Jujutsu Kaisen: Mystic Eyes of Death Perception

Chapter 12: A New Day, Different Problem

Chirp, Chirp, Chirp.

Shiki woke up to the soft light streaming in from the window and the sound of birds chirping outside. Stretching lazily, she realized it was the most comfortable rest she'd had in a long time.

"Is it because of yesterday?" she mused aloud. Despite everything that had happened, she felt strangely refreshed—more energy than she'd had in days. She got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom to freshen up.

After washing her face, she slipped into her usual kimono, tying it securely. Her hand rested briefly on the hilt of her sword, its familiar weight grounding her as she headed out of the room.

The distant sound of hammering and murmured voices filled the air. The aftermath of the battle still lingered, with school staff moving the injured and cleaning up the destruction.

"Shoko's probably drowning in this mess," Shiki muttered to herself. With Shoko being the only one able to heal using reverse cursed energy, she must be completely exhausted. Shiki wouldn't trade places with her.

She made her way toward the dojo, where the sounds of the school's recovery were more muted. The air here was quieter, more focused. As she approached, she spotted Maki standing near the entrance, her weapon at the ready. Her posture was tense, her expression hard.

"Morning," Shiki said, her voice flat, offering nothing more than the bare greeting.

Maki didn't look up immediately. "Morning," she replied curtly, her tone sharp as always, though there was a slight edge of strain in her voice.

For a moment, they stood there in silence. Shiki, in her detached way, didn't mind the quiet, but she could sense the tension between them, like an invisible thread stretched too tight. Maki wasn't one to dwell on things, always preferring action over words.

"Training already?" Shiki asked, more out of habit than genuine curiosity.

"Yeah. I don't have time to sit around doing nothing," Maki's words were blunt, focused. She wasn't in the mood for pleasantries—she never was.

"Should we spar?" Maki asked, not looking for a conversation. Just action. That was her style.

Shiki raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. "In your condition? You really think you can handle it?"

"I don't need you to worry about me. I'm not broken."

"Alright." Shiki gave a brief nod, and they headed into the dojo together.

Both moved into position, taking their places on the dojo mat. Shiki's eyes never left Maki, watching every shift in her posture, every subtle movement. Despite the stiffness in Maki's body, there was still fire in her stance. Shiki could respect that—Maki always fought like she had something to achieve, and in a way, so did Shiki.

"Ready?" Maki asked, her voice clipped and serious.

Shiki gave a short nod, her expression as stoic as ever.

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Maki POV

I tightened my grip on my weapon as Shiki stood across from me, her eyes locked onto mine. Every time we sparred, it felt like I was up against a brick wall—but I wouldn't back down. I couldn't. I had to push forward, no matter how far ahead of me she seemed.

"Ready?" I asked, my voice carrying more confidence than I felt. The tension in the air wasn't coming from her, though. It was from me. I hated how she never seemed fazed.