Location: Star Corridor, Tokyo
Time: 10:00 AM | April 17, 1895 (A Year and a Half Later)
Elder Yasuda rubbed his temples with his thumb and index finger. He was one of the members of Council of Elders.
Sigh.
He let out a long, irritated sigh.
Master Tengen sat across from him on a plain floor cushion.
She looked like a normal woman wearing a simple white robe.
Right now she wasn't the thumb-like looking cursed spirit.
A young assistant knelt closely behind Elder Yasuda. The young man held a thick stack of unrolled paper reports against his chest.
"...The diplomats finally signed the papers yesterday," Yasuda muttered. "...The Sino-Japanese War is over."
Tengen picked up a clay teacup.
"...The Emperor is holding parades in the streets right now," Yasuda complained. "...The civilians get to drink sake, and we get the mess."
SIP.
Tengen took a slow drink of her green tea.
"...War always pools at the docks, Yasuda," Tengen said casually.
She lowered her cup.
"...Tens of thousands of soldiers are coming back to the western ports with missing limbs," Tengen added. "...They are bringing all their trauma and survivor's guilt straight into the country."
Yasuda frowned deeply.
He pointed a wrinkled finger over his shoulder.
"...Read the Kyoto report," Yasuda ordered bluntly.
The young assistant jumped slightly.
RUSTLE.
The assistant frantically shuffled his papers to find the right page.
"...The Kyoto Electric Railway opened in January, Master Tengen," the assistant read nervously. "...But the rural civilians are terrified of it."
The assistant swallowed hard.
"...They see the electrical sparks and hear the metal screeching," the assistant continued. "...They think the train is a literal demon."
Yasuda waved his hand to cut the boy off.
"...Their panic is spawning completely new mechanical curses along the tracks," Yasuda grumbled. "...We barely have sorcerers who know how to fight them."
Tengen set her clay cup down on the wooden table.
CLACK.
"...I will tighten the primary barriers across the mainland," Tengen offered simply.
She brushed a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear.
"...I can compress the cursed energy spikes around the ports and the train railways," Tengen explained.
Yasuda dropped his hands into his lap.
"...That would save us a lot of casualties," Yasuda admitted.
Tengen looked up at the wooden ceiling.
"...I cannot let the country's spiritual foundation crack right now," Tengen said. "...I need the environment stable."
She looked back at the elder.
"...The next Star Plasma Vessel merger is only a century away," Tengen noted casually. "...I need to locate the proper bloodlines soon."
Yasuda gave a slow, understanding nod.
A century was a lifetime for him, but just a brief wait for her.
"...Draft the deployment orders," Yasuda told his assistant.
The assistant quickly grabbed a piece of charcoal from his pocket.
"...Send the Zenin clan to lock down the western ports," Yasuda instructed. "...They have the numbers to handle the returning soldiers."
Yasuda cracked his knuckles.
"...And order the Kamo clan to double their forest patrols around Kyoto," Yasuda finished. "...They can catch the spillover from those train tracks."
The assistant pressed his charcoal hard against the paper.
SNAP.
The tip of the charcoal broke off and rolled across the floorboards.
"...Sorry," the assistant whispered quickly.
He grabbed another piece from his pocket and kept writing.
Yasuda just shook his head and closed his eyes.
--<>--
Location: Hanzo's Bedroom
Time: 06:00 AM (Few Days Later)
Hanzo sat in the center of his dark bedroom.
He reached over to his small wooden nightstand and pulled open the bottom drawer.
SCRAPE.
He pulled out his small, leather-bound notebook.
He opened the very first page.
The paper was completely covered in neat Hindi script.
He wrote all his past-life anime memories in Hindi so no one in the Meiji era could ever read it.
He ran his finger down a specific list he wrote years ago.
'The Official Grading Scale.'
He wrote what he can still recall in one of the episodes, the grading military comparisons for jujutsu sorcerers.
To kill a grade four curse or zatsuei, a normal person just needed a wooden bat.
[A/n; Grade 4 curses = Zatsuei (Pest).
Modern terms and grading system isn't yet created before the establishment of Jujutsu High.]
A grade three curse or chigaku required a handgun.
[A/n; Grade 3 curses = Chigaku (Blight).
A grade two curse or moryo demanded a shotgun but it will be a close call.
