"What a beautiful morning to be alive!"
A wide grin stretched across his face as the morning sun poured over the neighborhood.
The light felt far too bright after the gloom, yet a steady routine was maintained.
Breakfast was shoveled down with a fierce efficiency, the taste barely registering before his older sister's hand reached out to lead the way toward kindergarten.
Hmmm... I need to train. I mean, a lot of training. With this Cursed Energy overflowing within me, it's highly recommended for me to train in Martial Arts.
Even with the legendary skillsets of Dante, his head remained firmly on his shoulders. Mentors like Toji could provide the brutality required for the Jujutsu world, but a craving for discipline had begun to take root.
It wasn't a reprisal for a cocky attitude; rather, it was a realization that learning from regular people still held immense value.
So the plan began to take shape: a martial arts dojo would serve as a disciplinary mindset.
With the Blood of Sparda flowing through the veins, an optimization of time was expected to yield a massive margin of growth.
After all, whether it was a playground bully or a Grade 1 curse, a punch to the throat remained a universal language.
However, a frown appeared on Yoichi's face as the atmosphere changed.
The air around the kindergarten grew stagnant and suffocating, mimicking the sensation of walking into a room filled with invisible smoke. A sharp contrast to the previous morning was felt; there hadn't been a single spirit lingering here yesterday.
Through his golden eyes, multiple shadows and twisted figures were seen clinging to the rafters and lurking beneath the colorful playground equipment.
The place was crawling with curses.
Weak, pathetic fly-heads and Grade 4s dominated the area, but the sheer density of Cursed Energy could make an ordinary sorcerer's skin crawl.
What are cursed spirits?
These beings were supernatural, malicious beings born from the accumulation of negative human emotions such as fear, anger, and stress leaking over time.
They had been humanity's shadow since ancient times, growing more bloated and powerful as society flourished, all while remaining invisible to the average person.
That's why seeing them under the broad daylight was truly unusual in Yoichi's mind.
A heavy pressure settled on the shoulder as a fly-head curse, wearing a twisted smile, perched right next to the ear. The stench of the cursed spirit was disgusting, especially with his improved senses.
Without a word, a hand was torn away from Asuka's grip. A sudden spin on the heel and a fist was launched with the nimbleness of an acrobat.
CRACK.
The smiling curse was blasted into nothingness, leaving nothing but a ripple in the atmosphere.
"Yoichi!" Asuka stared at him, bewildered.
"What's wrong? Why are you hitting the air like a crazy person?"
Yoichi let out a slow breath, his golden eyes still scanning the yard. "It was nothing. Just a mosquito. I got it."
"Are you joking me?" Asuka asked, crossing her arms. "You're swinging at thin air, Yoichi."
He didn't blink. "No, I'm not?"
The awkward silence lasted only a second before Asuka moved in and pinched his cheeks hard until he squirmed. She teased, convinced her brother was just in his chuunibyou phase.
"So cute!"
Then, a hand dragged him toward the entrance.
"Alright then, Mr. Hero. Time for class."
As they reached the school, a heavy sensation of dread caused his heart to sink.
The interior was crawling with dozens of Grade 4 spirits, huddling in every corner like oversized pests, their distorted limbs scraping against the walls.
Why are there so many of them here? Is this Gojo's fault? Or...
Is it me? Am I the one attracting them?
Probably not... I hope.
The classroom door clicked shut, leaving the mood thick with a metallic odor, but Ms. Sato remained paralyzed at the chalkboard, her chalk-stained fingers trembling as they hovered over the slate.
"My head... It's spinning..." A faint mumble escaped her lips. "So tired... did I... even sleep? I can't... breathe..."
Well, no shit.
A particularly nasty Grade 4 curse was perched on her shoulder. Its bloated multi-eyed form pressed down as the limbs were wrapped around her neck, sucking the vitality from her skin.
"Ms. Sato, wait!" Yoichi's youthful voice interrupted, cutting through her haze. "There's a stain of chalk on your shoulder. Let me clean it."
The teacher stood frozen, her eyes wide and vacant. "Chalk...?"
A chair was dragged across the floor with a sharp screech. Hopping onto the seat to gain the high ground, his golden gaze was leveled directly at the smiling curse.
It hissed, but Curse's reaction was far too slow.
A relaxed fluid motion of the hand followed.
