Understanding

The air shimmered, shining with a mirage-like light emanating from cracks that slowly spread out from Atlas. The space around him shattered into floating shards of glass, a high pitch ring sounding through the air with each crack that formed, each snap of space.

Taking a deep breath Atlas focused, trying to channel his energy into something, anything that was inside him. Anything that the energy could channel into. But it only started to cultivate in his body. Once again strengthened his physical prowess but did nothing more.

Apart from space fracturing against his skin, nothing more happened.

Sighing Atlas let out a small huff as he threw his hand to the side. A shattering blade of energy that looked to be made from folding shards of space flew from his hand, slamming into a wall and rending it. Splitting the structure down the middle with a clean cut. One that was too clean for brick. The only breakage reflected the shattered shard-like nature of the cut.

Sitting down with a deep sigh Atlas stared at the split. His eyes trailed over its details. What did it mean! Did it even mean anything? He didn't know. He was just trying to find out what the fuck was going on with his technique.

Feeling a hand against his shoulder he sighed once more as he hung his head.

"You'll get there lad, don't stress yourself. Sometimes it isn't about the journey, but the destination. Wait… no other way around. What I mean to say is that no one your age would have control like you have… really. It's astounding what you have been able to achieve in trying to find your technique, only because you couldn't find it has your control gotten so good I think. The only reason I can beat you is because I have a technique." Frank said, providing encouragement and a coffee, they had recently gone to 'pick up supplies' from a gang that was housed nearby.

Taking the cup Atlas held it between his hands as he looked at the wall before him. Sighing, "Yeah, that is why I need to find my technique. I don't have one so I am weaker." Atlas stated.

"No, no, no. You know what I mean lad, I have been alive and practising Jujutsu for much longer than you. And yet even without a technique, you force me to use mine. You are impressive, don't doubt that for a second." He said as he pushed over a piece of rubble with his foot and sat down on it as he looked down the street, the ruined and abandoned buildings empty husks of what would have once been heavy industry.

"What happened here?" Atlas asked as he looked at the melancholy look on Frank's face as he gazed upon the scene.

He hadn't really cared to ask, it had just been part of the surroundings when he started here. A rundown area on the very far edges of Tokyo bordering an industrial area. He had just adopted it as a way of life like he had accepted many things. Such as Frank being his mentor despite being a curse user. In fact Frank had done nothing 'evil,' sure he robbed a gang for supplies but he never killed anyone or really caused harm. He just lived his life…

"That lad is a very long story. Maybe one for another time. I had something I wanted to talk to you about." The man said as he pulled the piece of rubble a bit closer and moved another one over. Sitting down on the now-offered seat Atlas showed confusion on his face, what could Frank want to talk about?

"What is it? Is everything alright?" His voice was a mix of concern and curiosity. He had never seen Frank act so… Trepidatious.

Picking the junk out from under his nails Frank stayed staring at his hands for a moment, opening his mouth as if he was about to speak before closing it with a sigh. Pulling off his bucket hat and rubbing his bald head with a grimy hand he said. "I was thinking lad… that maybe, you might be best to go somewhere proper. Get some proper teaching not my… abusive methods." His voice was low and somewhat… meek.

Sitting there in shock Atlas didn't know what to feel… honestly Frank was one of the few people he had properly interacted with since coming to this world. The only person he interacted with positively actually. The other people he interacted with regularly were the gang they took food from.

Shaking his head Atlas said. "What is bringing this on? What?" Trying to better understand the situation.

"Your impressive lad… very talented despite your age. You're 16 and already using reverse cursed technique. Your cursed energy is special and your drive is outstanding." His voice gained traction as he spoke. "You could do better as a sorcerer than running around with an old bloke like me. You deserve to have a chance at a proper life." His voice was somewhat sorrowful as he looked up at Atlas, finally meeting eyes with the boy.

