A series of sharp cracks echoed across the Kamo Clan's training grounds. The air hung heavy with heat and the faint scent of earth and sweat.
Reiji stood shirtless beneath the afternoon sun, twin whips gripped tightly in his hands. His arms trembling slightly from exhaustion.
"Too slow!" Dairoku barked from the shade of the veranda. The old man stood with his arms folded across his chest, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "If that had been a curse, you'd already be dead, kid."
Reiji exhaled sharply through his teeth, resetting his stance. His wrists twisted, and the whips snapped forward in perfect arcs; one wrapping around the wooden training dummy's arm, the other slamming into its torso with a heavy thud.
The old master's eyes widened slightly, a hint of pride glimmering beneath his gruff expression.
'The rate at which he's learning… remarkable. I guess he's making up for all those years he spent as a twig.'
"That's better," Dairoku muttered, voice low. "You're starting to move with the weapons flow instead of fighting it."
Reiji didn't respond… his concentration was absolute now. His rhythm smoothed; breathing and movement aligned as the whips danced around him. Each motion flowed into the, as though the weapons had become extensions of his own body. Every strike landed faster, sharper, and more deliberate than the last.
Sweat trickled down his jawline. He clenched his teeth.
'I can feel the change.'
The whips moved faster still. Fluid lashes turned into meticulous patterns; overlapping strikes that hissed through the air like slashing wind. As he spun, one whip raced downward as the other carved a sweeping curve overhead. The impact against the dummy sent a sharp crack echoing through the courtyard.
Dairoku's sharp eyes followed every motion. "Hmm… interesting."
Reiji stopped, panting, cursed energy flaring erratically around him. A strange clarity washed over his mind.
Without warning, he began coiling both whips tightly around his arms. The weapons merged seamlessly, solidifying into crimson serpentine gauntlets. Cursed blood pulsed visibly through the embedded veins of the weapon, glowing faintly under the sun.
Dairoku's expression hardened. The air itself seemed to distort.
"Reiji! Wait… !"
But the boy was already moving.
Reiji thrust his arm forward, and his reverse cursed technique ignited violently. Blood compressed at the gauntlet's surface before exploding outward in a blinding flash.
The wooden dummy disintegrated instantly, vaporized in a thunderous burst of energy. The air shimmered like liquid glass as the explosion tore through it.
When the light faded, Reiji was kneeling; steam rising from his gauntlets, chest heaving, sweat dripping freely onto the scorched ground.
Dairoku stepped out from the veranda, shielding his face from the fading heat. For a moment, the old master said nothing. Then, slowly, a grin crept across his weathered features.
"Hah! You really are a troublesome brat," he chuckled, swatting away a curl of smoke.
Reiji tilted his head up, still catching his breath. "Was that any better, old man?"
"Y–You…!" Dairoku snapped, the veins on his forehead bulging. But after a long sigh, he composed himself and spoke in a calmer tone. "Yes."
He looked toward the now-empty stand where the dummy once stood, then back at his student. "But what was that supposed to be?"
Reiji glanced down at the gauntlets wound around his arms. The surface glimmered faintly, perfectly molded to his skin.
"I'm not sure," he admitted, his voice low. "I just acted on instinct. But it feels… natural. Like I could do it again… and again."
Dairoku shut his eyes, rubbing his temple.
'While the technique is powerful, controlling it precisely without destroying the weapon will be another story altogether.'
He opened his mouth to scold his reckless pupil. But before he could, Reiji stood and began walking toward the exit.
"Hey, brat! Where do you think you're going?" Dairoku barked, his irritation returning.
Reiji raised a hand in half-hearted acknowledgment but didn't turn around. "I'm done for the day, master."
The old man's brow twitched. "Tch. Damn kid. Thinks he's a weapon master after learning a few tricks," he grumbled under his breath.
Yet as the boy disappeared beyond the garden gate, Dairoku's expression softened. His gaze lingered on the path Reiji had taken, a rare glint of concern surfacing beneath his irritation.
'Something's not right.'
He turned slowly toward the empty field, the scorched earth still steaming faintly from Reiji's last strike.
"Well," Dairoku muttered under his breath, his voice unusually subdued, "he might be losing it a little…"
*******************************************************************************
Reiji walked down the corridor toward his room, the faint scent of soap still clinging to him after a quick bath.
He had opted for a loose robe because the afternoon heat made anything heavier unbearable.
"Precision is more important than strength," he muttered under his breath, replaying the memory of the whips coiling around his arms.
A few servants scurried past him in the hallway, bowing lightly before disappearing into side chambers. The quiet rhythm of their footsteps echoed subtly through the polished floors.
Reiji entered his room and leaned against the wall, still a little shaken. His forearms throbbed faintly from the earlier explosion. Faint burns snaked along the skin where the whips had fused to him.