[A/n; Grade 2 curses = Moryo (Beasts).
A grade one curse or akuma needed a tank but it's still insufficient,
[A/n; Grade 1 curses = Akuma (True Fiends).
and a special grade or onryo required cluster bombs but it is a question if it works.
[A/n; Special Grade curses = Onryo (Wrathful deites).
Tap. Tap.
Hanzo tapped his finger against the bottom margin of the page.
"The names are so confusing, let's just stick to the modern terms."
The golden rule of the Jujutsu world was straightforward.
A sorcerer was always expected to easily defeat a curse of their same grade.
Hanzo needed a physical measuring stick for that power scale.
He thought back to a few months ago in the kitchen.
He had tugged on his father's sleeve while the older man drank his morning tea.
"...Father," Hanzo had asked gently. "...Can you show me your full strength?"
Noboru smiled and set his teacup down.
He humored his five years old son.
VWOOM.
Noboru flared his cursed energy to its absolute maximum limit.
Hanzo had carefully memorized the exact thickness, pressure, and heat of his father's aura.
Noboru was a confirmed, peak grade three sorcerer or chusho.
[A/n; Grade 3 sorcerer = Chusho (Intermediate apprentice).
Hanzo sat in his bedroom and set the open notebook on the tatami mat.
He focused on his stomach.
FWOOSH.
A dark blue aura flared to life around his own body.
He compared the physical pressure on his skin to the memory of his father's aura.
They felt completely identical.
Hanzo gritted his teeth and squeezed his stomach.
He tried to force just one more drop of energy out of his core.
"..."
His gut cramped violently.
"...Nothing," Hanzo groaned. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
There was absolutely nothing left to squeeze.
He had spent every single night for the last year and a half completely emptying his reserve for training.
That brutal repetition forced his internal pathways to widen to their absolute limit. His cursed energy grow faster compared to to the other children. While they're already resting and sleeping after going home, Hanzo was training.
But.
His total capacity would never get any bigger than this. He reach the limit a few weeks ago.
FSSSH.
Hanzo dropped his aura.
The dark blue light vanished from the room.
He slumped his shoulders and rubbed his cramped stomach.
"...A shotgun huh?," Hanzo muttered out loud to himself. "...My peak is equivalent to a shotgun, without counting the binding vows and cursed tools."
Sigh.
He let out a long, tired sigh.
Hanzo would never possess the massive, tank-destroying cursed energy of a main family member.
He picked his leather notebook back up.
Since his raw power was permanently capped, he had to rely on the strange theories he tested in secret.
He flipped past his Hindi notes. While remembering the training he had done for the past year and a half.
--<>--
Location: Branch Courtyard
Time: 04:30 AM (Fourteen Months Ago)
The Kamo estate was completely dark.
The morning air was freezing.
"There shouldn't be anyone awake at this hour right?" Hanzo sneaked quietly across the open yard without his boots.
The frozen dirt stung the bare soles of his feet.
He stopped directly in front of a thick, solid wooden training pillar.
He tilted his head back and looked up at the top of the post.
'If Naruto and Sasuke could do it... I can do it.'
He remembered the tree-climbing training from the Naruto anime perfectly.
"...I just need to focus it," Hanzo whispered to himself in the dark. "...Make it sticky."
Huff.
He closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath.
He pulled a thick line of cursed energy directly from his stomach.
He forced the energy straight down his legs, pushing it past his knees and into his calves.
He pooled the cursed energy heavily at the bare skin of his soles.
Hanzo actively tried to change the physical property of the raw energy, imagining it acting like thick tree sap.
He crouched low to the ground. And ran forward, his bare feet slapping against the cold dirt.
Hanzo jumped up and planted his right foot flat against the vertical grain of the wooden pillar.
FSSSH.
The cursed energy instantly evaporated into the open air.
The exact second the raw energy pressed against the dead bark, it rejected the surface.
Without a physical barrier to contain it, cursed energy simply dispersed into the environment like loose gas.
His right foot slipped completely off the smooth wood.
Hanzo fell straight backward.
He twisted his shoulders violently in the air to protect his neck.
His left foot slammed awkwardly into the frozen, uneven dirt.
SNAP.
"Shit!" Hanzo hissed sharply through his teeth.
He collapsed onto his side in the dirt.
He grabbed his left ankle with both hands.