"Somethings going on here. You have been more than a fantastic teacher and I will admit there have been moments when I have been… mad. At you. But look, the Higher-Ups don't respond lightly to outside intervention from what I know, such as an already trained kid coming in and working for them. Hell, I would be a third year if I even went to Jujutsu High, and on top of that. If that 'asylum' that I woke up in was related to them. I don't want to go back there... or to them." Atlas said, letting out a heavy sigh he leaned forward and continued.

"Look, I don't know what is driving you to say this, but I had nothing when I woke up in the asylum but scrubs and a bad attitude and honestly, could have ended up in a poor situation. If you were someone with malicious intent. But I had no leads and wanted well… something, to ground myself at least. To learn, and to grow. You did wonders for helping that happen. Honestly."

"I think that something is going on, whatever happened that led to you being in… this situation. But as far as I know, you're a psychotic teacher that has helped me improve and the only guy that I know right now. I don't have any want or need to go to Jujutsu High. Look… I'm happy you're trying to think of me but I can't leave you alone out here. I found you eating rats and someone has to put some proper food on your plate. So whatever memories or experiences are getting you to say this, they shouldn't be making you push me away, as far as I am aware you helped me when I ran away from a bad situation. Your a good... decent guy in my eyes." His words were somewhat hesitant. Atlas never was the best with words but Frank actually had started to hold some meaning in his heart. He was grateful that the man he found was Frank and not someone else.

Standing up he took another deep drought of the coffee and said, "Who else would let a kid smoke. I've got my reasons but I'm not leaving until I want to. So toughen up buttercup." His voice reflected the smirk on his face as he patted the old man's shoulder. The thick pad of multiple shirts gave out some dull thuds in response.

Making his way back towards the apartments Atlas didn't turn around. There must be some story here, some history that had led a man like Frank to be on the streets as a curse user but it didn't matter to him.

--- Frank ---

Sitting there he watched as Atlas' back slowly shrunk before he disappeared around a corner and into the apartment complex. He was feeling a bit confused about the boy's words. But he supposed he was right, wanting him to go to Jujutsu High was maybe a mistake. Who knows what the 'asylum's' relationship to the High-Ups was and until the boy figured that out he would likely try to stay hidden.

He had for a long time felt that this talk was coming and it was something that in the end he was glad happened. Atlas was clearly thinking about things on a much larger scale than kids his age would normally be thinking. In a lot of ways Frank just wanted Atlas to be able to have friends his age but he wasn't his dad… he wasn't a dad at all.

Sighing he leaned back, looking at the drifting clouds. His face troubled as he thought back to his past… some things that he wasn't proud of. Some things that he could have done better. Everyone had made mistakes in their lives, but he felt like he had made a few too many.

Watching the clouds drift by he couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe. Atlas was a way to make up for all of this, the boy clearly was abnormal, both with maturity and talent. He was learning quickly, growing. Adapting, taking in everything around it. Despite the roadblock he was facing with his technique, he marched forward in other areas that he felt he had better control over.

He would go far, very far.

If he was given the chance. Since it was clear he didn't want to go to Jujutsu High he would do his best to stay by his side and help him grow when he could. He might not be the best man, but he sure as hell could be a teacher. Chuckling dryly to himself he wondered, no, he knew that there would be more mistakes he made. But he would learn from them. Hopefully.

--- Kenjaku ---

Some called it 'luck,' he called it intuition. Knowing where to be at the right time, a sense. One he had developed over many, many years. Someone didn't live for over a thousand years and not start to pick up on some small things. Seeing dynasties rise and fall. Empires be razed, and raising some of his own. He sometimes just… knew.

It was how he was able to be so prepared. His intuition had been honed.

And right now, his intuition was telling him to not engage with the young man called Atlas. Not a boy, no, he knew when a body was being piloted by another mind. He had done it himself plenty.

That man was someone dangerous, dangerous enough to require elimination? Possibly, but their technique was too useful to just throw away. And he couldn't take the body for long enough for him to use it. He already had another body that he needed to inhabit for his plan to work.