The smell of singed leather and iron still lingered, no matter how hard he had scrubbed it off.
"Damn…" he muttered, flexing his fingers, recalling the destructive pulse that had vaporized the training dummy. "I almost blew up the whole yard."
He tossed his shirt over a chair, grabbed a towel, and sank onto his futon. The entire estate was silent now. It was almost unnerving.
It was certainly peaceful, but there was a certain heaviness to the quiet that made it feel more like a warning than rest.
A few minutes passed before the silence was broken by the vibration of his phone.
Reiji frowned when he saw the caller ID: Suguru Geto.
He answered. "Geto?"
"Finally," came Geto's sharp, irritated tone. "You're actually picking up for once. You're at the clan, right? Good. Tell me… have you heard anything about Shoko?"
Reiji blinked, confused. "Shoko? What about her?"
"She's been marked as missing since yesterday," Geto said grimly. "Gojo's been running around like a maniac trying to find traces of her cursed energy, but there's nothing. No calls, no texts… she's completely off the grid."
Reiji straightened, unease creeping in. "That's… really strange. Why would she just disappear like that?"
"Exactly my question," Geto replied, voice taut. "Last anyone saw her, she said she was going shopping in Shinjuku, near the site of the train crash."
Reiji frowned, his thoughts stalling. "…Wait what? Train crash?"
There was a pause, then Geto's tone turned incredulous. "Reiji, don't tell me you didn't hear? The train crash yesterday… hundreds have died. It's all over the news."
Reiji sat up immediately. He'd been so buried in training that he hadn't spared a thought for the outside world.
Geto sighed. "Figures. Anyway, the higher-ups are investigating; they think it was caused by a curse. So they're keeping everyone grounded for now. Which means no official search for Shoko. Its just us."
Cold sweat pricked at Reiji's temples. "Let me help. I'll try calling her."
"Good luck with that," Geto muttered. "Her phone's been dea-"
But Reiji had already hung up and was dialing her number.
It rang once.
Twice.
Click.
"Yo."
Reiji's eyes widened. "Shoko? What the hell… where have you been? You're marked missing!"
Her tone was calm, lazy as ever. "Huh. Really? That's kinda funny."
"Funny?" Reiji's voice hardened. "Where are you?"
A brief silence followed. Then faint hospital noises came through: the rhythmic beeping of monitors, distant footsteps, and an overhead announcement.
"St. Luke's," she said casually. "In Tsukiji. Figured I'd enjoy the fancy hospital food for a change."
Reiji dragged a hand down his face. "You just vanished, Gojo's tearing up half of Tokyo looking for you, and you're lounging in a hospital?"
"I wouldn't call it lounging," she replied dryly. "More like recovering from being hit by a train that decided it didn't need brakes."
Reiji froze. "Wait… you were in that crash? The one in Shinjuku Station?"
"Mhm." She sounded almost amused. "It certainly wasn't a pleasant experience, lots of screaming and lots of ripped steel."
Reiji's voice softened. "Are you hurt?"
"Nothing serious really," Shoko said. "Just a few bruises and a mild concussion. The doctors did freak out, but I healed most of it before they could even start their scans."
Reiji exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple. "What actually happened?"
"I don't know," she admitted, her tone dropping. "One second, I was walking out of a store, the next … the platform was destroyed. The train came barreling through." She hesitated, then added quietly, "And then I saw something weird."
Reiji's brows furrowed. "Weird how?"
"There was something in the air," she said. "Like… cracked glass. You know how light bends when it passes through a crack? It was like that. But it didn't feel like cursed energy. More like a… glitch."
Reiji froze. "Cracked glass…" he echoed under his breath.
"Yeah. Then it vanished. I thought I imagined it."
"Did you tell Jujutsu High?"
"Of course not," she said instantly.
Reiji blinked. "…Why not?"
"They'd turn it into a dramatic investigation," Shoko replied flatly. "I just wanted a day off, and the universe decided to throw a train at me. So, I decided to take another one."
Reiji pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're unbelievable."
"Thanks," she said cheerfully. "And do me a favor… don't tell Gojo. He will wreck the hospital, I'm sure."
"Too late," Reiji said. "Geto's already looking for you."
"Ugh, that idiot. Fine. But if Gojo shows up, I will check myself into the morgue and play dead."
Reiji's lips quirked faintly. "Right."
He paused. "Still… I will have to report that cracked-glass thing to Jujutsu High."
"Ha-ha," she replied flatly. "You're hilarious."
A brief silence stretched between them. Shoko's tone softened slightly. "Seriously, though, don't worry. Whatever that thing was, it's gone now. Probably just a freak accident. Or maybe I was still concussed."
Reiji did not answer immediately.
"Yeah," he said finally. "Probably."
But even through the line, both of them could hear the weight of uncertainty that neither could shake.