A sharp, blinding pain shot directly up his calf and into his knee.
"...Damn it," Hanzo groaned out loud, pressing his forehead into the dirt. "...It is not the same at all. Fuck those fanfictions!"
He squeezed his throbbing ankle tightly, panting heavily in the cold air.
Hanzo pushed himself up off the ground and limped slowly back to his bedroom.
--<>--
Location: Hanzo's Bedroom
Time: 12:00 AM (A Few Nights Later)
Hanzo sat on his tatami mat.
His left foot was wrapped heavily in thick white bandages.
He held a small, heavy leather water pouch in both of his hands.
He had sneaked it out of the branch kitchen after the cooks went to sleep.
He pulled a small spark of cursed energy from his gut into his palms.
He pressed his hands tightly against the sides of the leather pouch.
Hanzo tried to force his cursed energy to swirl violently inside the pouch, wanting to spin the liquid into a vortex exactly like the first step of the Rasengan.
FSSSH.
The blue energy just phased straight through the dead leather.
He held the pouch up to his ear.
The water inside remained completely still.
Hanzo dropped his hands into his lap.
Sigh.
"...This is completely useless," Hanzo muttered and sighed.
He tossed the heavy water pouch onto his bed.
THUD.
He rubbed his tired eyes in sheer frustration.
"...The Jujutsu Kaisen anime didn't explain anything," Hanzo complained to the empty room.
In his past life, he just watched Gojo Satoru make Yuji Itadori sit on a couch and watch movies to learn how to control his energy output.
The show didn't give him any actual, mechanical steps to follow.
He had to figure out the strict physical rules of this world entirely on his own. The training in the branch class wasn't enough. And those advanced ones should be completely held by the main family.
--<>--
Another flashback
Location: Hanzo's Bedroom
Time: 11:30 PM (Ten Months Ago)
Hanzo stood in the center of his dark room.
He held his bare fists up in a loose, relaxed fighting stance.
He decided to completely pivot his training again and focus purely on aura distribution.
'Just like Biscuit taught Gon and Killua.'
He wanted to perfectly copy the Ko training from the Hunter x Hunter anime.
He took his time mentally dividing the cursed energy inside his body.
Hanzo forced exactly seventy percent of his energy up his spine and into his right fist.
He kept the remaining thirty percent held back in his chest and legs to protect his vitals.
Sweat dripped down his forehead from the intense mental strain of splitting the output.
HUFF-PUFF.
Hanzo took a sharp breath.
He pushed off his back foot and threw a hard right hook at the empty air.
SWISH.
Hanzo stopped his fist mid-swing and frowned deeply.
"...The energy is too slow," Hanzo whispered to himself.
He felt a massive physical disconnect in his own movements.
His bare fist extended fully and cut through the air, but the heavy blue cursed energy arrived a tiny fraction of a second later to coat his knuckles.
He stepped back and threw another fast jab.
SWISH.
The exact same thing happened.
His physical body moved faster than his internal energy. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
'I can't eliminate the delay.'
His biological pathways were simply too narrow to force the energy to move instantly.
--<>--
Time: Present (Flashback ends)
Hanzo sat quietly on his mat.
He held his open leather notebook in his lap.
Fwiip.
He traced his index finger over pages that were already completely covered in thick, crossed-out charcoal lines.
Hanzo looked at the massive list of things he had tested over the last entire year.
He read the words for bamboo swords, iron-tipped arrows, iron nails, kunai, and thick copper wire.
There were even tools for everyday life like spatula, broom, mop and a lot of miscellaneous items.
Hanzo moved his finger down to the bottom of the page.
He traced a heavy black line over the word for paper talismans.
"...I really thought the talismans would work," Hanzo muttered to himself.
He remembered standing in the courtyard a few months ago, holding a stack of blank talismans he borrowed from his father.
He had desperately pushed every drop of his cursed energy into the paper, hoping for a natural spark of lightning or a drop of condensed water.
Nothing ever happened.
He stared at the completely crossed-out notebook.
Sigh.
Hanzo finally let the harsh, bitter truth sink in.
He had no innate technique.
He didn't inherit blood manipulation, and he didn't even inherit his father's basic Raijin Thread ability.
"...I'm just an average sorcerer," Hanzo said out loud, letting out a grounded sigh.
