Chapter Text
For as much as Fushiguro worried, life didn’t change much in the following days. His schedule remained basically unchanged - except that every night he would be transported to an open field for a couple of hours. Which was strange, and hard to get used to, but Sukuna kept his word. He never hurt Fushiguro. Their time was spent with Sukuna teaching Fushiguro movements and attacks to incorporate into his fighting style, which were consistently effective. And although Fushiguro wouldn’t say that he completely got along with Sukuna, he was unexpectedly easy to tolerate.
The most important thing out of all of that, though, was that Fushiguro could actually feel himself getting better. It had only been about a week, but the improvement was noticeable, if only from the different strategies he used - although he could feel that they were still clumsily executed - but it was intriguing to think about how he would perform when he was completely comfortable with the new techniques. It excited him.
That excitement was how Fushiguro justified the fact that, as strange as it was, he was beginning to actually look forward to the training. It was only logical, he reasoned; he wanted to get stronger, and that’s how it happened. Sukuna would smirk far too widely if Fushiguro ever admitted it, so he never would, but the training was useful.
Of course, he was still suspicious of Sukuna, anyone who wasn’t would be dangerously optimistic. But the more nights that passed where he wasn’t murdered, the smaller his reservations shrank. And honestly, sometimes during the training he would forget about them altogether.
“Again!” Sukuna commanded, straightening up from where he had dodged Fushiguro’s attack. They were working on one specific technique right now, one where Fushiguro blindsided Sukuna with his Shikigami, and then attacked immediately after. It was a difficult one that left him out of breath, but Sukuna didn’t let up with the repetitions. He never did. But Fushiguro couldn’t say he truly minded, because after a while the ache in his lungs disappeared and he was able to focus just on his opponent and his offense. He didn’t have the time to focus on anything else. Besides, he enjoyed every time he was able to land a hit on Sukuna. It was admittedly rare, but it did happen every once in a while. And Sukuna would grin at him differently than normal, which would make something constrict in Fushiguro’s chest. He didn’t have the oxygen to think about it too much.
The last attempt at the move had ended in failure because Fushiguro hadn’t utilized the cover of his Shikigami well enough, something he knew because Sukuna was constantly drilling it into his head, so this time he moved a little quicker and a little closer behind them. It was the right decision, and even with Sukuna expecting the attack like always, Fushiguro’s fist made contact with Sukuna’s head. He didn’t even worry about whether it would hurt him or not, because it never seemed to, but the impact did knock his head to the side a bit. The momentum of the attack kept him moving forward, out of Sukuna’s range, before he turned around to look at him.
Sukuna’s hand came up to his chin, where Fushiguro must have hit him, and he turned his gaze to Fushiguro. He wasn’t quite grinning, but the look on his face landed somewhere between amused and surprised. It was a new expression for him, and it threw Fushiguro off. He never knew what to expect from Sukuna, and even though striking him had been the goal, he still felt his defense rising.
It turned out to be unnecessary though, because the strange expression soon broke into Sukuna’s familiar smirk. He was more comfortable with that - at least its meaning was clear.
“Impressive - that’s the best you’ve done yet. Let’s move on to something new.” Sukuna cracked his neck from side to side. “I didn’t bring it up before because there’s value in training hand to hand, but now I think you would benefit from it. Have you ever incorporated cursed tools into your close-range attacks?”
Fushiguro wiped the sweat off his brow before answering. “I’ve trained with them a few times. But never in a real fight.”
“It’ll be a difficult balance, considering you need your hands to summon your Shikigami, but in the end it will increase your striking power. It doesn’t matter whether you make contact or not if there’s not enough strength behind the attack.” Sukuna tilted his head thoughtfully. “I’ll be right back with something.”
With that Sukuna disappeared, only to return a couple seconds later holding an item wrapped loosely in brown cloth. He started unwrapping its binding as he spoke. “This was used by Jujutsu sorcerers a millenia ago. I’ve kept it hidden since.” The cloth fell away, revealing a pristine dagger underneath. Fushiguro’s eyes widened at the sight - it was obviously well-crafted, and he could feel the energy radiating from it. When Sukuna held it out to him, he hesitated, but took it.
It was heavier than expected, for such a small thing - although for a dagger, it was actually longer than usual. The hilt was intricate, and the blade sharp. And now that he was holding it, he could tell it had even more cursed energy than he’d thought. It was a unique weapon, one that he connected with more than anything Maki had let him use.
“Where did you get this?” No one would willingly part with it.
Sukuna raised his eyebrows. “I think you already know the answer to that. Off a corpse.” He frowned when Fushiguro didn’t respond. “You don’t want it?”
Glancing between the dagger and Sukuna, Fushiguro already knew the answer.
He held the dagger up, felt the weight in his palm. “I want it.”
“Good,” Sukuna grinned. “How is it?”
“It’s...heavy. But it feels powerful. I want to try and train with it, I think.”
“Yes, that will be necessary. It’s an impressive weapon, but it can’t fix the flaws of an untrained user. I would know.” Sukuna scratched his chin. “I suppose you won’t be able to keep it at the school, anyone with half a brain will be able to sense it. I could hold onto–”
“That won’t be a problem.” That is, if he could get this to work, since it was about a fifty fifty shot at this point. Fushiguro squatted down to the ground and - here goes nothing - let the dagger sink into the shadows beneath him. Satisfied that he’d gotten it to work this time, he glanced up at Sukuna, who was looking at him with that strange expression again.
“Oh yes, that’ll work too.”