The battlefield was a shattered graveyard. Churned earth, splintered trees, and the sharp stench of blood and burned cursed energy hung thick in the heavy, stagnant air.
Souten stood at the center of the devastation, barely upright. Blood poured freely from the ragged stump where his arm had once been, soaking into the ruined dirt beneath his feet. His chest heaved with each shallow, ragged breath, his body trembling from the effort to remain standing.
Ahead of him, the Finger Bearer loomed—a monstrous, warped abomination, its grotesque form pulsing with raw, malevolent energy. The ground seemed to vibrate beneath its twisted limbs, each exhalation releasing a sickening wave of oppressive power.
Behind Souten, Maki, Panda, and Toge struggled to stay upright. Their bodies bore the brutal marks of battle—bloodied, bruised, exhausted—but their eyes remained hard, defiant.
The Finger Bearer let out a guttural, gurgling laugh—a sound like shards of glass grinding together inside a broken throat. It flexed its massive claws lazily, as if already savoring the inevitable end.
It didn't need to speak. Its very existence screamed its intent: You're nothing.
Souten gritted his teeth so hard they threatened to crack. His legs buckled slightly. His vision blurred and darkened at the edges. Every survival instinct screamed at him to collapse, to crawl, to surrender.
But something deeper—hotter—burned inside him.
He thought of his father's voice, steady and unyielding, echoing through the chaos:
"Trust those who choose to walk with you. Stand with them. Fight with them. That is the strength that endures."
Souten swallowed thickly, copper and bitterness coating his tongue.
"You know," he rasped, staggering a step forward, forcing his battered body past his comrades. His voice cracked but carried like a blade across the ruined clearing. "You have a lot of nerve acting so cocky."
The Finger Bearer's body twitched, twitching with growing anticipation.
"When a sorcerer is backed against the wall," Souten continued, his voice gaining strength with every word, "they don't crumble. They fight. They grow stronger."
He took another step, each movement leaving smears of blood in the dirt.
"I don't care if you're stronger than me. I don't care if you have one of Sukuna's fingers. Hell, I don't even care if I die here."
He paused, eyes burning with something fiercer than fear.
"All I care about—" he drew a rattling breath, "—is protecting my team and kicking your ass."
A visible ripple passed through his teammates. Panda clenched his fists tighter. Maki lifted her blade, setting her stance with renewed focus. Toge, blood still trailing from the corner of his mouth, straightened, his expression sharpening.
The Finger Bearer's grotesque body pulsed, sensing the shift. No longer amused—only enraged.
Souten's left hand curled into a trembling fist.
He could barely stand. He could barely breathe.
And yet—he stood.
Move. Fight. Protect.
With a final, desperate surge of will, Souten hurled himself forward, fist drawn back—not with strength, not with perfected technique, but with something far stronger.
Conviction.
The world seemed to narrow.
He could see it—the cursed energy within him—aligning, tightening, not through control, but through instinct.
And then—
CRACK.
A deafening rupture split the clearing, a noise so violent and alien it seemed to tear reality itself.
A searing burst of black lightning exploded from the point of impact.
The Finger Bearer's body recoiled violently, cursed energy fracturing like glass struck by a sledgehammer.
The ground split open beneath their feet. The twisted trees groaned and bowed. The air itself warped and screamed.
Black Flash.
The force of the impact hurled the Finger Bearer backward with a guttural, rattling snarl.
For a frozen, endless heartbeat, the world stood still.
Maki, Panda, and Toge stared, mouths slightly open, shock frozen onto their battered faces.
Even Souten stood motionless, his fist still embedded against the curse's twisted form, eyes wide with stunned realization.
He had done it.
Against all odds, against all reason.
The first Black Flash.
And everything had just changed.
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Time seemed to slow.
Souten staggered a half step backward, staring down at his hand.
His fingers buzzed—not from pain, but from the raw, overwhelming connection to his cursed energy.
It was as if every thread of energy inside him had snapped into perfect alignment in that instant.
His body trembled slightly, not from weakness, but from the sheer intensity of the clarity flooding through him.
So this... this is Black Flash.
He could feel everything — his own cursed energy, the vibration in the ground, the twisting fury of the Finger Bearer's energy struggling to recover.
The world hadn't slowed down.
He had finally caught up to it.
Across from him, the Finger Bearer hunched over, its grotesque form spasming. Smoke and cracked cursed energy leaked from its gut where Souten's Black Flash had landed. For the first time, the monster faltered, its aura flickering, unstable.
Maki, Panda, and Toge remained frozen for a breath longer, struggling to comprehend what they'd just witnessed.
Then Panda let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. "No way," he muttered, awe lacing his voice.
Toge wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes wide.
Maki gripped her blade tighter, a rare, fierce grin flashing across her bruised face.
