Past
"…Reverse Curse Technique?" I asked Himejima-san, curious about this ability.
We were kneeling inside my room, a table with scrolls open as I practiced my symbols. Candles gave a soft yellow glow as the sun disappeared over the horizon.
"Yes, the only technique that heals instead of destroying using cursed energy," He explained calmly.
"Do you know it?" I asked him, curious to know if he could teach me the technique. It sounded very advantageous.
"Sadly, I never got around to learn it," he said, looking down, his face looking lost for a moment. "Normally, those who know how to use it are either born being proficient with it or learn it during extreme duress."
There goes my plan of asking him to teach me. "How does one achieve this technique?" I still asked, after all, there was a chance I could still learn it by myself.
"The scrolls we used to have in the Himejima compound told of how a sorcerer can achieve RCT by mixing cursed energy against itself and using the result to heal itself." What the hell? That sounded so vague. Clashing cursed energy with itself? Like mixing it?
I would still try, even if that was all I had to go with for now.
"If you want to try and master it, I won't stop you," Himejima-san said as he gently stood up, his movements barely disturbing my brush strokes, "but I recommend first finishing your current lessons." There was a small grin on his face as he said this, and I looked down to see very crooked kanji.
I let out a sigh as I went to get another scroll, but in my mind, I couldn't stop thinking of the technique. I will have to make some time when training Dismantle and Cleave, to try and learn that technique.
"You may be the first to learn it and master it with just training," I stopped turning to see Himejima-san facing the setting sun. "I would say it would be a one in a thousand chance of you learning it by just training. A small chance to be sure, but a chance nonetheless…"
He turned to look at me with his white eyes. A solemn look on his face.
"…but there is a higher chance that you'll only be able to master it on the brink of death."
Present
Himejima-san had been right.
No matter how much I tried to mix my cursed energy, I was never able to feel any change with it and achieve the Reverse Curse Technique. It had felt like hitting two rocks together in hopes of making fire. Possible, but difficult if you didn't know how.
It hadn't been until I was on the brink of death, with my heart gone, blood soiling my back, and lungs unable to breathe, that I had been enlightened.
It wasn't about cursed energy itself, but the source of cursed energy.
My emotions. In those moments, I had felt a myriad of emotions as I lay there.
Disappointment. Disappointed that the fight had ended so suddenly, just when I was beginning to grow and enjoy myself, for the first time in this life, I found something that brought some degree of enjoyment into my life.
Desperation. I wanted to live, dammit! A second life, and I was dealt a hand that ostracized me since my birth, forever being attacked for something out of my control.
Sadness. I was sad that it would end like that. There was still so much to see, so much to learn. I had found the desire to learn as much cursed energy and its uses as possible.
I felt so many other emotions, but among them two burned the brightest.
Despair and Rage.
I despaired that I was about to die. Again. I despaired at the unfairness of it all; I could've won that fight. I would've won it. There had been no doubt in my mind, and he knew it too. That's why he killed me when he still had the advantage.
Rage that he decided to end the fight in fear of my potential. Rage that it felt as if he had been just toying with me. Rage at this whole situation, at how it had all started. I felt rage at all those who had attacked me in the past, be it a sorcerer or a normal human, all of them led to this, even if I killed them, it was self-defense, and then they had the gall to paint me as the aggressor.
These emotions separately fueled my cursed energy, creating two sources inside me that I willed to make contact, and the result was something that I could only describe as…
Positive Cursed Energy.
Cursed energy normally felt like a muddy river flowing inside me, disgusting and foul, and when manifested outside my body, it felt as if I was burning toxic materials, releasing toxic fumes into the air. But when those energies collided, in that single moment, it felt as if the river had been cleaned and the fire burned cleaner than ever.
That's when I understood it. Negative emotions made Negative Cursed Energy, but positive emotions could not make positive cursed energy; the only way to obtain such was by mixing two sources of negative cursed energy.
