Isamu didn't talk a lot. Obviously. But that was only talking audibly. If you counted sign language, Isamu talked a decent amount. If you counted both sign language and body language, Isamu never shut up.
Few people could properly read body language, especially Isamu's dialect, but those who could were the only ones that stood a chance of getting to know the true Isamu. So far, only Maki and, as irritating as it was to admit, Kenji Inumaki had figured it out.
Body language, in Isamu's opinion, was the most effective way of communication. A picture contains a thousand words and a single look at a person contained more information about their mood and feelings than a thousand spoken words could ever convey. Most importantly, at least in Isamu's current situation, body language also conveyed intent.
It was a slow process for sure, a process only viable due to Isamu's own experience with conveying his intent to Maki with his body language. But eventually, Isamu began to understand the man's silent words, his will, his intent.
For the first time in a while, Isamu did more than be hit and heal the damage using reverse cursed technique. He swayed out of the way just in time before leaning his head back just enough to avoid a follow up, so close he could feel the displaced wind.
Isamu threw his left hand out to block a kick before grabbing onto the leg. He tried to take advantage only to be met with a punch square to the face before the man spun and kicked him in the side of the head in the next moment, forcing his grip on his leg to release.
Isamu beat himself up mentally for that mistake, he'd been too cocky. He should only attack when he sees an opening the man unintentionally created, not one Isamu opened himself. That just led to Isamu being too preoccupied with planing his own attack to properly read the man's body. With that in mind, he relaxed some of his muscles to make dodging a bit easier.
Isamu's concentration was so deep drool began to creep from his mouth, any thought not dedicated to reading the man's body and countering being shoved to the corner of his mind.
Isamu swayed to the side as the man swung before ducking and back stepping to avoid two more blows. The man swung again but Isamu side stepped before going past him, using both arms to gently guide the man onwards. The man was misplaced, having gone slightly past where he'd planned to end his attack. That tiny miss positioning was enough for Isamu to land a solid left straight to the man's right cheek.
Isamu backed away to dodge a sweeping leg kick which led into a backflip. Isamu swaying back to dodge an upwards kick the man threw out mid flip. Isamu threw a right jab to the back of the man's leg, sending him a little off track once more.
The man got back to his feat and Isamu considered attacking in the brief time between landing and getting an understanding of their new position but he decided against it. Was it likely he'd be able to land something? Yes. Was it guaranteed?
No.
Isamu would only attack when he was 100% sure he would land a hit with no penalty. If there was even a slight chance he wouldn't succeed, it was better to wait for the next possible opening. But that thought led to another problem, his lack of damage.
If things continue as it was, Isamu would probably win. But things wouldn't continue as such for one simple reason, his flow state was starting to fade. After landing a black flash, your physical capabilities are raised to 120%. In that amplified state, Isamu was only going even with the man. Which means the man's 100% had to be at least 20% faster and stronger than Isamu's 100%.
So once the flow state ended and Isamu lost that 20% buff, the man would be faster, stronger, and more skilled. Which, more likely than not, would result in Isamu's death. So he would need to end this fight quickly, before the benefits following a black flash fled.
Of course Isamu could pick up his sword again and finish it with that. Would he? No. Isamu's pride and ego, as new as they were, would not let him go back on his "word" and break their unspoken "hands only" rule.
So he needed to output more damage but he was unwilling to attack more frequently. If he punched him and got punched in return, he would have to use rct to heal. Which meant burning more cursed energy, which meant less cursed energy could go into making his punches more powerful.
So he would need to increase the amount of damage each punch did. Normally, this would only be possible because putting more cursed energy behind the punch or getting better at infusing your fist, basically giving you the ability to stretch the cursed energy in your fists for more and making each point of cursed energy more potent.
Neither of these things Isamu could do at the moment. He was already putting as much cursed energy into his fists as he could afford and there were no curses around to give him more cursed energy so that route was out of the question.
He couldn't become more effective with his cursed energy at the moment either. Sure, his flow state and the weird sensation he felt after landing a black flash and awakening to rct let him grow at a crazy fast speed but as mentioned, those states were fading so naturally the pace at which he improved took a nose dive.
So if he couldn't improve the jujutsu side of the coin, he'd have to improve the martial side. Sure, muscles would make him punch harder but he couldn't grow muscles that fast, that wasn't what he was talking about either. What he really needed to improve on was how he punched and where he hit.
Until now, Isamu had just been slamming his fist into the opponent without much thought on where he was hitting. Sure, he knew the basics of how to form a proper fist and the basic forms a punch took but his teachers had mostly focused on how to properly enhance your fist over any further martial technique.
