A white canvas awaited Quinn when he opened his eyes. It was a stark contrast to the otherwise hellish darkness that had been the void. It was with him now; existing both in his memories but also behind his eyelids when he closed his eyes, forever haunting him. The ceiling was a kindness he thought unbecoming of him, though he welcomed it regardless. That pristine purity was a gift.
Naturally, despite his hopes, he awoke in an unfamiliar room. A small part of him expected to open his eyes to his room back home, though that of course wasn't what was happening here. There were forces operating far beyond the confines of what he wanted, and at this point it was easier not to think about it; so he did just that, stretching as he got out of the bed.
He didn't want to get up. He'd have much preferred staying under the warm covers and falling asleep again, but then that wasn't diligent. A month was a long time, but looming death was a fairly effective reminder. It was an absolute fact that, while it could be avoided considering his current circumstances, it wasn't a guarantee. He'd been fortunate enough to avoid death once; he wouldn't be so lucky next time.
"I should stay on top of things," he told himself. Either that or I accept it and rot for a month.
The room wasn't overly decorated, though Quinn didn't mind so much when he got up and stretched. A couple plants were scattered around, lining window sills and a pair of dressers, though that same monotonous feeling the room had gave it a unique charm. It was simple but comfortable.
Having woken up properly after some morning exercises, Quinn got dressed with some clothes that had been delicately left on the dresser and went to look for Yuki. It didn't take him long to find her in the house, though he was less impressed with how large it was and more so in how tidy everything was. Much like his room, the entire building was sprinkled with that tidy, minimalist look. Everything was soft and delicate, straddling the line between imposing and boring.
"You're up," Yuki mumbled to herself, swiping through her phone as she sipped her coffee. "Figured you might wake up soon, so there's coffee on the table." She nodded to the low-hanging table in the centre of the room, and Quinn happily obliged as he sat himself down.
There was nothing special about the room. For someone he may as well have revered up until now for being powerful in a story, she was fairly normal, all things considered. Beyond some of the sarcasm and the crushing atmosphere around her, Tsukumo Yuki really was just a human being.
Would…it be better if I treated everyone here that way?
From his current perspective, these were real people; at least they were as real as he currently was. However, his memories went against that notion, constructing an entirely different view. It wasn't that he didn't want to see these people that way, but his past experiences simply wouldn't allow it. This was a manga character he was talking with, a fictional person created by someone to fit into a fictional story.
There was nothing real about her, and yet here she was, sipping her coffee with a smile on her face. She looked real; the way she moved, sounded, and just existed, it was all authentic. It wasn't as though the spaceman had puppeteered all these people and made them seem real or look real. Somehow, they already were, as though Quinn had simply taken a stroll down the road and happened by one of them back at home.
"Hey," Quinn said, "what do you think makes someone strong?"
Yuki met his gaze with a side glance, still sipping her drink. "Being able to do what has to be done. It sounds simple, but you'd be surprised at how stubborn humans can be."
Doing…what has to be done? Is that what this is, then? Some kind of endurance test?
"What about tricky situations, then?"
"What do you mean?" Yuki spun around on her seat, turning to face him properly. "In a situation where I had to choose between doing what had to be done, even if I didn't want to do that, and doing otherwise…I'm not sure. I don't think anyone would be certain until they were faced by such a mountain; maybe that's why not everyone is strong."
Quinn shook his head. "A tricky situation…say if you were faced with two choices: picking the first option is easy, but it means you're likely going to lose. On the other hand, the second option is the most difficult and might produce favourable results. What then?"
Yuki smiled. "You're overthinking whatever it is you're thinking about, Quinn. They're tricky for a reason; you're not supposed to be able to figure them out until you know what the answer is."
Quinn nodded slowly, sipping his coffee. For the words of a fictional character, they were surprisingly meaningful. It wasn't as though the author had written them himself, but that Yuki had willingly spoken them; with meaning and intent behind each and every word. It was strange, yet somehow comforting.
