7 Hibiscus and Secrets
June 6, 2018
Steam billowed out of the bathroom as I stepped out, a satisfied sigh escaping my lips. The daily warm-up routine from the system was brutal as always, but I had to admit, I could feel myself get stronger every time I did it.
Walking towards my bed, I was met with a surprise. Folded neatly was a new uniform. Curiosity piqued, I crossed the room and picked it up. Two pairs of navy blue pants lay on top – harem pants and the more traditional straight-leg style. Three shirts completed the set: two standard uniform tops emblazoned with the Jujutsu Tech emblem and a single navy blue windbreaker.
Now this was more my style. Ditching the straight-legs, I opted for the freedom of the harem pants. Pulling on a plain black t-shirt, I threw on the standard uniform top since the windbreaker would be too informal for meeting my new classmates. Standing before the mirror, I examined my reflection.
The uniform looked...well, like a uniform. Standard issue, designed for functionality over fashion. But the golden buttons added a touch of style, a hint at the rich history of Jujutsu Tech. Maybe that was just wishful thinking.
My eyes drifted to the wild black hair that stuck out stubbornly in every direction. Would it ever settle down? Sighing, I ran a hand through it, a futile attempt to tame the unruly locks.
A knock on the door startled me out of my self-examination. "Yo, Murakami! Ijichi is waiting downstairs!" Itadori's voice boomed through the door.
"Hold on!" I called back, hastily grabbing my trusty pair of Converse, my only shoes for now. Shoving my feet in, I rushed to the door, only to be greeted by Itadori smiling at me.
"I call shotgun!" he proclaimed before darting down the hallway.
Behind him, I could only chuckle softly while walking down the hallway. Today was the day we would finally pick up the other two first years and start delving into the world of cursed energy.
We jogged downstairs, the scent of fresh air and early morning dew filling my nostrils. At the school entrance, Ijichi's car was already waiting, its black exterior gleaming in the sunlight. As we approached, Fushiguro rolled down the front window, his usual unimpressed scowl in place.
"You guys are late," he declared flatly. "Get in."
I shrugged. "Better late than never, right?" Sliding into the backseat, I looked around as Itadori hopped in next to me.
With Ijichi behind the wheel, the car pulled away from the school grounds. "So, where are we picking these two up?" I asked.
"Looks like they're meeting us in Harajuku," Ijichi responded.
Itadori shifted in his seat. "Hey, where's Gojo-sensei, anyway? Shouldn't he be with us?"
"He had a meeting," Ijichi explained, eyes fixed on the road. "Said he'd be at the rendezvous point before they arrived."
Seeing that we had some time before we arrived, I mentally called out to the system.
"System, open status panel."
Instantly, the familiar blue screen materialized before me:
[Name: Kaito Murakami
Title: None
Grade: 4
Level: 1 (985/1000 XP)
Techniques:
Enhanced Development (MAX)
Phantom Threads (Lvl 1)
Attributes:
Strength: C+
Agility: B+
Endurance: C+
Vitality: C+
Sense: C+
Curse Energy: SSS+
Cursed Energy Control: D
Attribute Points: 9
Inventory:
Cursed Katana
Guide to Cursed Energy Control]
I smiled slightly, noticing the subtle pulsing around the Vitality attribute. It had risen to C+, a testament to the grueling training I'd been putting myself through.
"Hey, System," I thought, a question forming in my mind. "How much would it cost to bump Cursed Energy Control up to D+?"
[Upgrading Cursed Energy Control from D to D+ would require 15 attribute points,] the System responded promptly.
I glanced back at my status panel, my gaze lingering on the 9 attribute points I had available. It was tempting, the idea of increasing my control over this strange new power. But as I looked at the C+ next to Vitality, a different thought occurred to me.
"I should save these points for when I can't level them up naturally," I mused silently.
It was a strategy that made sense. With the daily quests and the training I was going to be doing, I knew I'd have plenty of opportunities to earn more attribute points. Better to hold onto them, to keep them in reserve for when a critical moment arrived.
