The Next Morning
The sky was a pale gray when Fumiko opened her eyes. Though truthfully, she hadn't really slept.
Not after the nightmare she just had. Or memory in her case.
Not after that dream.
It had started like the fight. The cloaked curse. The red cloth. The sound of Yuji's voice calling her name. But then it twisted, the hallway melted into a reflection of something else: a corridor of mirrors, each one showing her with different eyes.
In one, she was screaming.
In another, her mother stood there afraid.
She'd woken just before dawn, soaked in cold sweat, hand pressed hard against the seal at her collarbone. The cursed technique had murmured in her sleep, calling to her, in a soft voice she hadn't heard in years.
She didn't answer it. She did what her mother always told her to do.
She didn't scream. She simply ignored it.
And just sat still.
Waiting for the sun to rise.
By the time Gojo strolled through the dorms, knocking on doors with his usual brand of cheerful sadism, Fumiko was already dressed and seated in the common area. Her cane rested by her leg. A steaming cup of green tea in her hand.
"Rise and shine, little exorcists!" Gojo's voice echoed down the hall. "If I have to see the sun, so do you!"
A groan from Yuji's room.
The sound of something being thrown in Nobara's.
Megumi opened his door silently and just stared at Gojo with pure, unfiltered morning hatred.
"Aw, c'mon, guys," Gojo beamed, clapping his hands. "We've got briefings, we've got training, we've got me. What more could you possibly want?"
"A better mentor," Megumi muttered.
"An hour of sleep," came Nobara's voice.
"Toast," Yuji added, yawning from behind a hoodie.
Gojo turned dramatically. "Fumiko! Tell your classmates to appreciate me more."
Fumiko didn't look up from her tea. "You woke me up three hours ago."
Gojo laughed. "That's my girl."
By 7:30, they were all gathered around the long dining table. Breakfast was a mix of instant rice bowls, miso soup, and hastily scrambled eggs courtesy of Yuji. Nobara protested the lack of proper seasoning, and Megumi mostly ate in silence while going over something on his phone most likely reviewing last night's engagement.
Fumiko ate slowly. Her ribs still ached. Not from the hit, the medics had healed that early in the morning today. Nope the ache came from the tension that still hadn't left her chest. It sat there. Heavy.
Yuji slid a rice ball across the table toward her.
"You okay?"
She looked up. Their eyes met through her glasses. He wasn't prying. Just asking.
"…I'm fine," she said.
He nodded, then resumed scarfing down food like a man possessed.
Gojo arrived late, sunglasses on indoors, a latte in hand. He leaned against the wall, observing them all with that same easy smile.
But when his eyes passed over Fumiko, just for a second, the smile dipped. Barely. But she caught it. She felt the change in the air.
And the feeling in her chest worsened. She gently pushed her plate aside. Her appetite now lost.
Gojo finished his drink, slowly. Then he looked them over and clapped his hands.
"Alright, students! Breakfast is over. Let's talk about how all of you nearly died yesterday!" He mentioned. A bright smile on his face.
A round of groans were all he got in return as he turned and made way to the briefing room. The others soon followed close right behind him.
Briefing Room
The room was clean and cold, with a wide whiteboard, a projector screen, and several chairs that no one ever sat in properly.
Literally no one has ever graced these chairs with the proper seating position.
Gojo stood at the front, arms folded. But his posture relaxed.
Behind him, replaying in grainy cursed-vision detail, was footage from the fight. Jujutsu High's surveillance system had caught the tail end of the encounter, though most of the feed was distorted, the curse's space-warping aura had interfered.
Still, enough was clear. Most especially each mistake everyone made.
"Let's start with what we did wrong," Gojo said.
Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara groaned in unison.
Fumiko sat in the back, cane across her knees, hands folded in her lap. She already knew what she did wrong. It kept her up at night, yesterday.
Gojo pointed at the screen. "Number one: Yuji, what did I say about charging at a high-grade curse without a plan?"
"…Don't do it?"
"And yet?"
"I did it." Yuji mentioned deflating just a little.