In essence, Yuki's words meant he wouldn't know how he felt until the month was up. He could construct arguments and try to argue against certain thoughts, but nothing concrete would show itself until Quinn was certain how he felt; which was fine, though a month was a long time and anything could happen.
She's right…overthinking could be dangerous. All I have to do is get stronger, there's nothing more to it than that. Either that or I face death.
Having gathered his thoughts, Quinn focused on himself. Not at the convoluted, storm of thoughts running rampant in his mind, but at the calm, tranquil state of his body. Overnight, his cursed energy had settled down, no longer spiking at random intervals but instead keeping to itself.
In total, there were six locations scattered around his body: his four limbs, his chest, and his head. They were relatively small and situated in specific locations to protect them, but they had formed. Yuki's localization technique, while incredibly tedious to achieve, was efficient. The difference was substantial, and Quinn could now feel…something. Not his cursed energy, not specifically, but something clinging onto it.
"Quinn," Yuki said. Quinn, shaking his head, was surprised to see she'd suddenly appeared in front of him, sitting comfortably on the other side of the table. "Might not be so smart to mess around with that in doors."
He cocked his head. "What…do you mean?"
"Sparks, a little bit of weight, and some retaliation," she muttered. "Your cursed energy is stirring inside of you. It's pretty discomforting, to be honest."
Looking down again, Quinn could almost see his cursed energy jittering, struggling to stay in place. The boundaries around each of the localized deposits were holding, but they were also struggling, barely maintaining. His cursed energy was calm, but then it was also eager; like a dog with a lead wrapped around its neck, all it wanted to do was run.
"It's an eddy," Yuki mumbled to herself, leaning in across the table. She wasn't looking directly at Quinn, but somewhere behind him. "That's unique!"
Quinn shook his head in confusion. "What?"
Yuki pulled back a moment later, a finger raised as if to lecture him. "An eddy is the movement of fluid that deviates from the general flow of fluid. You could think of it as a small ripple in a flowing river. A blotch on an otherwise empty canvas." She leant in a moment later and, before Quinn could do anything, was knocked back suddenly onto the couch behind her. There wasn't much force behind the motion, but it was enough to surprise Quinn. "That really is special!"
Turning around, Quinn came face to face with what he could only describe as a flow in the air. It was thought he was wearing glasses with a smudge in the lens, blurring a part of his vision. The space hadn't changed, per se, but smudged a little in a certain area, spinning around slowly like a whirlpool.
"What is it?"
Yuki chuckled, appearing to his side. "Your technique—I think. Looks to be some kind of sentry, or maybe a marker. I'm not completely certain, but you probably placed it by instinct."
"But…I didn't do anything?"
"Instinct," she repeated, sliding back onto the couch. "This happens from time to time…I knew a boy once whose technique did this—gave me a good scare! Jujutsu is fickle in and of itself, so having your innate technique randomly appear for the first time isn't completely strange." She gave Quinn a look as she spoke, as though she'd been wondering something. "What is strange is that your technique is appearing now, as opposed to when you were a child. You're…not a vessel for a cursed object, are you?"
Quinn shook his head. "Wouldn't you be able to tell if I were?"
"That's why it's so strange," Yuki said, nodding slowly. "Some sort of ominous cursed energy would be leaking off of you, but that isn't the case. Sure, yours is pretty weird, but it's not impossible for someone's cursed energy to have a unique trait."
"Is…this going to be an issue?" he asked, eying the ripple over his shoulder. It was still there, spinning idly as if observing him. He eyed Yuki a moment later, a frown forming. "It's not like you owe this to me or anything, so I do understand…"
Yuki waved her hands in front of her frantically. "No, no! That's not it—I'm just not an expert when it comes to oddities like this. In fact…I think I might know someone who could help. I'd rather not have to deal with the consequences after you accidentally level a building toying around with it."
With a smile Quinn still found both comforting and discomforting, Yuki reached out and offered to help him up.
A fictional character was being kind to him.
Quinn smiled, taking her hand. "Thank you."