As we neared Harajuku, the landscape began to transform. Buildings were splashed with vibrant murals and streets teemed with fashion enthusiasts sporting cutting-edge trends. The energy of the place was infectious, and I found myself mirroring Itadori's excitement as he craned his neck out the window.
"Whoa, check this place out!" he exclaimed, his voice barely containing his enthusiasm. "Maybe we could go shopping after we pick up our classmates."
Fushiguro turned around, giving him a deadpan stare. "Shopping? Seriously?"
"Hey, a guy's gotta look good," I retorted, "Can't just wear a uniform all the time, right?"
"Yeah? With what money?" Fushiguro asked.
"With yours, of course!" I declared. "You are technically our senior since you've been doing this longer, right? So treat us to something!"
Fushiguro's scowl deepened as he mulled it over, a flicker of annoyance in his dark eyes. Finally, he relented with a reluctant sigh. "If you survive your first mission, I'll get you guys something, but don't expect anything fancy."
Itadori and I let out victorious cheers. We glanced at each other, a mischievous glint in our eyes. Looks like Fushiguro was about to discover that his wallet might be in more danger than any low-level curse.
The car pulled up to a bustling intersection in Harajuku, depositing us on the curb. As Ijichi drove away, we were left to navigate the maze of vibrant storefronts and the surging crowds.
"Whoa!" I stumbled back a step, shielding my eyes from the onslaught of bright neon signs. The air crackled with pop music blasting from hidden speakers, mingling with the smell of crepe batter and grilled meats.
"Right?" Itadori chirped, his voice barely rising above the roar of the crowd. A woman with blood red hair squeezed past us, leaving a lingering scent of sugary perfume. "Man, how are we gonna find them in this chaos?"
Before Fushiguro could unleash his inevitable wave of cynicism, my attention snapped towards the red haired woman heading towards a small shop near the station with a sign boasting an impressive variety of iced drinks.
"Imma get something to drink, y'all want anything?" I asked, tilting my head towards the shop.
Fushiguro shook his head. "No, I'm good."
"I'm gonna get a popsicle," Itadori announced, his eyes already zeroing in on a vendor across the street. "Be back in a sec!"
Waving, I turned and strolled toward the drink spot.
The shop's door chimed softly as I stepped inside, and a burst of cool air washed over me, a welcome change from the Harajuku heat. A sweet, fruity scent hung heavy in the air – mango? Pineapple? My gaze landed on the woman ahead of me, her blood-red hair a startling splash of color against the subdued shop interior.
Her uniform was immediately striking. It shared the dark blue of my own Jujutsu Tech outfit, but everything else was different. The fitted top, sleeves long enough to graze her knuckles, the high neckline… there was a strange elegance to the design. I caught a glimpse of a white band, like a bandage, tucked neatly over her waist, and high waist pants that flared mid-calf. Whatever this was, it wasn't standard-issue.
Before I could dwell on her clothes for too long, an older woman with a warm, wrinkled smile emerged from the back. "Welcome to my shop, dearies, what would you like to drink?"
The red-haired woman turned slightly, the sugary scent of her perfume swirling around me. "Oh, this is my first time here," she said, voice surprisingly soft in contrast to her bold appearance. "Do you have any recommendations?"
"Our hibiscus green tea is delightful," the old woman replied, "Perhaps for both of you?" Her eyes locked onto mine.
Was this lady for real? "Yeah, I'll have the same," I said, deciding to go with the flow,. "Light ice, please."
The woman nodded and disappeared into the back to prepare our drinks. I took the chance to get a better look at the red-haired woman. There was something I sensed, something beneath the surface that I couldn't quite put my finger on.
Suddenly, she turned, her startling green eyes locking with mine. "You don't look like a hibiscus type," she said.
I leaned in slightly, tilting my head. "Really? And what do I look like?"
The girl's lips quirked in a half-smile. "That's for me to know..." she started, but before she could finish, the gentle chiming of a bell from the back of the shop interrupted us. The old woman emerged with two medium sized cups in hand.
