Akira stirred in his bed, the faint light of dawn creeping through the dorm window. A full day had slipped by since his chaotic enrollment – a blur of unpacking, wandering the grounds, and dodging awkward small talk with Megumi. The guy was about as chatty as a cursed corpse, but at least he wasn't hostile. Akira had spent most of the time testing his new cursed energy manipulation, flexing it like a muscle he didn't know he had. It felt good, controlled, like he'd gone from shotgun blasts to sniper precision overnight.
A knock rattled the door, sharp and insistent. Akira groaned, rolling over. "Five more minutes, universe. I just got isekai'd – cut me some slack."
The knocking persisted. With a sigh, he hauled himself up, padding to the door in his rumpled clothes. Swinging it open, there stood Megumi, arms crossed, looking as impassive as ever. "Dinner's ready. Cafeteria's that way. Don't be late." He turned on his heel and walked off without another word.
Akira blinked, rubbing his eyes. Dinner? Shit, I slept through the whole day? Jet lag from the void must be a bitch. He smirked to himself. "Thanks for the wake-up call, Potential Man. Real warm welcome."
He freshened up quickly – splash of water on his face, quick change into the standard Jujutsu High uniform that had mysteriously appeared in his closet (ROB's doing, no doubt). The fabric felt sturdy, like it was woven with some anti-curse mojo. Heading out, he followed the scent of food wafting through the halls, his stomach growling in protest.
The cafeteria was a modest setup: long tables, vending machines humming in the corner, and a kitchen area where the magic – or in this case, the chaos – was happening. Akira pushed through the doors and spotted the second-year students scattered around. There was Maki Zenin, sharpening a cursed tool with a focus that could cut steel, her glasses glinting under the lights. Toge Inumaki sat quietly, munching on rice balls, his zipper mouth a dead giveaway. And then... Panda.
The massive, fluffy cursed corpse was behind the counter, apron tied around his waist (which looked comically small on him), wielding a spatula like a weapon. He was flipping something that resembled pancakes, but with the effort of someone defusing a bomb. Sweat – or whatever pandas sweat – beaded on his fur as he muttered to himself. "Gotta get the flip right... don't burn it, Panda..."
Megumi was already seated, picking at his plate. No Yuta, of course – the guy was off in Africa, training to become even more of a fraud in Akira's book. Copycat king, always stealing techniques like it's a buffet.
Akira grabbed a tray, sliding into a seat across from Megumi. "Evening, folks. Or is it morning? Time's weird here." He nodded at Panda. "Chef Panda? Didn't know you doubled as a cook. Smells decent – what's on the menu?"
Panda lumbered over, plopping a stack of slightly charred pancakes onto Akira's plate. "Panda's special! Made with effort!" He struck a pose, flexing unnecessarily.
Maki glanced up, smirking. "Don't get too excited. Last time he cooked, we had to exorcise the smoke curse it summoned."
Toge nodded solemnly. "Salmon."
Akira chuckled, digging in. The pancakes were... edible. Crunchy on the edges, fluffy inside, with a weird cursed energy aftertaste that made his tongue tingle. "Not bad, big guy. Beats instant ramen from my old life." Conversation flowed awkwardly at first – Maki grilling him on his background (he dodged with vague "came from nowhere special" BS), Toge communicating in onigiri code, and Megumi mostly silent. But Akira kept it light, dropping subtle sarcasm. "So, Maki, you're the one who kicks ass without cursed energy? Respect. In my book, that's more GOAT than half the frauds out there."
She raised an eyebrow, but a hint of a smile tugged at her lips. "Flattery won't get you far here, newbie."
Dinner wrapped up with everyone pitching in to clean – Panda washing dishes with surprising gentleness, his massive paws handling plates like fine china. Akira was wiping down a table when the door burst open, and in strolled Gojo Satoru, infinity radiating off him like he was the center of the universe.
"Evening, my precious students!" Gojo announced, blindfold somehow winking. "Hope you saved some for me – Panda's cooking is legendary."
Panda beamed. "All gone! Made with love!"
