9 The Roppongi Test {2}

A feral grin stretched across my face. The stale air thrummed with cursed energy, a beacon guiding my bloodlust. My fingers twitched, Phantom Threads eager to sing their deadly song. The first curse materialized in a flash of claws and teeth, but my reflexes were faster. With a flick of my wrist, the threads lashed out, a blur of black energy. The creature twitched once, then dissolved into nothingness.

+30 XP

The notification flickered in the corner of my vision, a welcomed reward for such an effortless kill. These third-floor curses were child's play. I weaved through the decaying labyrinth, each encounter leaving another dissolving husk in my wake. My movements had become a practiced dance – sense, flick, dissolve. The initial thrill of the kill had faded, replaced by a cold efficiency.

Another group of ragged growls echoed down the hall. This time, I didn't even bother searching. The threads shot out on their own, a blur coiling around unseen foes in the distance. A muffled shriek, the telltale sign of disintegration, confirmed the kill.

A surge of satisfaction coursed through me as the Level Up notification flashed across my vision. It was becoming almost too easy. I smirked to myself – another ten attribute points in the bag, another boost to my power that only I knew about.

"This is getting boring," I mumbled. The thrill of the unexpected had worn off. Now, it felt like a grind.

But something kept me going. A morbid curiosity, maybe, or a strange hunger to level up even more. With each slain curse, the power flowed a bit more freely, the Phantom Threads responding with increasing speed and precision. I almost felt them becoming an extension of myself, instead of just a tool I wielded.

A low, rhythmic thrumming emanated from the stairwell, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. I paused, listening intently. It wasn't the harsh screech of a curse, but something far more melodic. Was that singing I was hearing?

"Maybe the lower levels will be more interesting," I mused aloud. I rushed down the stairs, curiosity overpowering the unease.

The scene that unfolded before me made me freeze in my tracks. Eerie light bathed the room, and Sumiko stood at the center, a radiant figure in the gloom. Her voice, a mournful melody, hung in the stagnant air. It seeped into me, raising goosebumps on my skin.

A dagger gleamed in her hand, and around her lay a circle of frozen curses, their eyes hollow and wide. As her song continued, they collapsed one by one, the dagger plunging into their monstrous forms. But it was no battle cry she sang... just a beautiful, haunting lament.

"Sumiko?" My voice was a choked whisper.

She turned, and my breath hitched. Her eyes, usually that vibrant green, blazed with an inhuman, crimson light. Was this a trick? A hidden power? My stomach twisted – excitement, yes, but something colder, too. Fear.

The red faded as quickly as it came, leaving her expression as serene as before. "Oh, hey Murakami. Are you done on the third floor?" Her tone was light, cheerful... and chillingly unaware.

The questions clawed in my throat, but I swallowed them down. "Yeah, it was a breeze," I managed. "Need a hand down here?"

Her chuckle echoed in the unnerving silence. "Mr. I-Just-Got-Powers wants to help?" In her eyes, there was a flicker of something like amusement... or was it assessment?

"You might be surprised," I shot back. "Slicing weaklings is getting dull." My unspoken question hung heavy between us: Just what the hell did you do down here, Sumiko? But the thought of the answer… it sent a delicious shiver down my spine.

I knew, without a doubt, that this was the moment to choose my next move. I could play it safe, shrug off the fear, pretend I saw nothing. Or I could embrace the uncertainty, lean into the danger… and maybe learn something extraordinary.

Taking a subtle breath, I let a genuine smile – with a hint of a challenge– play across my face. "Come on, Sumiko. We both know I'm not just some newbie anymore," I said, casually flexing my hands. The Phantom Threads shimmered, a subtle power move of my own. "But hey, if you think you've got this floor handled…"

I trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid. The ball was in her court now. Sumiko tilted her head, studying me with a curious light in her now-green eyes. Was it suspicion I saw there, or a hint of… recognition? A beat of silence stretched between us. Then, to my surprise, a wide grin spread across her face.

"Alright, Mr. Not-a-Newbie," she said, her voice playful with a teasing edge, "let's finish this. But you better not slow me down!"

With a whirl, she pivoted back to the remaining curses. Her song resumed, but this time, there was a new energy in it – a sharper edge, an undercurrent of intensity that hadn't been there before. She graciously moved between stunned targets, plunging her dagger into the curses skulls.

Deciding not to be outdone, my black threads lashed out, seeking the remaining stationary targets. Each curse dissolved with satisfying finality.

"Hey now," I called out, my voice tinged with mock-offense, "You weren't planning on clearing this whole floor by yourself, were you?"

Sumiko laughed, the sound surprisingly normal considering the morbid spectacle we'd just put on. Her eyes sparkled with a fierce determination, the carefree girl replaced by something… wilder. "Don't get cocky!" she shot back. Another curse fell beneath the onslaught of her song. With a defiant smirk, she met my gaze and raised her chin.