A gentle yet deadly slap channeled through his hand, and with a sharp crack, the pesky spirit exploded into a cloud of purple sparks.
The silence that followed was actually peaceful for once. A long, shaky exhale was released by Ms. Sato, her spine finally straightening as the literal weight of her misery was blasted into oblivion.
"Wow, Yoichi, you're quite the little helper," Ms. Sato remarked, stretching her neck with a look of pure bliss. "I guess I just needed to stand up straight. That 'chalk' must have been a lucky charm!"
Nevertheless, the praise went unheard.
This isn't enough.
Exterminating one fly-head was a joke when the entire perimeter remained crawling with malicious energy. Every second these people spent here was a gamble with their sanity and safety.
Looks like the party's just getting started.
...
"Yoichi? Oh my goodness—what happened to you?" Michelle gasped. "Did you fall? Were the other boys being mean?"
"Just... playing hard, Mom," Yoichi replied.
She didn't buy it. The school had already called, mentioning how Yoichi had been "unusually energetic," essentially beating up the air in every corner of the building.
He had spent his entire day hunting, expelling dozens of Grade 4 spirits that had been infesting the school.
However, Yoichi didn't mind the strange looks.
By using physical gifts to hit the spirits' fragile bodies, he had turned the playground into a proper training zone.
The day had been the most fulfilling one of his life.
"Bath. Now," Michelle commanded, pointing a finger toward the bathroom. "You're covered in dust everywhere."
After scrubbing off the day's "battle grime," Yoichi joined the family at the dining table and didn't wait for small talk.
"I've decided. I want to enroll in a Martial Arts dojo."
Michelle blinked in surprise. "Martial arts? I thought you were set on being a financial investor? You were so intense about your 'future portfolio'... why this?"
"Exactly!" Asuka interjected. "Mom, he was acting totally weird this morning! He's having a total chuunibyou moment, fighting invisible monsters in the yard!"
Kiyoshi's frown deepened as he looked at his son. "Is there something wrong, Yoichi? Are you being bullied? Be honest with me."
Yoichi shook his head calmly. "Nothing is wrong, Dad. I just want to train. A healthy body is a healthy mind, right? I can't invest in my future if I'm not physically ready for it."
Before his awakening, he'd planned to be a financial titan, using his future knowledge to build a king's fortune.
It was a safe, mundane, and lucrative path.
But seeing the "rot" changed everything.
What use are interest rates when entities like Sukuna or Gojo can erase cities on a whim?
Money could buy comfort, but only training against the supernatural could buy their safety.
After what felt like an eternity, the tension in Kiyoshi's shoulders came out, replaced by a resigned nod.
"Fine," Kiyoshi said. "If you're that serious about it, I won't stand in your way. I actually have some old connections to a few reputable dojos around the city. I can make some calls tomorrow."
"Wait, for real?" Asuka leaned forward, her earlier teasing forgotten. "What kind of Martial Arts, then? Are you gonna do the movie stuff?"
Yoichi stayed calm, his gaze steady. "Let me see... probably Karate or Muay Thai."
...
The sun was up as Kiyoshi, Michelle, and Yoichi headed out. Kiyoshi had settled on a Kyokushin Karate dojo in Kanagawa, a style known for its brutal "full contact" conditioning. Near Tokyo, it was the perfect hub for high-level training.
At the end of the street, they met Noborou, an eccentric neighbor who lived with a reclusive son.
While other kids found his stories about the war or farming boring, Yoichi was the only one who ever listened, earning the old man's appreciation.
Yoichi greeted him with a polite bow that felt far too disciplined for a toddler.
"Such a nice occasion! Where are you all heading so early?" Noborou asked, leaning on his cane.
"Good morning, Noborou-san," Kiyoshi replied. "The little one here has decided he wants to learn Martial Arts. We're heading to the dojo."
"Hahaha! That's great!" Noborou's laugh was raspy but genuine. "A warrior in the making! You know, back in my day, we didn't have fancy dojos with mats. We used to train in the mountains, carrying buckets of water until our shoulders felt like they were falling off..."
It was the "Old Man Special"—a long-winded story about the hardships of the past.
Kiyoshi waited for a polite opening before checking his watch. "We'd love to hear more, but we're on a bit of a schedule. Please excuse us."
Noborou simply waved his hand, a wide grin on his face. "Go on then! Don't let the fire go out!"
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