In other words, he'd maxed out his strength stat but his technique stat was shit, making his overall build suboptimal. It was while he brainstormed a way to up his punching power when a memory dug itself up from the corner of his mind.
——
Isamu and Maki, shortly after the goodwill event, lay on the couch of Isamu's dorm room, cuddling. Isamu laid on his stomach, his arms wrapped around Maki's waist, his head resting on her stomach and lap as she sat with her legs on the couch under him. Her hands resting on his head, her fingers drawing soothing circles in his hair as they both watched the TV.
It was a boxing match, a rather one sided one so far. Maki liked watching combat sports, to Isamu's mild surprise. Boxing, MMA, wrestling, whatever really. So when it was her turn to pick what they did that night and a fight happened to fall on that same night, Isamu didn't even need to ask what they would be doing.
Isamu didn't bother to remember the names of the fighters and honestly he didn't have much of an interest in the sport. He spent all day fighting, he didn't need to come home and watch more of it. This fight had an obvious winner.
The bigger guy was really giving the other one the business. Isamu was surprised they were even in the same weight class. Haymaker after haymaker, right hook after right hook, they all slammed into his guy with devastating force. It was just a matter of time before he took one he couldn't stand back up from.
But right when Isamu was about to ask Maki to switch channels, writing off the fight as a forgone conclusion, the underdog landed a punch, stopping Isamu in his attempt. The man was thrown for a loop after taking what seemed like a decent punch that did no serious damage.
The bigger man tried to swing again but he was slower and less accurate, leading to the other boxer landing another one right in the chin. They went on for a while, the smaller man dodging every hit while landing his own while the bigger man got less and less accurate as the fight went on, making it easier for his opponent to land more hits.
After the fight was over and the smaller man stood victorious with his glove raised, Isamu poked Maki on the chin from below and asked her what that was about.
"Mmmhh? Oh, it's rare but not unheard of. If you hit someone just right on the tip of their chin, tremors will travel through their skull and vibrate their brain. It disorients them and after a while they collapse, their brain becoming jelly, just smacking into the inside of their skull." Maki said as if it was the most mundane thing in the world.
——
The man, Toji Zenin, was having the best night of his 2nd life. After being resurrected by that old woman's cursed technique, he'd lost some of his wits, forcing him to battle the strongest around. And boy were they strong. Especially the kid.
The cursed spirit was powerful, yes, but not strong. If that made sense. It was born powerful but when that innate strength wasn't enough, it failed to adapt or grow any stronger. The same was not true for the boy. At first, Toji was holding back, wanting to keep fighting for a while.
But every time he met the boy, he got stronger and faster, forcing Toji to hold back less and less until he was finally at his full might about the time the curse was exorcised. But it seemed the boy was about done. He'd started slowing down, his punches getting weaker and weaker. His evasive ability had gotten a lot better though. It was just delaying the inevitable in Toji's eyes.
Sure, Toji was having a hard time landing anything but the punches he received in return weren't anything to worry about. He would just outlast the boy and once he was slow enough he'd land a decisive blow and find the next opponent. That was, until he was hit again.
Toji had rushed in and was a bit curious but not concerned. The boy seemed to be lost in thought for an instant before he started to sway from side to side lightly, he hands by his sides. Toji threw a meaty punch followed by a knee, sweeping kick, upper cut, and a quick 5 piece combination of jabs and straights.
But nothing landed. Everything was dodged and ducked like the boy had all the time in the world to react and act. At the very end of the long combo, when Toji's confusion was at its peak, he was struck on the tip of his chin.
It didn't feel more powerful than any punch that came before it, leading Toji to continue his attack but right when he began to move, only a second after being hit, his world began to swirl. His head erupted into an intense migraine as his vision faded in and out making it difficult to distinguish shapes.
Eventually he found an outline vaguely resembling a person and struck out at it, only to meet air and take another stinging blow to the chin. His world was tossed around again as colors mixed and matched, shapes lost their edge as they were all jumbled up with each other.
Toji tried to use his spacial awareness, honed over years of slaying sorcerer, to attack but for the third time in as many seconds, he found no purchase and was hit again.
With each blow it became harder and harder to make sense of his environment, leading to more and more punches to make contact and thus make it harder to dodge future attacks. Toji was caught in a loop he knew would lead to his death and that he knew he couldn't break out of.
If he had to compare the experience to something, Toji would describe it like fighting smoke. Unable to see anything. Unable to hit anything. Unable to do anything. Until eventually you dropped.