Souten exhaled shakily, feeling the pulse of cursed energy snapping into perfect alignment once more. The world around him shifted—not slower, but clearer. Every twitch of the Finger Bearer's muscles, every fluctuation of cursed energy in the air — he could see it now.
No more hesitation. No more doubt.
He moved.
Before the Finger Bearer could react, Souten was on it, his body moving faster, cleaner than it ever had before.
With a cry that tore from somewhere deep inside, he spun, driving his heel upward into the curse's gut.
CRACK.
Another deafening rupture exploded through the air.
Second Black Flash.
The Finger Bearer was blasted backward, skidding through the dirt, crashing through shattered remnants of stone and wood. A strangled, monstrous sound burst from its throat — a gurgle of fury and confusion.
Souten landed in a crouch, breath hitching—not from pain, but from the overwhelming sharpness of it all. His legs trembled slightly, not out of weakness, but because the world around him had sharpened into something blindingly clear. Every thread of cursed energy, every shift of movement, every breath of his enemies — he could see it, feel it, command it. The flow of cursed energy within him wasn't steady — it was alive, responding to his will like an extension of himself.
And then—he felt it.
Something different.
A warmth growing deep within his core, lighter than cursed energy but no less potent. It wasn't violent. It wasn't raging.
It was steady. Calm.
A flash of memory— Gojo's voice, casual but serious:
"You can't hammer it into shape. You need to multiply negative energy by itself — negative on negative — to create positive energy. Think of it like flipping a coin midair. Feel it. Don't overthink it."
Souten inhaled sharply, realization blossoming behind his tired eyes.
Manipulating cursed energy had always been deliberate, forceful, something he had to command into action. But now—after the Black Flashes—
It felt effortless.
Like breathing.
He focused inward, letting instinct guide him rather than force. He could feel the negative energy folding over itself, multiplying, flipping from negative to negative — until it inverted.
Positive energy.
He directed it, almost without thinking, toward the searing, mangled stump at his shoulder.
And he felt it—cells stitching together, bone rebuilding, muscle knitting back into place.
Slowly, almost impossibly, his arm began to regrow.
The blood loss was immense. Even with Reverse Cursed Technique working now, it was costing him dearly. He could feel his cursed energy reserves draining rapidly, most of it being devoured by the need to recreate lost blood, tissue, and nerves.
Souten gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay steady. This wasn't something he could sustain for long.
Across from him, the Finger Bearer, staggering to its feet, let out a roar of rage, its cursed energy wild and unstable.
But this time, Souten didn't flinch.
He didn't falter.
For the first time since the battle began—
He was ready.
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Souten's eyes locked onto the damage he had already inflicted. The gut—where his Black Flashes had struck—was cracked, unstable. He could see it now with perfect clarity: the cursed energy there sputtered and faltered, no longer flowing freely. The Finger Bearer's core had been weakened.
That's where he would finish this.
The Finger Bearer lunged, a blur of twisted limbs and raw malice. But Souten was faster.
He stepped inside the beast's strike with effortless precision, weaving through the air thick with cursed energy. His newly regrown arm tensed — not in hesitation, but in perfect timing.
A single thought crystallized in his mind: End this.
He shifted his weight, driving his fist upward in a brutal arc toward the beast's exposed center — the place where his earlier Black Flashes had already cracked its cursed energy flow.
The Finger Bearer, arrogant even in its panic, swung a clawed hand to crush him.
Souten didn't flinch. He moved with instinct sharper than thought.
As his fist connected—
CRACK.
Reality split once more. The earth shook beneath them. The air rippled like a pond struck by a stone.
Third Black Flash.
Black lightning exploded outward from the point of impact, engulfing the Finger Bearer's torso in an eruption of cursed energy devastation.
The curse staggered, its body jerking violently — a hollow, distorted screech ripping from its throat.
Before it could recover—
"Now!" Souten barked, voice raw but steady.
Maki and Panda surged forward, Maki's blade slicing downward and Panda preparing a crushing blow — but the Finger Bearer, sensing the danger, twisted violently to dodge.
Before it could escape—
Toge, blood still leaking from his mouth, forced out a strained word:
"Stop!"
The curse froze mid-motion, its muscles locking up under the weight of cursed speech.
Souten didn't waste the opening.
Focusing his cursed energy, he reversed the flow instinctively, forming a small, searing ball of white light in his palm — the embodiment of White Ledger.
He thrust it forward.
The ball of purified energy launched like a bullet, striking the Finger Bearer square in the gut — right where its cursed energy was already destabilized.
The effect was instant.
The Finger Bearer's body spasmed violently as its soul and cursed energy were momentarily separated. Its cursed energy control shattered, leaving it wide open, its body sluggish and brittle.
Maki's blade crashed into its kneecaps with brutal precision, and Panda's full-body tackle sent the creature reeling backward.
