Chapter 20: You’re Getting Anxious
The mission was completed just like that.
Although this exorcism was particularly dangerous, Sōjun Minamoto and Shiko Mishima came out of it unscathed—aside from being completely drained of their cursed energy.
After thoroughly inspecting the school and confirming that all the curses had been exorcised, Sōjun retracted his barrier and returned to the car with Shiko.
Shiko, now back to her usual self, extended an invitation:
"The mission went smoothly—how about a little celebration?"
Sōjun hesitated.
"Last time I said I'd treat you, but you ended up paying. This time, I insist on covering the bill!" she declared, thumping her chest confidently with two resounding bangs.
Sōjun glanced at her, his lips twitching slightly.
Sensing his doubt, she raised three fingers to the sky and solemnly vowed, "This time, I promise I won't get drunk!"
Finally, Sōjun nodded in agreement.
...
Why did I agree to go drinking again?
She always makes these solemn oaths and never follows through.
Once again, Sōjun found himself in an awkward situation, though he had grown somewhat accustomed to such scenarios.
Shiko, as expected, got drunk almost immediately. Her promise? Nothing more than a lie.
Just like last time, she began venting her frustrations and letting loose her negative emotions. Having dealt with her antics once before, Sōjun chose to ignore her.
Though she might seem utterly devastated now, by the next day, she'd bounce back as if nothing had happened.
Huh?
Sōjun suddenly realized something was off.
Could it be that this is exactly her intention?
I'm underage, I can't drink, and I don't even like alcohol. Was her invitation just an excuse to lash out at me and let off steam?
Sōjun studied her carefully but quickly gave up—there was no way to discern anything from the face of a drunkard.
What "truth comes out when drunk"? All she spewed were emotional outbursts.
The next morning, Shiko woke up to find herself lying on a familiar couch.
A steaming breakfast sat on the coffee table beside her, but the house was empty—Sōjun was nowhere to be seen.
At that moment, Sōjun was at Masamichi Yaga's house.
"You think someone might be targeting you?" Yaga mused thoughtfully.
Sōjun's life had always been straightforward: missions and training, with little interaction with other sorcerers. He kept a low profile. If someone were targeting him, it was likely because of Yaga himself.
Sōjun recounted the details of the mission to Yaga.
After a moment of contemplation, Yaga remarked, "This is a 'normal' form of competition."
"Normal?"
"Yes," Yaga nodded. "The mission was Grade 1, within your capability. It just so happened that a cursed womb was hidden, the staff 'happened' to miss it, and you 'happened' to have one compulsory mission left to complete, which 'happened' to be assigned to you."
Sōjun understood—too many coincidences meant it wasn't a coincidence at all.
As a candidate for principal, Yaga was bound to clash with certain interests.
As his nephew and student, Sōjun had anticipated drawing attention from ill-intentioned individuals long before he joined Jujutsu High.
He had come to inform Yaga of the situation so he could be prepared. Seeing how familiar Yaga was with such schemes, Sōjun felt reassured.
He really takes care of everything.
Standing up, Sōjun stretched and looked up, masking his expression. After all this, it was hard not to feel a bit annoyed—
Someday, I'll wipe them all out.
Yaga suddenly placed a firm hand on his shoulder and said seriously, "Leave this matter to me. For future compulsory missions, you have the right to refuse."
"..."
Watching Sōjun leave reluctantly, Yaga sighed inwardly. He had seen his share of underhanded tactics and never worried about them.
What concerned him was Sōjun, fearing he might take an extreme path. The murderous intent in his eyes was so blatant it couldn't be ignored.
This kid will be the death of me.
When Sōjun returned home, Shiko was still there, messing around with the flowers in his garden.
His figure blurred for a moment and reappeared right in front of her. Without a word, he threw a punch.
Caught off guard, Shiko hastily raised her blade to block. The clash between fist and blade caused the sword to bend with a creak, snapping back with a sharp, resonating twang.
Shiko staggered back, her expression full of confusion.
"What the hell are you—"
Sōjun didn't let her finish.
His blood boiled. What was he doing? She'd find out soon enough.
His movements were like drifting willow leaves—seemingly slow but impossibly fast.
Before Shiko could react, he was already upon her. His elusive footwork made her feel cornered, as if she were surrounded by just one person.
It seemed like attacks could come from any angle at any moment. Her blade slashed through the air, always missing by just a fraction.
That tiny gap was insurmountable.
"Too slow!"
Sōjun's dodges were perfectly calculated, wasting no energy.
He even had time to taunt her.
"Is this all you've got?"
"After all these years of training, you can't even land a hit?"
Shiko's eye twitched. She knew he was provoking her, but she couldn't stand it. She unleashed her full strength, her sword speeding up dramatically.
Yet it still wasn't enough. She lacked the sense of urgency he was looking for.
Stopping abruptly, Sōjun accelerated, sidestepping her blade and striking her neck with his elbow.
For a moment, Shiko's mind went blank. Darkness clouded her vision, accompanied by a piercing ringing in her ears.
She tried to fight back but achieved little.
When her blade was knocked from her hand with overwhelming force, memories of curses disarming her resurfaced, fueling her anger.
She lunged at Sōjun with her bare hands, only to grab at empty air.
"You see? When your usual tactics fail, you lose your composure. Facing an enemy with a 'to hell with it' mindset, you're just a reckless fool."
Sōjun's foot swept at her shin, forcing her to kneel.
"Ahhhh!"
Shiko struggled to stand, only to take another blow to the back.
"Ugh!"
A mouthful of blood sprayed out, with the rest forcefully swallowed. The pain sharpened her senses slightly. She felt like a lone boat caught in a storm, at the mercy of crashing waves, her demise imminent.
What could she do?
Could she even do anything?
A fist stopped inches from her face, its wind brushing her hair back and tugging painfully at her scalp.
Ignoring the pain, she clenched her teeth and fixed her gaze on the fist. At least she'd see how she died.
In that moment, she realized she was afraid of death.
But even more, she feared reaching her limits and being unable to grow further.
The fist unfurled, and a finger extended to tap her forehead.
"Bang."
"You're dead," Sōjun said.
Shiko froze, then anger surged within her.
She opened her mouth to speak but noticed a grid pattern on the ground—she had been standing at its center the entire time, surrounded by nine sections.
The footwork he used was the simplest cross-step pattern.
"You were too anxious."
"No matter the situation, you must remain calm. Even in the face of death, keep your composure. Only then can you seize the slimmest chance to break through."
Sōjun clenched his fist in the air as if grasping something.
"…"
Shiko gritted her teeth, her expression twisted with frustration. She understood the logic and wouldn't be discouraged. But why did he beat her so hard?
"Thank you for teaching me this. To show my gratitude, let me treat you to a drink!"
…
Sōjun stared at her in disbelief.
That settled it.
She used him as an outlet for her emotions, and he used her for entertainment.
It was hard to say who benefitted more.
As they walked down the street, Shiko asked, "Why are you helping me?"
"Because you're my first friend!"
Shiko looked touched. Actually, you're my only friend too…
"Just kidding! You do the work; I get the pay. Where else would I find such a sweet deal?" he added.
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