Like multiplication, two negatives equal one positive.
It was both simple math and the most complex manipulation of emotions and energy, at the same time.
For the following minutes, it felt as if I was moving, ignoring friction, resistance. I was on cloud nine. It was obvious I was high on my own power, but at the time, I didn't care. I had reached an understanding of my cursed energy, and I could use it five times as efficiently as before. I had achieved more in that brief encounter with Death than in the three years I was at the temple.
I tracked down Hizashi; it wasn't hard, I knew the direction in which he was moving and could feel his cursed energy. I moved faster than ever before, even breaking the sound barrier. When I found Hizashi, I killed him without giving him the chance to counterattack. If he was going to end our fun by pulling out a bitch move, I would do the same.
One touch was all it took.
One touch and Cleave did its work.
When the feeling of euphoria came to an end, all that remained was a blood stain on the grass. The only proof that Hizashi ever existed. I raised my two right hands and destroyed that last proof. An overpowered dismantleerased that plot of land completely, leaving only a diagonal slash that dug deep into the ground. Undoubtedly, evidence of my new mastery and efficiency of my cursed energy… along with certain changes on my body.
I looked at my arms, or more specifically, the tattoos that had appeared on them. They were clearly of cursed origin; they had clearly manifested when I healed with RCT, there was no other explanation; however, I couldn't make heads or tails of why they manifested.
No matter, I could speculate what they meant at another time. The now-dead sorcerer had said something about others at the temple, and I had a very good idea of what that meant.
I jumped into the air and, moving at subsonic speeds, I arrived at the temple in no time. My landing cracked the stone tiles, but I couldn't care less about that as I looked upon the Temple.
The smell of blood corrupted the air.
As I walked all across the courtyard, bodies lay littered around. Necks were twisted, arms were severed, stomachs were made devoid of, among other twisted methods I could see.
In the center, a large crater marred the land, like a wound on the previously pristine body. Inside it, there were more bodies, or in this case, body parts. Some were cut cleanly, others were ripped apart, and some weren't recognizable at all, just mounds of flesh.
The temple itself looked fine; some damage could be seen along its pillars and walls, but the overall structure was still standing. Blood covered the walls, and some bodies were impaled on the edges of the roof, dripping blood down below.
Cursed Energy tainted the air, but it only clung to some of the bodies. Whichever group the Fujiwara had sent was composed of both sorcerers and mundane people, or those who depended on cursed tools. Trained assassins more likely. Although they didn't appear to act like normal assassins
This level of carnage only meant one of two things: they weren't as professional or tidy as how assassins were portrayed in my previous life… or they wanted to send a message. To whom? I had no idea.
There was a possibility that it was both reasons.
I reached the steps of the Temple, and there on the stairs, sitting, bleeding profusely from an X slash pattern across his chest, and barely breathing, was Himejima-san. His clothing lay in tatters; his arms were filled with cuts and bruises. He looked as if he had fought with everything he had. Seeing what he was trying to defend, he probably did.
He must've heard me approaching, as he shifted slightly to the side. He lifted his head slightly, proving he was still conscious. The scar on his forehead was open and bleeding profusely, covering the majority of his face.
For more than a minute, only the sound of the wind could be heard. None spoke. We just faced each other.
"Was it true?" he asked.
It was obvious what he meant. It was the only moment he reacted to anything the "messenger" had said.
The massacres.
"Yes," I responded with the truth. I was never one to shy away from it, not in my past life and even less in this one when I had nothing to care for, or fear.
His frame shook lightly. I wasn't sure if it was rage, sadness, or something else. It had always been hard to get a read on Himejima-san, but I knew for sure that my answer had rattled him deeply.
"Why?" he rasped out. Ah, it was anger then.
"They attacked me." Again, it was the truth.
"And those that hadn't?" he raised his head completely and looked at me directly in the eyes with those blank eyes of his.