Souten surged forward again, no longer fighting alone — fighting with them.
Together, they overwhelmed the curse, their attacks landing in perfect, ruthless succession. Every strike a declaration. Every movement a bond forged in the crucible of survival.
The Finger Bearer tried to rise one last time, cursed energy sputtering and unstable — but it was too late.
Souten gathered the last of his strength, his arm burning with exertion and will, and drove his fist into the curse's center one final time — no Black Flash needed, just raw, burning conviction.
The Finger Bearer collapsed with a hollow, final snarl, its monstrous body crumpling into the dirt.
Silence.
Only the harsh sound of their ragged breathing filled the clearing.
Souten staggered back, chest heaving, his body swaying dangerously. But he remained standing.
For now.
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The battlefield was still. The only sound was the ragged breathing of the survivors and the faint sizzle of cursed energy dissipating from the Finger Bearer's fallen form.
Souten approached the creature's crumpled body cautiously, his legs heavy but steady, every step leaving a small trail of blood from wounds he was too exhausted to notice.
He raised his hand, where traces of the White Ledger's purified energy still lingered, glowing faintly in his palm—a soft, steady light in the ruin around them.
Panda and Maki watched in silence, too exhausted to speak but unwilling to look away. Even Toge, bloodied and drained, kept his gaze locked on Souten with quiet determination.
Souten exhaled slowly, steadying his mind against the spinning world around him. He gathered the purified cursed energy into his hand, letting it condense, stabilize—a small sphere of white-blue light that pulsed gently with each heartbeat.
Without hesitation, he pressed his palm lightly against the remains.
For a breath, there was only stillness.
Then— a ripple, like a stone breaking the surface of a still pond.
The Finger Bearer's grotesque body began to convulse, the lingering malevolence peeling away layer by layer, stripped down by the purifying touch.
From within the collapsing mass of cursed flesh, something began to emerge—reshaped, reborn.
A figure.
Towering over the clearing, standing nearly nine feet tall. Her body was clad in ethereal, spectral armor that shimmered like mist, blurring the line between spirit and reality. Four arms extended from her armored form, each moving with poised, lethal grace. Her silhouette echoed a figure out of ancient legend—terrifying yet awe-inspiring, as if she had stepped from a myth.
Her eyes, once wild and hollow like the curse's, now gleamed with intelligent focus—sharp, but calm. Her presence was overwhelming, but not oppressive—it was protective, fierce, and loyal.
The Shikigami stepped forward, moving with the smooth, purposeful grace of a warrior, and knelt smoothly before Souten.
"I am yours to command, Master," she said, her voice carrying a serene strength that resonated in the air around them.
Souten stared at her, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten. This was no ordinary Shikigami— This was something new. Something born of battle, of survival, of conviction.
Before anyone could react further, a familiar voice cut through the clearing:
"Man, you kids are something else," Gojo said lazily, his blindfold pulled slightly down to reveal one glinting blue eye. He strolled casually into the clearing, hands stuffed into his pockets, as if he hadn't just arrived at the aftermath of a battlefield.
"Special grade curse?" Gojo whistled, surveying the wreckage. "Black Flashes? Reverse Cursed Technique? Oh, and what's this — a new Shikigami too?" He tilted his head, grinning. "Not bad for a day's work, Souten-kun."
Souten managed a tired, crooked smile.
"Good job, all of you," Gojo said, his tone shifting—still light, but carrying a rare, unmistakable note of pride. "You saved a lot of people today."
For the first time since the battle started, Souten allowed himself to truly breathe.
They had survived. They had protected.
And in that moment, standing among his friends, Souten realized something deeper—
He wasn't alone anymore.
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Later, back at Tokyo Jujutsu High, the atmosphere inside Principal Yaga's office was tense enough to cut with a knife.
Souten, Panda, Maki, and Toge stood in a stiff line, their uniforms scorched, patched, and stained with the aftermath of battle. Bandages peeked out from beneath sleeves and collars. Despite their battered appearances, each stood upright, their exhaustion masked by the quiet pride lingering between them.
Yaga sat behind his desk, arms crossed, his gaze hard and steady. He tapped a pen slowly against a folder brimming with reports before finally speaking, his voice carrying a heavy weight.
"You disobeyed a direct order," he said, each word falling like a hammer. "You engaged a Special Grade Curse without proper support. You placed yourselves—and civilians—at extreme risk."
The reprimand hung in the air. None of them spoke. None of them flinched.
Yaga's eyes narrowed slightly, studying them. The silence stretched—until he leaned back, exhaling a slow breath.
"But," he said, his tone shifting subtly, "you also made the right call."
He picked up a sheet of paper and scanned it briefly.
"You neutralized a threat that could have wiped out an entire village. You worked together. You survived. And most importantly, you retrieved a Sukuna Finger from Souten's new Shikigami."
