Why did he go out on an investigation alone? It was because of compatibility with his target. For targeting a cursed speech user, another cursed speech user like Inumaki would have the most suitable knowledge. Alone, he would have been able to handle this easily, because the enemy was hardly formidable. But Tsurube and Koizumi had gotten the best of her twice, thereby exposing Inumaki to danger when he came to rescue her.
She was filled with a single emotion, which cleared away all extraneous thought and distraction. That emotion was anger. Pure anger. Not at her opponents, but at herself.
The sunset stained the room blood red. As the desk, walls, and floor turned crimson, what seemed most vivid to Kugisaki was the target she needed to hit. Her agitation hadn’t disrupted her reason; instead, sheer fury had sharpened her resolve.
“Careful now,” Tsurube warned. “You shouldn’t raise your hand to me, Kugisaki. I already got you to tell me your cursed technique. Straw Doll, right? I have your hammer, so you can’t use it. So just stop, yeah? You shouldn’t even consider trying to harm—”
“Shut up,” Kugisaki said.
“Huh?” Tsurube looked astonished at having been interrupted.
His cursed speech should have been binding her spirit. She shouldn’t have been able to find the will to interrupt his words. He didn’t think she had the mental fortitude to resist his amplified cursed speech, especially since she was weak, an inexperienced brat, and a grade 3 sorcerer.
But he didn’t know. He didn’t know that the girl before his eyes wasn’t weak. More than an inexperienced brat or a grade 3 sorcerer, she was Nobara Kugisaki.
“I’d rather listen to someone vomiting,” Kugisaki said. She took Tsurube’s business card from her pocket.
She had just seen the effects of cursed speech firsthand, so now she realized the danger of this power that could cause harm with a mere word. Inumaki’s sacrifice—abandoning using normal speech so that he could seal away this danger—was immense.
Why had he risked himself to protect Kugisaki from Tsurube’s knock-out drug? Because he wasn’t able to warn her. His mouth formed words that became reality, so he couldn’t say “danger.” And because of that, he hadn’t hesitated to be her shield.
Inumaki spoke words and abandoned words for the benefit of others. Tsurube’s glib jabbering was worthless compared to Inumaki’s sparse utterances.
Kugisaki tossed Tsurube’s card to the floor and raised one leg.
“Um, I wouldn’t bother,” Tsurube scoffed.
Then he remembered her cursed technique: Straw Doll involves remotely infusing a doll with cursed energy. But he had taken away her hammer and doll, so there should be no way for her to use this technique, should there? She was acting out of mere desperation. She had to be.
A small form dropped from Kugisaki’s hand onto the business card. It was a doll made of the rope they had used to bind Kugisaki’s hands. She had fashioned a rudimentary doll from the rope’s frayed ends.
Any sorcerer whose cursed technique required a medium would understand the great danger of losing that medium. It would only make sense that such a sorcerer would acquire the skill of creating a medium from whatever was close at hand. Kugisaki had her doll, and as for a nail to charge with cursed energy …
Tsurube’s eyes then focused on the pin heels of the boots she was wearing.
“H-hey … No, don’t—” he said. He was unable to think of anything to say that would be an effective counter before she brought down her boot. Don’t or stop alone wouldn’t carry sufficient meaning. Tsurube’s cursed speech couldn’t force behavior; it could only instill belief. It wouldn’t work if the words weren’t substantial enough.
Even now, however, he wasn’t worried. Kugisaki only intended to use Straw Doll for an attack via the business card, which was made from the same tree as the cursed seals around the room, and that was too broad a target. The damage from a cursed energy blast coming from a mere grade 3 sorcerer would be diffused to almost nothing among the countless seals.
There’s no problem, Tsurube assured himself.
However, the only thing he’d gotten out of Kugisaki while she was brainwashed was the nature of her cursed technique. He had no reason to suspect she was anything but some grade 3 sorcerer, a loser newb. Kugisaki wasn’t someone who could be so easily reduced to simple categories.
“It’s useless, you damn brat!” he shouted. “Struggle all you want, but—”
“I told you to shut up.” she interrupted him.
With one stomp of her boot, she pierced the doll and the business card. Her honed cursed energy rushed out, and all the seals went up in flames. So did Tsurube’s tongue, which was linked to the seals.
“Agh! Uaaaaaagh! Ngah! Hungh! Uwaaaaaah!” Tsurube writhed in excruciating pain as his tongue split like a blooming flower.
