A hundred lives for the life of one (is this the end?) | JJK

CHAPTER NINE | ADJUSTING

Suddenly being an hour trip from Yuuji had a manner of things surface. Firstly, the new environment of the dorms left her horribly paranoid. Despite the assurance that no curse would have a chance of getting into the campus, an inkling deep in her mind whispered uncertainties to her. Is it truly as impenetrable as Yaga promised? Secondly, being so far from her brother had her in a constant worry over his well-being. It was something she experienced whenever she left the house, whenever Yuuji was taken to one of Wasuke's friends for the day. A little thing that tickled the back of her mind, an afterthought after every single impression. Now? It was all-consuming, raging in her brain while making it difficult to focus on anything else. Thirdly, the confusing kindness of the staff as they interacted with her. These adults didn't treat her like a nuisance for existing. They accommodated to her needs and understood her desire to lay in bed all day as she adjusted, only coaxing her out of her given room when she needed to eat, conduct a lesson, or visit her brother. She didn't understand any of it. They acted like she wasn't meant to know how to care for herself and genuinely cared for her health.

Her first month at Tokyo Jujutsu High was an adjustment-and-a-half. She constantly felt like she was scrambling for purchase and the usual lifeline that was her brother wasn't there for her to connect with reality. All she had going for herself was the weekend visits and minimal contact with Ieiri and Suguru (she can't forget Gojo, but she'd rather not mention his name). The three first-years didn't have enough time to visit her during her first month, but they did have the time to call and text her intermittently. It's only during one of her training sessions that she meets the elusive fourth first-year that Suguru and Milk-head mentioned often.

The bokken fell from her hands yet again as her fingers were slapped by her opponent's weapon. Kondo, her weapon's sensei, eases her stance. She stares down at her with those intimidating amber eyes of hers, sighing deeply. Kondo Amayah was a master of the craft, skilled in the use of many different weapons. In spite of Nukumi's advertance to a weapon as long as a katana, the woman wanted her to be proficient in its use before moving on to anything else.

Fingers aching, she wordlessly reaches down and gathers the training sword back in her grip. Weapons training was her least-favorite thing to do, even worse than math when her tutor tried to guide her through problems. "Remember your stance." Barks Kondo, seamlessly melding into a perfect stance, legs balanced and grip heavy on the tsuka.

Clumsily falling into place, she awaits more bruises to paint her knuckles. "Oh!"

Nukumi's head turns in the direction of the surprised exclamation. Her eyes find a teenage boy with long, dark hair pulled into a low, messy bun. A pair of dark blue hair pins stick out from the mess, ordained with mirrored moons of opposing colors, black-and-white. He wears the same uniform as the first-years, styled to his tastes. There's a definite traditional look to his clothes, but something is strapped to his waist. His body language is brimming with excitement, a wide smile on his face. No matter how much she looks at him, all she could place him as is a wolf hiding among wolves, biding his time to strike. She didn't understand the feeling, but she knew, well enough, that the feeling of his cursed energy made her feel sick.

The smile on his face appeared genuine, as did the ease of his walk. She didn't understand why alarm bells rang in her head. "Ah, Tenma." Kondo hums in satisfaction, beckoning him closer. "I didn't know you were back in Tokyo today; I assume everything went well?"

Tenma strides forward, grinning. There was an ease in the way he spoke with her teacher, "What do you expect of me Kondo? Everything went perfect-" His gaze turns to her, sharp features accentuated by the cold pools of tar masquerading as his eyes. "-Is this her?"

Her weapon sensei nods sagely, "Yup- '' Nukumi internally reeled at the causal energy exuding from the strict woman. "-She's as useless as you were when you first came to me." Now that just hurts .