He was just a capped sorcerer with zero special abilities.
Hanzo closed the leather book.
THWAP.
He shoved it into the bottom drawer of his nightstand and stretched his arms high over his head until his shoulders popped.
POP. POP.
Complaining wouldn't change his genetics.
"Then we need to master binding vows and barrier techniques then. Maybe I can learn new shadow style and become a half-assed Kusakabe."
--<>--
Noboru stood by the small iron stove.
He held a wooden spoon in his right hand.
He slowly stirred a pot of boiling water and tea leaves.
The rich smell of green tea filled the narrow kitchen.
Noboru looked down the wooden hallway.
Hanzo's bedroom door was cracked open a few inches.
Noboru watched his six-year-old son quietly pack his training gear into a small canvas bag.
The older man felt a heavy, painful weight in his chest.
Hanzo did not awaken an innate technique.
Noboru slowly pulled the wooden spoon out of the boiling water.
"...I am sorry, Hanzo," Noboru whispered to himself.
He felt incredibly guilty.
He knew his son worked harder than any other child in the courtyard.
Noboru heard Hanzo sneaking out to the yard at dawn. He saw the blood on his son's bandages every single week.
Hanzo wanted to be a great sorcerer, but Noboru had only passed down average, unremarkable genetics.
Noboru looked away from the cracked door.
He stared at the empty corner of the hallway near the front entrance.
His vision blurred slightly.
He could still vividly see the blood soaking into the tatami mats six years ago.
He remembered the frantic screaming of the midwives.
His wife had died right there in that corner, giving birth to Hanzo on a freezing winter night.
The medical tools were too primitive. The bleeding wouldn't stop.
Creak. Creak.
Noboru gripped the edge of the wooden counter tightly.
His knuckles turned completely white.
Hanzo was the only piece of her he had left in this world.
He swore on her grave that he would keep the boy safe from the horrors of the Jujutsu society.
Noboru let go of the counter.
Sigh.
He reached down to his thick leather belt.
Noburo unclasped his short, heavy combat blade. He checked the iron edge of the weapon.
It was sharp.
SHING.
He slid the blade back into its wooden sheath.
The branch leaders had briefed the scouting units late last night.
The Sino-Japanese war was over. The Emperor signed the treaty.
But the victory brought a massive curse back to the mainland.
Tens of thousands of shattered, bleeding soldiers were currently unloading at the western ports.
Their severe negative experiences and collective misery were already pooling in the atmosphere.
The dark woods surrounding the Kamo estate were currently swarming with fresh, highly aggressive cursed spirits.
The curses were drawn to the negative energy like flies to a rotting corpse.
Noboru grabbed his heavy gray cloak from the wooden hook on the wall.
He threw it over his shoulders and fastened the iron clasp.
He was scheduled for a brutal double-shift border patrol. He would be in the woods for the next eighteen hours.
Noboru poured a small cup of hot tea.
He walked down the hallway and pushed Hanzo's door open.
CREAAK.
Hanzo looked up from his canvas bag.
"...Good morning, father," Hanzo said politely.
Noboru handed the warm teacup to his son.
"...Drink this before you go out to the courtyard," Noboru ordered softly.
Hanzo took the cup.
"...Thank you," Hanzo replied.
Noboru rested his heavy hand on Hanzo's head. He ruffled the boy's dark hair affectionately.
"...Listen to me carefully, Hanzo," Noboru said.
His voice was strict and completely serious.
Hanzo stopped drinking. He looked up at his father's face.
"...The woods are extremely dangerous right now," Noboru warned. "...We have a massive influx of wandering spirits from the coast."
Noboru tightened the leather straps on his gauntlets.
"...I have a double shift today," Noboru explained. "...I will not be home until tomorrow morning."
Noboru pointed a stern finger at Hanzo.
"...Do not leave the main estate walls for any reason," Noboru commanded. "...Do you understand? Not even your usual hidden early morning trainings okay?"
"..."
"..."
"...I understand, father," Hanzo didn't know how to respond by that last comment. "...I will stay in the courtyard."
Noboru let out a slow breath of relief.
"...Good," Noboru grunted.
He turned around and walked down the hallway toward the front door.
Noboru stepped out into the early dawn light.
CLICK.
He walked away from the house, heading straight toward the dark treeline of the eastern woods.
---<>---