"Correct. Moving on." Gojo swiped to a still-frame of Megumi's repeated failed attempts at summoning his shinigami. Half-summoned divine dogs were visible on the screen. "Megumi. You knew your shadows were unstable in that space. You still tried to summon."
"I thought I could force it."
"You couldn't. Result?" He gestured to the still of Megumi getting decked into a pillar. "Concrete."
"…Noted."
"Nobara." He clicked again. The frame showed her hammer stuck in a wall. "You aimed for the cloth. It was clever. But it cost you your positioning. Why?"
"I overcommitted."
"Correct. Always respect the range of a multi-form curse. You did well, but don't expect nails to hold something that can phase."
Gojo turned to the last image.
He paused.
Fumiko's face filled the screen, the moment before Yuji arrived. Her eyes were wide. Her hand hovering over the seal.
Silence.
No one spoke.
Gojo clicked again.
New slide.
"Now," he said, brightening, "assignments!"
Gojo held up three envelopes.
"Each of you gets a personal training focus this week. These are not punishments," he added with exaggerated patience, "they're opportunities for growth."
Yuji: Reflex Training & Domain Edge Sensing.
"You're fast, but your awareness of cursed space still sucks," Gojo said. "You're going to work with Panda and Maki on edge detection drills, how to feel the border of domains before they form. Also, sparring with Toge. No talking back."
Yuji looked mildly terrified. "Who's panda?"
"He's very motivational," Gojo grinned.
Nobara: Range Control & Multi-Targeting.
"Your instincts are solid, but you need better control of how long your techniques last. I want you working with Mei Mei on multi-thread battle tactics. And no hammer throwing unless you've got a plan."
Nobara groaned. "I like throwing it."
"Yes. The walls do not."
Megumi: Adaptive Summons & Trap Breaking.
"You'll train with Takuma, he's going to run you through cursed terrain drills. Your shikigami are strong, but when the field gets weird, you get rattled. Time to change that."
Megumi nodded. "Fine."
Gojo smiled. Then he turned toward Fumiko.
"No envelope for you," he said.
Yuji blinked. "Huh?"
"She's not training here today," Gojo said, walking to the door. "She's coming with me."
Fumiko stood. Her cane tapped lightly against the floor.
No one questioned it.
Not even Nobara.
Outside a car waited for them.
The car was a sleek black luxury model, Gojo's personal choice, of course. Windows tinted, engine silent, air conditioning crisp.
They drove in silence for the first few minutes.
Fumiko stared out the window.
The city passed in flickers. Trees. Wires.
Narrow roads winding into old woods.
Eventually, she unable to handle the awkward air broke the silence.
" Didn't know you drove?"
It wasn't really a question. Just a distraction to talk about something else. Anything else.
Fumiko didn't look at him. And he didn't either. He also didn't bother to answer her question.
"…It's getting stronger," she admitted with a sigh after sometime.
"I thought it might be. The seal's holding, but barely. That curse yesterday… it pressed against you like a key."
Fumiko's hand drifted up to her collarbone again. The seal there wasn't visible under her uniform, but she could feel it. Always. Like a whisper, just behind her heartbeat.
"It knew something."
"Curses are born from human fears," Gojo said. "Some of them see deeper than they should."
"…Do you think they'll figure it out?" she asked quietly. "Yuji. The others."
Gojo kept one hand on the wheel, gaze fixed forward.
"They will," he said. "Eventually."
"And when they do?"
"Depends on what you do before that."
Fumiko looked away again.
More trees. The city was behind them now.
The roads narrowed.
The air thickened, cursed energy dense in the atmosphere, ancient and unwelcoming.
The Gojo clan's territory loomed ahead. She could feel it before they reached the gates: a pressure in her chest, like walking into a thunderstorm that hadn't broken yet.
Gojo didn't slow the car.
The barriers parted for him. He was the Head afterall.
The compound revealed itself in rising walls of white stone and dark tile, pristine and cold. The trees inside were manicured to the point of perfection. Statues of old heads lined the path, their expressions blank and disapproving.
Fumiko exhaled.
"I hate this place. Already."
Gojo smiled, eyes behind his blindfold unreadable.
"Me too."
He parked the car.
The gate closed behind them.