It was a quiet afternoon when Makima headed toward the entrance of the Jujutsu High. She had been informed that she would be accompanying two first-year students on a mission. Although she didn't show it, she honestly didn't want to go. The mission with Hakari and Kirara, both second-years, had already seemed simple and boring to her, so she couldn't imagine how much worse it would be with first-years.
When she arrived at her destination, she noticed two boys waiting for her. One had gray hair and wore a cloth wrapped around his face, covering his mouth. She vaguely recognized him; she had seen him a few times. The other, however, was a familiar face: Yuta Okkotsu.
Makima frowned as she noticed his presence. It seemed he was under Gojo's care, which immediately ruled out anything she had planned to do with him. As she approached, the two boys turned toward her. The gray-haired boy simply nodded and said, "Salmon," while Yuta muttered a timid "Hello." He recalled Gojo's words before the mission: "You'll be going with Makima. I haven't had time to talk to her about what happened, but she won't do anything to you. Just don't draw her attention or contradict her. Even though she doesn't seem like it, she hates being opposed."
Makima stopped in front of the students, her gaze fixed on the gray-haired boy. "You're Inumaki Toge, right?" she asked in a neutral tone. The boy gave a thumbs-up in affirmation and repeated his usual "Salmon."
"So, Cursed Speech, huh…" Makima murmured, leaning slightly toward him. This movement visibly unsettled Inumaki. "I'd say it's a very... nerfed version of my technique," she added with a barely perceptible smile before turning her attention to Yuta, who was still staring at the ground.
"I suppose we'll be a team. Let's get along," Makima said with a fake smile. Yuta barely nodded, unable to make eye contact with her. "Look at me when I'm talking to you," she demanded in a sharp tone, making Yuta lift his gaze, though he ended up focusing on her mouth, too nervous to meet her eyes directly.
Makima stood at the center and spoke again. "From the report we received, we're to patrol a shopping district in Tokyo where rituals were performed. Apparently, there have been sightings of high-grade curses," she explained professionally. Inumaki nodded once more.
"In summary, I control curses and have chains that function as weapons. That's all you need to know about me to be prepared if things get out of control," Makima added before gesturing for them to get into the car waiting for them.
From a nearby hill, Gojo watched the scene as the car drove off. "Well, that went much better than I expected," he thought, pulling out his phone to call Yuki. "Should I continue with the plan? Nah, nothing can go wrong. After all, I planned it." He convinced himself, though a slight sense of unease lingered at the back of his mind.
In the city, the car dropped them off near an empty shopping street. The sky began to turn orange as Makima raised a curtain with a simple hand gesture, darkening the area around them.
"You know what to do. Keep your eyes open for any anomalies. The core is at the back, but curses will likely attack us before we get there," Makima ordered in a cold, authoritative tone. Inumaki responded with another "Salmon," while Yuta drew a katana.
Makima raised an eyebrow as she saw it. "Do you know how to imbue an object with cursed energy?" she asked disdainfully. Yuta, surprised by the question, quickly shook his head.
"It's a cursed tool. Gojo-sensei lent it to me until I solve my problem," he explained, his voice trembling. Makima glanced at him sideways before continuing forward.
After a short walk, a curse appeared before them. It was grotesque, its body formed by a mass of interlocking hands. Makima examined it calmly before speaking. "It's grade four."
Inumaki prepared to act, but Makima raised a hand, stopping him. "Let Okkotsu handle it," she said without hesitation.
"B-but I...?" Yuta stammered, visibly frightened.
"Come on, you're new. There's nothing easier than this. It's like killing a baby; the only thing it can do is cry," Makima replied coldly, to Yuta's dismay.
Holding the katana with both hands, he visibly trembled. The curse, a grotesque mass of hands and deformed limbs moving unnaturally, crawled toward him with a hiss that seemed to echo multiple voices. Each step it took sounded like walking over a pile of dry bones.
"Here's your change," murmured the creature in a voice that seemed to bubble from deep within its distorted body. Yuta, swallowing hard, ran toward it with clumsy steps, raising the katana for a vertical slash.
The weapon cut through the air, but one of the curse's hands reacted quickly, grabbing his arm with a force that made him scream in pain. Before he could attempt to break free, the creature lifted him off the ground as if he weighed nothing and threw him onto the pavement, where he landed with a dull thud, leaving him gasping.
"H-help!" he cried, his voice filled with panic and desperation as he tried to get up. The curse lunged at him, extending several hands toward his neck and torso.
Makima, standing a few meters away, watched the scene without moving a finger, her arms behind her back and a barely perceptible smile on her face. She seemed to enjoy the spectacle, as if Yuta's suffering was a lesson he needed to learn.
Inumaki didn't know what to do. He looked at Makima, hoping for a signal, but she remained motionless, calmly observing the scene. Makima, without looking away, murmured, "How useless can he be?" She didn't seem inclined to intervene.
The desperation in Inumaki grew as he saw the curse still holding Yuta, who struggled in vain. Finally, Inumaki made a decision. Removing the cloth covering his mouth to reveal the cursed markings on his skin, he shouted firmly, "Explode!"
His voice resonated with a supernatural echo, charged with cursed energy that traveled directly to the creature. Instantly, the curse froze. Its grotesque body began to tremble, swelling unnaturally until it exploded in a rain of viscera and fragments. A nauseating stench filled the air as the remains scattered on the ground and slowly vanished.
Yuta was freed, panting as he leaned on his katana to stand. He looked at Inumaki with relief, but before he could thank him, Makima's cutting voice interrupted the moment.
"Why did you help him?" she asked, her sharp eyes fixed on Inumaki. "He wasn't in mortal danger. He had to find a way out on his own."
Inumaki, with a contained expression of anger, returned her gaze. But Makima, sensing the challenge, smiled more widely, leaning slightly toward him. "Are you defying me?"
Inumaki's eyes trembled, and he finally lowered his head, unable to hold her gaze. "That's what I thought," Makima said coldly before turning to Yuta.
"Congratulations," she said, walking slowly toward him, her steps echoing in the silence. "You're weaker than a baby."
Yuta gritted his teeth, his body still trembling, but he was forced to look up. That's when he noticed something behind Makima: a new curse, larger and much faster than the previous one, charging at her with overwhelming force, its elongated arms like spears aimed directly at her back.
"W-watch out!" Yuta tried to shout, but before he could finish, Makima raised her hand with a precise, almost indifferent motion. In an instant, a sharp sound filled the air. The curse stopped dead, split into two perfect halves that fell heavily to the ground, bleeding out slowly as the cursed energy keeping it alive faded away.
Makima barely turned her head to observe the remains with narrowed eyes. "How strange," she murmured, her tone neutral but laden with suspicion. "It appeared out of nowhere."
However, she didn't stop to investigate. She looked at the two students with unshakable calm. "Let's go. We still have a long way to go," she ordered, resuming her stride as if nothing had happened.
Yuta and Inumaki exchanged glances. The tension in the air was palpable. One was exhausted, the other clearly disturbed by Makima's attitude. However, both knew they couldn't back out now. Keeping a few steps behind her, they continued down the dark alley, preparing for whatever lay ahead.