Gojo feigned heartbreak, clutching his chest. "Cruel! Anyway, fun's over. Akira, training grounds. Now. And bring the second-years and Megumi. Time to see what you're really made of."
Akira set down the rag, pulse quickening. Showtime. As they filed out, that familiar ping hit his mind. [System: New mission, host. Spar with Panda. Reward: Random power-up. Make it entertaining – no half-assing.]
Spar with the fluffy tank? Great. ROB, you sadistic kid.
The training grounds were lit by moonlight and barrier lights, the air crisp with residual energy. Gojo stood at the center, arms wide. "Alright, Akira. Let's assess your combat style and strength. Your opponent: Panda! No holding back – show me what that grade 1 energy can do."
Panda cracked his knuckles, grinning. "Let's go! Panda mode: Engage!"
Akira nodded, dropping into a stance. His cursed energy hummed under his skin, intermediate mastery making it feel like an extension of his will. Okay, let's test this out. Physical boost? None yet, but control's on point.
The spar kicked off with Panda charging like a furry freight train. Akira sidestepped, infusing his fist with energy and countering with a jab to the side. It connected with a thud, but Panda barely flinched – his durability was no joke, like punching a reinforced wall.
"Nice try!" Panda laughed, swinging a massive paw. Akira ducked, rolling under and popping up with an energy-charged kick to the knee. Panda staggered slightly, but retaliated with a spinning backhand that sent Akira skidding back, dirt kicking up.
Damn, he's strong. Akira shook it off, calm kicking in. He visualized the flow – shaping energy into a barrier just in time to block Panda's follow-up slam. The impact rattled his bones, but the shield held. "Not bad, fluffball. But let's crank it up."
He dashed in, unleashing a flurry of punches, each laced with precise cursed bursts. One grazed Panda's arm, drawing a grunt; another aimed at the core, but Panda twisted, countering with a headbutt that Akira barely evaded. The ground cracked where Panda's fist missed.
Panda pressed the advantage, his movements surprisingly agile for his size. A sweeping leg nearly tripped Akira, forcing him to leap back. He's got reach and tankiness. Gotta wear him down. Akira channeled energy into his legs for a burst of speed, circling Panda and landing a solid hit to the back. Panda roared playfully, spinning and grabbing Akira's arm in a vice grip.
"Gotcha!" Panda lifted him, slamming him down – but Akira twisted mid-air, using energy to cushion the fall and spring back with an uppercut. It smacked Panda's jaw, snapping his head back. For a moment, the fight was even: blows traded, energy clashing against raw strength. Akira's control shone – dodging, weaving, infusing strikes with just enough power to chip away.
But Panda's endurance won out. A final, overwhelming tackle caught Akira off-guard, pinning him to the ground with sheer weight and power. "Yield?" Panda asked, not even breathing hard.
Akira tapped out, smirking through the dirt. "Yeah, yeah. Good fight, you walking teddy bear."
The group clapped – Maki nodding approvingly, Toge muttering "Tuna mayo," Gojo grinning like a proud dad.
[System: Mission complete! Reward: +50% boost to all physical capabilities. Feel the pump, host.]
A surge hit Akira – muscles tightening, senses sharpening, everything amplified. He flexed, feeling stronger, faster, tougher. Hell yeah. Now we're talking OP.
Gojo sauntered over, handing him a folded mission paper with a flourish. "Impressive, kid. You've got style. Now, real work: You and Megumi are heading to Sugisawa Municipal High School in Sendai. Retrieve a cursed object – one of Sukuna's fingers. Easy peasy, right?"
Akira unfolded it, scanning the details. The finger. The one that starts it all. Yuji's about to eat it and become vessel boy.
Before he could respond, the system pinged again. [System: Choice mission! 1. Go with Megumi but don't let Yuji eat the finger. Reward: Absolute mastery over your cursed energy. OR 2. Go with Megumi and let Yuji eat the finger. Reward: Enhanced body like Yuji Itadori. Choose wisely – entertainment value high on this one.]
Akira's mind raced, sarcasm bubbling. ROB, you sneaky bastard. Butterfly effect time. What'll it be?
[A/N: Drop some stones if you want to see more chapters!]