushing a hand through his tousled black hair.
His sword rested nearby, but for now, his focus was wholly on the students.
The air had changed.
Not in any mystical way, not with the arrival of another threat, but through the subtle tension of minds on the verge of opening.
He could feel it in the way their cursed energy twitched and pulsed in stuttered waves, like muscles long unused being stretched for the first time.
Kroos was kneeling several meters away, one eye closed, a finger pressed to her temple as she took aim at a painted target across the clearing.
Her crossbow sat unused on the ground beside her, this was about cursed energy, not weaponry. Instead, she extended her right arm, forming a mock-aiming posture with her fingers.
Her cursed energy, though weak, had begun to stabilize.
Not expand. Not flood. Condense.
"You're doing something right," Yuta said quietly.
She didn't respond, too focused. There was a faint glimmer near her outstretched fingertips, almost imperceptible. A shimmer of tension, like a string pulled taut.
Yuta rose and stepped beside her, his eyes narrowing. "Kroos. Don't try to spread it through your body like the others. Let it... tighten."
"Hm?" Her voice broke the trance, blinking herself back to awareness. She looked up, confused but still as positive as always. "Tighten?"
"Your cursed energy feels like it wants to focus, not reinforce. You're not meant to brute-force it through your muscles. Let it thread itself along your sightline. That's your natural shape."
Kroos hesitated. Then turned back to the target. She exhaled slowly.
And then again, a thread, a single, almost invisible beam of cursed energy connected her fingertip to the center of the target across the field.
It disappeared as soon as it came, but not before Yuta's breath caught in his chest.
"She's got it," he murmured. "Sniper's Thread like huh..."
Kroos didn't even hear him. She just smiled faintly, then blinked, wondering if she imagined it.
A few meters away, Silence stood in the shade of an arching metal scaffold. She had stayed quiet throughout the exercises, offering no complaints nor input.
But now, as the others fell into pockets of individual practice, she stepped lightly toward Yuta as he returned to the center.
"Yuta," she said softly, her hands folded at her waist. "Can I ask something personal?"
He turned, eyes still distant with thought. "Sure."
She looked at the others, Lappland was playfully bothering Rika again, Kroos was back to tracing invisible lines with her fingers, and Specter... well, she was humming to herself, occasionally pressing her hands into the ground like she was trying to feel it breathe.
Silence lowered her voice.
"You said cursed energy comes from negative emotions. But what about people like me, who keep everything inside? Does it still leak out? Or does it just... stay there, unformed?"
Yuta blinked.
"I see people like Specter or Lappland and they overflow. But I... don't feel anything when I try. Just pressure. No flow."
Yuta studied her for a moment.
"You're not wrong. There are people who internalize their emotions so tightly their cursed energy feels... sealed. But that doesn't mean it's not there. Sometimes, that pressure builds until it forces a shape."
"What kind of shape?"
He thought back to Inumaki. To Yuki. Even to Geto. "One that fits your true nature. What you're afraid of. What you're trying to protect."
Silence looked down at her gloved hands. "...And if what I'm trying to protect is myself?"
"Then that's where your cursed technique will bloom from."
She didn't say anything after that. She just nodded once, then returned to watching the others. But Yuta could feel it: her cursed energy had begun to stir, like frost forming on a window, quietly, invisibly.
Then came Specter.
She hadn't spoken much since the lesson started, instead spending her time wandering along the edges of the field.
At first Yuta thought she was just detached. But the longer it went on, the more he began to notice her pattern.
She wasn't training. She was... testing.
She would brush her fingers across the dirt, then the training mats, then Yuta's own sheathed blade when he wasn't looking.
Her cursed energy, twisted, heavy, soggy like something submerged, began to leave trails across the space. Trails Yuta could feel.
By the time she passed behind him a third time, Yuta turned and asked, "What are you doing?"
Specter gave him an upside-down smile, her head tilted too far to one side. "Looking for the deep place. Where the walls get soft."
Yuta felt a chill run up his back.
"You've been in places like that, haven't you?" she asked. "Between people and dreams. I want to see where the surface bends."
She reached out and pressed two fingers against his sleeve.
He felt weight. Not pressure. Weight. A spiritual drag against his soul, like his body wanted to fold into itself.
Yuta gently grabbed her wrist and moved it away. "That's enough."
Specter grinned wider, her cursed energy vanishing like mist pulling back from the sea.
But something inside Yuta whispered that whatever her technique would become... it was already forming. A drowning tide, quiet but hungry.
Rika floated beside him a moment later, arms crossed. "She's weird," she muttered.
"She's dangerous," Yuta replied, watching Specter skip away.
He turned to look over the training field. Every one of them was strange. Traumatized. Raw. But gifted.
And now, their cursed energy was beginning to pulse in rhythm with his own. Terra had changed them.
He had changed them.
Yuta exhaled slowly. "It's starting."
Rika tilted her head. "What is?"
He looked up at the red-tinged sky above the training field.
"Everything."