Kugisaki looked down at him, then opened the desk drawer in a leisurely way and removed her hammer, nails and straw doll.
“Aaaaaugh!” Tsurube screamed again. He was staggering toward the door, looking as if he might collapse at any moment. As intense as the pain assailing him was, he could still sense the danger to his life and knew he had to escape.
He seemed a sorry sight, but Kugisaki couldn’t allow him to leave. She didn’t know how much information she had revealed while under the influence of his cursed speech, and thought it was probably best to put an end to him right now.
She tossed a nail into the air and swung her hammer, but a split second before she struck it, she heard a hoarse command.
“Don’t … kill … him,” Inumaki stammered.
“Yaaiieeeeee!” Tsurube screamed.
The distraction had caused Kugisaki to divert the nail to Tsurube’s ankle, which prevented him from moving. If he couldn’t flee, that was enough. Kugisaki checked to make sure he was immobile, then dropped her gaze to Inumaki, who was still on the floor, clutching his throat.
“… fish flakes …” he said.
“Aw, come on,” she replied.
Inumaki was back to only naming rice-ball ingredients, but Kugisaki understood what had transpired. He hadn’t forced those words of normal speech through his damaged throat out of concern for Tsurube; he had done it so she wouldn’t have to bear the weight of having taken a life, even though their job as sorcerers entailed a lot of death.
“You guys are too nice for sorcerers.”
She thought of her comrade’s considerate words immediately after a fight.
Kugisaki understood how extraordinarily kind Inumaki’s words were, because she had previously experienced such kindness.
Kugisaki and Inumaki didn’t get a much-needed rest until the next day. First, they had to transfer Tsurube and Koizumi to Jujutsu High and report on the incident.
“You two sure had a disastrous day off,” Panda said.
“Salmon, salmon,” Inumaki said.
“That’s for sure,” Kugisaki agreed, her tired shoulders slumping. “Hmph! I didn’t get a new bag and my boot heel came off!”
They were in the break area at Jujutsu High, surrounded by second-years. Kugisaki was drinking tea. Panda and Maki had caught her between them when they came to say hi to Inumaki after he finished his report. Kugisaki thought this group seemed tighter compared to the first-years.
“Come to think of it, it’s been a while since we spent time together, probably because of my schedule,” Maki said. Her chin was resting on her hands, and she was staring at Kugisaki.
Kugisaki nodded back. “Yeah. It’s been about a week or two?”
“Yes, something like that,” Maki replied. Looking at Kugisaki’s face, she realized something. As did Panda. And Inumaki, of course. There could be no doubt about it.
Kugisaki blinked at their staring faces and said, “Is there something in my teeth?”
“You look better since we last met,” Maki said.
“Oh, you can tell? I bought a good foundation,” Kugisaki responded.
“What I meant is you look more like a sorcerer,” Maki explained. “If we were to spar now, the results might be different than last time.”
Before summer, everyone had thought of Kugisaki as a mere sprout, but a series of challenges—sudden realizations, some under duress, and relationships with others—can cause a flower to bloom. Kugisaki might’ve still been green, but she was rapidly maturing. Even now, the flower that was Nobara Kugisaki was continuing to bloom. The second-years could clearly sense the change because they had trained with her.
Kugisaki looked uncomfortable with the compliment. She glanced at Inumaki, who was beside Panda, and dropped her eyes. “No, you shouldn’t compliment me.”
“Why not? You’re not usually so humble,” Maki said.
Kugisaki looked at Inumaki and said, “That whole incident was—”
“Fish flakes,” Inumaki said, cutting her off. He had witnessed her growth with his own eyes. More than anyone here, he wanted her to be proud of herself.
“Inumaki Senpai,” Kugisaki said.
“Kelp,” he said.
“Okay … I won’t be so humble.”
“Salted fish roe,” he replied.
“Yeah, it’s creepy to me too,” Kugisaki retorted, “But do you have to harp on it?”
“Spicy cod roe.”
“Hey, you don’t have to go that far!” Kugisaki snapped. Inumaki’s high spirits were causing him to get a bit carried away, and the break area resounded with their chatter.
“Nobara, maybe you understand Toge a little too well now?” Panda asked, tilting his head. He supposed that was another sign of growth.
The older students looked warmly on their charming but sharp-tongued young apprentice.