Keitaro was your typical high school student,atleast it looks like that as Keitaro had a secret, he could see supernatural things that other couldnt,those creatures made of negative curse energy, he wonders what they might be until one day fate came...
Keitaro swung the katana with practiced ease, each slash leaving a clean, shimmering air-trace against the practice dummy. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool morning air. He repeated the sequence five times, his movements precise and controlled. Finally, with a final flourish, he sheathed the blade with a satisfying snap.
Silence reigned for a beat. Then, with a soft thud, the dummy split cleanly in two, then four, then eight, collapsing in a heap of perfectly severed sections. Keitaro sighed, a hint of frustration flickering across his features. It wasn't enough. He needed to anticipate the delayed effect, to truly master the timing of his strikes.
A vibration in his pocket pulled him from his thoughts. He retrieved his phone, a faint smile playing on his lips as he saw the notification: Jujutsu High Group Chat. He didn't even need to open it to know who the first message was from.
"Yo, Minato, gracing us with your presence or chickening out again?" the message read, punctuated with a single, infuriating eye emoji. Gojo Satoru, never one to miss an opportunity for a playful jab.
Keitaro chuckled softly. "This idiot," he muttered, his voice laced with a fondness that belied the playful insult. He typed a reply with practiced ease.
Keitaro sighed, the sound echoing in the empty training room. Glancing at the clock, he saw he only had a few hours until the pre-graduation gathering. "Time to get ready," he muttered to himself.
With a practiced flick of his wrist, Keitaro vanished in a burst of teleportation, reappearing in his apartment. The convenience of his technique never ceased to amaze him. He took a long, luxurious bath, letting the hot water soothe his muscles and ease the tension that had built up during his intense training session.
Emerging from the steam, Keitaro meticulously dried himself before turning to his wardrobe. He scanned the clothes, a faint smile playing on his lips. No need to overdo it tonight. This was a casual get-together, a chance to catch up with old friends, not a runway show.
Ups! Gambar ini tidak mengikuti Pedoman Konten kami. Untuk melanjutkan publikasi, hapuslah gambar ini atau unggah gambar lain.
A thoughtful frown creased Keitaro's brow. This pre-graduation gathering required some forethought. Nanami would likely be there, stoic and ever-practical. Utahime might attend, drawn by Shoko's presence. The solution? Beverages. Gojo was the sole sweets enthusiast; everyone else likely preferred a stronger drink.
With a plan in mind, Keitaro materialized outside a liquor store in a flurry of teleportation. He efficiently selected a variety of liquors, catering to different palates. Next, a quick stop at a renowned sweets shop secured a box of exquisite delicacies – a peace offering for those with a sweet tooth (besides Gojo, of course).
Lugging everything around was a hassle. Keitaro unfurled a scroll, a practiced movement etched from years of Jujutsu training. He carefully placed the drinks and sweets atop the scroll. With a single, swift ram hand sign, a puff of smoke materialized and then dissipated, taking the refreshments with it. A satisfied grin spread across Keitaro's face. He was now well-equipped for the "snack department" of the party.