My threads lashed out with renewed hunger, slicing through the shadows as I matched her pace. The air between us crackled with a strange sort of camaraderie. For a moment, it wasn't about curses or powers or the bizarre secrets we might be hiding. We were just students testing their limits… and liking the feeling a little too much.

The final curse disintegrated, leaving us in a silence broken only by our ragged breathing. A laugh bubbled up in my throat. It was exhilarating.

"Guess you're not half-bad… for a newbie" Sumiko conceded.

The playful jab brought a smile to my face. Maybe I'd been letting my imagination run a little wild. "So," I started cautiously, "about that song…"

Sumiko's expression flickered for a brief moment, a shadow crossing her features before it was replaced by a nonchalant shrug. "Oh, that? Just my cursed technique."

Relief washed over me. A cursed technique explained the strange light and the way the curses seemed to react to it. It wasn't some hidden darkness within her. Just another weird power in this crazy world. It's actually funny that I came to such a conclusion like that in the first place.

"So, what about that freaky thread power of yours?"

I held up my right hand, the black lines of the Phantom Threads twisting and coiling across my palm. "First time trying it in a real fight," I confessed, a mix of pride and surprise in my voice. "Don't know how it works, exactly, but I know it's got… potential."

A deafening boom echoed from above, making the floor tremble. We exchanged a startled glance. Whatever was going on upstairs, it wasn't gonna be good.

"Let's go!" I yelled, already sprinting towards the last flight of stairs. Sumiko was right on my heels.

We burst onto the top floor. My heart hammered against my ribs. A severed curse hand lay in a pool of black sludge right outside a shattered doorway. Itadori stood inside, clutching a terrified child, while a curse was poised to leap out an open window.

"What the fu—" My words died as another figure emerged from the shadows behind Itadori – Kugisaki.

With a ferocious cry, she tore open her jacket, revealing a straw doll. "Like hell I'd allow you to escape!"

My mind raced. Had she… cut off the curse's hand to track it? Was that even possible?

"Toss me that hand!" Kugisaki shouted.

Without a second thought, I kicked the severed appendage toward her. She snatched it up, slamming the straw doll on top. "Straw Doll Technique!" Her hammer slammed down, driving a nail through the doll and hand alike.

"Resonance," Kugisaki whispered. The curse outside screeched, a scream that echoed inside my skull, and then… it combusted. Black flames devoured it in seconds, leaving only ash in its wake.

Kugisaki heaved a sigh of relief as the curse vanished. I clapped my hands. "Good stuff, Kugisaki! And you too, Itadori!"

"See, that's why I told you it's dangerous to go it alone," Itadori said, a smug grin on his face. "You gotta take this seriously."

Kugisaki scoffed. "You never said 'on your own'. Anyways, what kind of food did you eat growing up that made it possible for you to punch through walls bare-handed?"

Itadori flushed, protesting, "It wasn't steel-reinforced concrete!"

"Even so, that should still not be possible that easily!" Kugisaki countered.

Sumiko interrupted their banter, tilting her head toward Nobara. "Kugisaki, why did you want to become a sorcerer anyway?"

Kugisaki shifted uncomfortably, suddenly far less bold. "It's simple," she mumbled, twiddling her thumbs. "I hated the countryside and wanted to live in Tokyo."

Our stares were heavy with disbelief. Finally, she sighed and added, "Living in Tokyo is expensive, and this was the only way for me to come here without having to worry about money."

Itadori asked, "You would risk your life for that reason?"

"Easily," Kugisaki replied, her chin lifted defiantly. "That's what makes me, me." Her expression softened as she ruffled the child's hair. "Anyways, I'm thankful to you," she said, meeting Itadori's gaze. "Whether I lived alone or died, my future wouldn't have been bright. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you!"

Itadori blushed, sputtering under the unexpected praise.

But the tender moment was short-lived. A cough broke the silence, and I awkwardly cleared my throat. "Well, I think it's time we got this little guy to his mother, right?"

Itadori and Kugisaki nodded in agreement, and the tense energy of the fight finally began to dissipate.

Twenty minutes later, we stood outside the child's apartment building. Gojo announced, "Good work, guys! Just finished escorting the kid home, and it's time to eat."

"Meat!" Itadori bellowed, a grin plastered on his face.

"Sushi!" Kugisaki countered.

Gojo flashed a thumbs-up. "Leave it to me!"

We headed towards a restaurant, the exhaustion of the fight replaced by bickering about food and a growing sense of… was that friendship? Then, Sumiko nudged me with her elbow before asking out loud.

"What's with all the doom and gloom, Fushiguro?"

"Nothing," he grumbled.

"Aw, is it because you didn't get to fight?" I teased, unable to resist.

A low growl escaped Fushiguro, but even he couldn't help it – we all burst into laughter. As the sound filled the quiet street, I knew something had shifted. It wasn't just about curses anymore. This first mission, in all its weirdness and danger, had forged a bond between us. Even the ever-serious Fushiguro couldn't escape it.

Maybe being a sorcerer wasn't going to be so bad after all.