Yes, that would unnerve him. After all, they had been innocent. I had justified myself with many excuses before, they would go alert the authorities from larger cities and cause me trouble, or that they would hunt me down in revenge, but if that was the case, I would've killed everyone, and I had only killed indiscriminately, not really hunting everyone down, just sending Dismantles without a care in the world. They had died because…
"They were in the way," I said, both the truth to him and me. That had been the simplest of reasons, didn't it? They had died because they had been around and behind those who had taken arms against me; I hadn't even noticed them most of the time, and I hadn't cared for collateral damage. Hell, I only actively avoided killing children, and even then, it was possible that I already had killed many with how carelessly I threw around Dismantle.
"You're a monster," he accused me, and honestly, by those like him who had never had anything to worry about, and valued the lives of others, I probably was one. "You're a curse that was born not from emotions, but of flesh and bone."
"Maybe," I admitted, not taking into consideration my memories from a previous life that I had lived hundreds of years in the future, knowing what I now know of Cursed Energy and Jujutsu Society it was possible I was the result of a ritual, or curse clinging to my mother during her pregnancy.
Or I was just a one in a million chance. I would never know and didn't care enough to look into it. If the answer revealed itself, good; if not, I was not going to waste my time looking for something that might not even exist. Either way, life went on.
"I don't care much for it, or anything…stopped caring after my mother died and my home was burnt to the ground." The words started to spill forth from my mouth before I could stop them. "You may be right, I could be a curse in human skin, you could also be wrong, and this I'm just a fluke, either way, I have to live with my actions, just like others have to live with theirs. Maybe in a thousand years people will learn not to attack that which looks different," and didn't I know that, "but until then, should they attack me, I will continue to put them down, because honestly I can't be bothered to try and subdue them, they made their choice when they decided to be intolerant assholes, they will die beside it."
A sigh escaped my lips as I finished. It looked like I had some things I had wanted to get out. I was colder in this life. I'm sure that if my previous self could see me now, he would be in denial, afraid, and repulsed by what I have become.
Himejima's breathing became slower and shallower. and with his last breaths, "W-we…n-never…should've…let you…in…I…n-never…should've…taught you," and with his last words said, his breathing stopped completely, and his body fell back to the stairs, like a puppet without strings.
Once more, the only sound across the temple-turned-graveyard was that of the wind blowing.
Without another word, I began to collect the bodies, as fast as I could, I dismantled some nearby trees, and made a giant funeral pyre with them. I laid the corpses on top of the wood. Soon, the crater was filled with logs and bodies.
Taking some of the temple's flint, I lit the funeral pyre. Jumping to the roof, I watched as the flames spread and began consuming all the bodies, the last body, and the one located at the top of the pyre. Himejima's body was the last one to become ashes.
My last thank you for all he taught me.
I took one last tour through the rooms and took the finest pants and footwear I could find; dead men did not need clothing after all. Stepping out, I no longer wore anything on my upper body. After everything I had said, I would no longer hide myself. If I was attacked, they died; if I wasn't, they lived. It was as simple as that.
Without looking back, I left the temple.
I took a great risk coming back, since Hizashi's comrades could've still been around. I didn't know their numbers or their techniques; there was a chance they could've finished the job. Luck was on my side today, but it wouldn't always be the case.
In prior years, I had thought myself the strongest around, and why wouldn't I, no one could challenge me; they all died so easily. Now I knew better.
It was a miracle that I had managed to learn Reverse Cursed Technique in my deathbed.
But no more miracles were guaranteed.
Yes, I used to believe I was the strongest.
And now I'm going to make it a reality.
I would stand at the top of this world.
I would not stop until sorcerers couldn't help but hesitate to confront me. Until they knew how hopeless it was to go against me. Until they didn't even dare to say my name.
In this moment right now, I swear to myself.
I would become the Strongest not only in this Era, but in every other era as well.
The Strongest in History.