“Looked long enough?” Maki’s tone was flat as usual, but she didn’t sound angry.
Arata blinked, showing zero guilt at being caught.
Instead, he smiled and waved his lollipop stick.
“Not yet.
I only just got here.”
“Then what are you standing there for?
Get over here.”
Arata complied, standing before her.
“What do you want me to help you practice?”
“Fight me.”
“Got it.”
…
The dust on the training ground was dyed a faint gold by the setting sun.
Arata leaned to the side, narrowly dodging a wooden sword thrust, his footwork a bit clumsy.
But Maki had no intention of showing mercy.
She twisted her grip, sweeping the blade in a horizontal strike toward his ribs.
Arata hopped back half a step, raising his right hand.
“Blood Manipulation…”
“No techniques,” Maki interrupted coldly.
“Use taijutsu.”
“This is abuse of an injured person.”
“You don’t count as injured.” Maki’s wooden sword drew an arc through the air, the back of the blade rapping him precisely on the head.
Arata hissed as he sucked in a breath of pain, but he adjusted his stance and lunged forward again.
Relying on instinct and a year’s worth of accumulated combat experience, Arata managed to hold his own against Maki–barely.
Her assault was like a relentless tide, every strike carrying merciless force.
After dodging a few more moves, Arata was ultimately swept off his feet by a low kick.
Maki lowered her sword and looked down at him, her voice tinged with disapproval.
“You’re a Semi-Grade 1 sorcerer now.
Can’t you be a bit more serious?”
“You’re hitting too hard!
I just finished a mission yesterday.
Have a little heart,” Arata panted, lying on the ground as his chest heaved.
Maki looked at his excuses with pure disdain.
“A mission that wasn’t even Grade 2?
Didn’t you finish that just by opening your mouth?”
“It *was* supposed to be below Grade 2, but a Semi-Grade 1 curse suddenly popped up.” Arata looked at Maki, who had frozen mid-thought.
He continued, “I’ve already told Ijichi-san about it.
Gojo should be handling it now.”
“Why did that happen?
Did they not scout the area properly?” Maki frowned.
“It’s not necessarily their fault.
Maybe a curse user just happened to be there when we arrived,” Arata smiled, then asked a question he already knew the answer to.
“Maki.”
“Hmm?”
“Why did you become a sorcerer?”
Maki turned to look at Arata, her brow arching as if wondering why he was asking something so obvious.
Arata stayed on the ground, his eyes meeting hers.
“Just felt like asking.”
Maki looked away and remained silent for a few seconds before speaking.
“Because my name is Zenin.”
Arata didn’t speak, waiting for her to continue.
“You’ve heard of what kind of place the Zenin household is,” Maki’s voice was calm.
“The family’s highest law is that status is determined by the strength of your technique and cursed energy.
They worship inherited bloodlines and discriminate against anyone without a technique or with low energy.
Those without cursed energy are treated worse than servants in that house.
I’ve known that since I was a kid.”
“So you want to prove yourself?”
“It’s because I have a bad personality,” Maki said with a smirk.
“I–someone who can’t even see curses without glasses–am going to become a Grade 1 sorcerer.
Then I’ll go back and make them lose face.
And finally…”
She paused, her lips curving into a cold arc.
“I’m going to destroy the Zenin clan from the inside.”
Arata looked at her and suddenly laughed.
“What are you laughing at?” Maki frowned.
“Nothing.” Arata sat up, pulled a lollipop from his pocket, and popped it into his mouth.
“I just think you’re pretty amazing.”
“No kidding.”
“Not that kind of ‘amazing’.” Arata spoke indistinctly around the candy.
“I mean, you know exactly what you want and how to get it.
Unlike me…”
“Unlike you, what?”
Arata paused, then laughed.
“Unlike me, I still don’t really have a goal.”
Maki watched him, her gaze probing.
“You never seem to be in a hurry.”
“About what?”
“Anything.” Maki sat down next to him.
“Your technique is strong, but you just drift along.
That white-haired bastard doesn’t teach you anything, and you never ask.”
“My philosophy is simple: as long as I’m alive, it’s all good.
After all, if I’m dead, I can’t eat delicious desserts.” Arata stood up and brushed the dust off his clothes.
Maki stood up as well, following him toward the exit.
“How is it that all you think about is eating?”
“Because living *is* for eating,” Arata looked back at her with a candid smile.
“What else?
For the future of the jujutsu world?
That’s too exhausting.”
“Worthless.”
“There are plenty of people with ‘worth,’ they don’t need me.” Arata shoved his hands into his pockets and walked leisurely ahead.
“I just want to live well and protect the people I want to protect.”
Maki’s footsteps faltered for a moment, but she said nothing, simply keeping pace with him.
Time flew by, and soon it was October.
“Arata-kun~”
Satoru Gojo’s voice suddenly rang out from behind.
Arata didn’t even bother turning around.
“What do you want now?”
“Aw, don’t be like that.” Gojo swung around to his side, leaning against the railing.
His white bandages caught the sunlight.
“Your teacher is here to inform you that you and Yuta will both be competing in this year’s Goodwill Event.”
Arata’s hand froze as he reached for a candy.
In the original story, the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event was the first big arc after Yuji Itadori enrolled–the 30th event.
But the current timeline was October 2017.
Yuji wouldn’t enroll until June 2018.
The current first-year roster consisted of himself, Maki, Toge, Panda, and the recently arrived Yuta Okkotsu.
“What’s the roster?” Arata asked.
“You, Maki, Toge, Panda, and Yuta,” Gojo counted on his fingers.
“Exactly five people.
Perfect.”
Arata remained silent, his mind racing.
The difference between the 29th event and the 30th from the original plot shouldn’t be large.
The Kyoto side would likely still be Aoi Todo, Noritoshi Kamo, Mechamaru, Momo Nishimiya, Mai Zenin, and Kasumi Miwa.
That lineup was tricky, especially that monster Todo.
His technique, Boogie Woogie, was essentially a cheat code.
[LanLi: It’s not that good if you look at it individually but yea since it’s technically for a group/duo etc so..
idk.]
“What are you thinking about?” Gojo waved a hand in front of his face.
“Nothing,” Arata snapped back to reality.
“Here is the data on the Kyoto participants.
Look it over carefully.” Gojo handed Arata a sheet of paper.
Arata took it and scanned the names.
As he expected, all six were there.
“Noritoshi Kamo…” Arata’s gaze lingered on that specific name.