The girl looked at the drinks, then back at me. "And you to find out," she finished, her tone softer this time.
I accepted the drink with a nod of thanks, the cool condensation on the cup a welcome relief from the heat.
"I'm Kaito Murakami," I said. It's nice to meet you…
"Sumiko," she replied, "Izumi Sumiko."
"Izumi Sumiko… That's a pretty name you have."
Sumiko's eyes widened slightly, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "Thank you," she said.
"That'll be 800 yen, dearies," the old woman said with a warm smile.
I pulled out a few bills from my pocket. "I got this," I said, handing the money to the old woman.
Sumiko's hand paused in mid-air, her fingers brushing against her wallet. "You…you didn't have to do that," she said.
I shrugged, "Consider it a welcome to Harajuku gift."
"Well, aren't you a gentleman," she said, a teasing lilt to her voice.
We took our drinks and stepped back out into the bustling streets of Harajuku. The heat hit me like a wall, but the cool drink in my hand helped to combat it.
"So, Sumiko," I said, "what brings you to Harajuku?"
Sumiko took a sip of her drink, her eyes scanning the crowd. "I'm here for... an appointment."
"An appointment, huh?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "Sounds mysterious."
"Maybe it is," she said. "Or maybe I just like to keep people guessing."
I chuckled. This girl was something else, that was for sure. "Fair enough," I said. "I guess we all have our secrets."
We fell into a comfortable silence, sipping our drinks and soaking up the wild energy of Harajuku. The tangy sweetness of the hibiscus tea swirled in my mouth, a surprising counterpoint to the usual chaos of the crowds. I found myself stealing glances at Sumiko, trying to piece together the puzzle that she presented.
"Yo, Murakami!"
The shout snapped my attention away, and I turned to see Gojo, Fushiguro, and Itadori weaving towards us through the group of people. Itadori was a sight to behold – a crepe in one hand, a giant tub of popcorn in the other, and perched on his nose were ridiculous sunglasses with the word ROOK emblazoned across them.
A laugh bubbled in my throat. "Looking good, man," I managed, giving him a choked thumbs-up.
Gojo strode forward, "Wow, Murakami, you already found one of your classmates? That's great!" His head turned towards Sumiko. "And is this the lucky lady?"
Before I could reply, Sumiko spoke up. "Izumi Sumiko. And I'm guessing you're the infamous Satoru Gojo?"
"The one and only," he quipped.
My mind raced. An appointment? Infamous? So her 'appointment' was joining us! So that strange thing I sensed from her must have been her cursed energy.
Just then, a loud feminine voice pierced the air. "Hey! You! What about me?"
We turned to see a girl about our age, orange hair blazing and an athletic physique. She wore the same dark blue uniform as us, though hers was customized – cropped jacket, knee length skirt instead of pants. One hand was planted firmly on a nervous-looking older man's shoulder.
"...for that modeling gig. I'm asking what you think about me?" she pressed, oblivious to the scene she was causing.
The man gave a weak laugh. "Sorry, I-I'm in a hurry..." He tried to squirm away, but the girl's grip tightened.
"What the hell? Don't run away, tell me what you think!"
Itadori blinked. "Uh, she's the one we have to talk to? This is real embarrassing..."
Fushiguro shot Itadori a withering look. "Yeah, so are you."
"Pot, meet kettle," I muttered under my breath.
Gojo called out, "Hey! We're over here!"
The girl whipped around, startled. As her eyes landed on our group, a flicker of recognition crossed her face. She released the poor man and stomped towards us, her cropped uniform jacket rippling with barely contained energy.
Well, this day just got ten times more interesting.
"So are you the ones from Jujutsu Tech?" the girl asked, her orange hair ablaze in the afternoon sun.
She definitely wasn't giving off the same quietly mysterious vibe as Sumiko. This one was all fire and fury, and just maybe... a flicker of something I couldn't quite place. I glanced around, taking in Itadori with his ridiculous sunglasses and the ever stoic Fushiguro.
Yeah, "interesting" was definitely the right word for my new group of classmates.