He set the paper down with deliberate care.
"And according to Gojo's assessment—" Yaga's lips twitched into something almost resembling a smirk.
"—Souten's newly created Shikigami demonstrates cursed energy levels and technique control on par with Special Grade classifications."
Souten blinked, struggling to process it.
Yaga continued, voice firm but not unkind.
"Because of your exemplary performance, and Gojo's personal recommendation, Souten Mikazuki, you are hereby promoted to First Grade Sorcerer."
The room went still.
Panda gave a low, impressed whistle. Maki shot Souten a sideways glance that almost—almost—resembled approval. Even Toge offered a small, tired nod.
"Due to your short tenure at the school, you will not be elevated to Special Grade immediately," Yaga added, voice returning to a hard edge, "but this promotion is more than earned."
Souten bowed his head, the gesture filled with quiet gratitude.
Yaga's gaze swept over the team once more, softer now.
"You all did well. Better than many expected. Take pride in that—but don't grow complacent. Greater challenges will come."
They bowed formally, murmured their thanks, and turned to leave.
As they exited the office, the cool hallway air hit them, and the tension in Souten's chest finally loosened. Panda clapped him on the back hard enough to make him stumble, laughing.
"First Grade already, huh?" Panda said, grinning. "Guess we better start calling you Senpai."
Maki snorted, rolling her eyes but saying nothing.
Toge simply smiled and gave a thumbs-up.
Souten chuckled quietly, the warmth of camaraderie settling in his chest.
He had fought. He had survived. He had protected.
And now—he had a future he was ready to fight for.
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Later that night, Souten sat cross-legged on the floor of his dorm room, the moonlight spilling in through the window and casting long, soft shadows across the walls.
The day's events still whirled in his mind — the fight, the Black Flashes, the promotion. It was too much to unpack at once.
Slowly, he lifted his hand and summoned her.
A ripple in the air, and his Shikigami appeared — towering, silent, and kneeling before him with effortless grace. The spectral armor shimmered faintly, her four arms folded neatly at her sides, awaiting his command.
Souten studied her quietly for a moment.
"What... exactly are you?" he asked, voice low but curious. "You're unlike any Shikigami I've ever seen. You can speak. You can think."
The Shikigami tilted her head slightly, considering the question.
Then she spoke, her voice calm and measured:
"Based on my self-assessment, Master, it appears the influence of Sukuna's Finger during my formation significantly altered my nature."
She raised one hand, flexing her clawed fingers with precise control.
"The residual will embedded in the Finger seems to have granted me heightened intelligence — beyond what a typical Shikigami possesses."
Souten blinked, a little stunned by the clinical clarity of her explanation.
"And the four arms?" he asked.
"A tactical advantage," she answered smoothly. "It allows me greater versatility in hand-to-hand combat and simultaneous manipulation of multiple cursed techniques, should the need arise."
She paused, thoughtful.
"Additionally," she continued, "I sense that I am capable of independent strategy formulation if permitted. My loyalty, however, remains absolute. I exist solely to serve and protect you, Master."
Souten raised an eyebrow, genuine surprise flickering across his face. "Multiple cursed techniques?" he echoed. "I didn't even know Shikigami other than the Ten Shadows could wield techniques at all."
She inclined her head slightly, acknowledging the rarity.
"Ordinarily, that would be true, Master. However, I am not a traditional Shikigami. Based on the limited information I can infer about my own nature, I have deviated from the standard mold. The possibility of wielding a cursed technique—or even multiple—is not outside the realm of logic."
Souten leaned back slightly, overwhelmed for a moment — not in fear, but in awe. She wasn't just a tool. She was practically a partner.
"You're... impressive," he said honestly.
The Shikigami bowed her head with humble precision.
"Your praise is my honor."
The Shikigami shifted slightly, her expression unreadable beneath the shimmer of her spectral armor.
"Master," she said quietly, "there is another observation I must share."
Souten straightened slightly, attentive.
"Given my deviation from traditional Shikigami and the influence I carry, it is likely that others—both allies and enemies—will react unpredictably once they perceive my true nature. Some may fear me. Others may covet my existence."
Her voice remained calm, but there was a note of grave seriousness beneath the words.
"I advise caution, Master. If you permit it, I can monitor the behavior and body language of those around you. While unmaterialized, I can observe through your senses and communicate mentally if danger or betrayal becomes apparent."
Souten blinked, absorbing the weight of her offer. An unseen guardian, a mind sharpened like a blade, watching his back even when he couldn't.
He nodded once, slowly.
"Yeah," he murmured. "I'd like that."
The Shikigami bowed her head once more, a promise without words.
Finally, Souten allowed himself a small, tired smile.
Maybe... just maybe, he really wasn't walking this path alone anymore.
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