He would let Atlas live, for now, he was growing, and at a dangerous rate. So it may be a mistake. But he believed that it would be alright. Things were about to be set in motion, and it wasn't like Atlas was in any position to stop them from starting to move right now. He couldn't possibly know how to interfere. It would be alright.

He would lure him in some other way and get him to work for him. After all, right now his distrust of the Jujutsu Society was more than clear.

He would take advantage of that.

Standing up from where he was crouching, his long business coat fluttering at the motion. The harsh wind bit into his exposed face.

Looking down the side of the building at the old man that Atlas was currently staying with he tilted his head. He might be useful, yes he might be… he was… vulnerable, hurting people always were.

He needed Atlas to learn his technique which may be tricky, but at the pace he was growing that wouldn't be an issue. And if everything went to plan he could just have The King of Curses take care of him. No one would be able to stand up to his might when he finally arose.

Everything was still going to fall into place. It would all go as he planned.

--- Atlas ---

Feeling a chill travel up his spine Atlas looked out the broken window, more like a missing wall. At the destroyed scene of the industrial area that stretched endlessly out before him. Merging into the distant city that bustled with bright lights, even in this setting sun. The warm golden orange highlighted the corners of the skyscrapers and lit up windows that reflected the brilliant shine.

He had never seen a city that big before. Even in his old life, the biggest he had seen was quaint lesser cities, it was an odd feeling. To be seeing something that you once dreamt of roaming, the wishes of a child lingering like a playful laugh in the back of his mind.

He still wanted to wander those streets and look up with awe that he knew he would no longer feel. To once more pretend that everything would be alright, that he could be who he dreamed of being. He could in this world at least, but some bitterness would never leave him.

After all, it was a bitterness that clung to his heart.

Letting out a sigh as the wind danced through his black hair, waving it back and forth he looked down at his hands. Seeing the beginning of hard callouses starting to develop. His arms thickened with muscle that was still developing in. His shoulders had broadened and he even got taller.

He was starting to feel more himself.

Shaking his head he looked back at the wonderful scene, one day, he would be able to walk those streets like he wanted, without fear of tomorrow or the challenges ahead. One day.

Standing up he clapped his hands together and let out a loud huff. An old abandoned industrial district had one thing that he needed a lot of. Curses, the sun was setting, it was time to start practising.

Stepping forward he started to plummet, the wind ripping past his ears with a howl. His clothes flapped wildly. But as he fell he felt free. Like he could soar. If only for a moment.

It was wonderful.

Turning he felt his legs impact the ground, the harsh force travelling up as a shock of cursed energy negated the impact splitting the concrete that he just crashed into. Turning stone to powder and webbing cracks through the floor as shards of broken ground split up at an angle.

Slowly standing up he shook his legs out a bit, looking forward. Cracking his knuckles, and running in to find prey.

---

The air lingered with a moistness, the soft dew gathered at the edges of leaves and plants. Hanging off old billboards and street signs. Overgrown clumps of plants shone in the soft daylight that peaked over the horizon. The gentle breeze made it wave, softly.

The soft concrete a cool grey, and the blueish shades and cool colours of the abandoned street contrasted by the vibrant greens of overgrowth and the warm orange of the sunlight. The whispering of the wind that gently travelled between cracks in the building's walls and the soft flutter of paper blowing down the street…

Contrasted by.

The crashing of a giant horrid body smashing through a concrete wall. Darting behind it was a blur of black, a thick coat trailed the movement of the blurred figure that slammed into the chest of the beast. Sending in once more caving through structures. Destroying the serene atmosphere with the billboard that it slammed into, the metal folding around it with the harsh impact.

The crimson blood ran down from the figure that emerged from the dust and debris.

"God that hurt you piece of shit, and just about as I was going to get rid of your friend. Typical that curses attack from behind, like the words of a human huh? You're just like your dad." Atlas said, cursing the beast as he walked forward, the wounds in his arm stitching together with each fall of his foot. Healing at a rapid pace.

As the Curse fell from the billboard and slammed into the ground, scurrying back to its feet, apprehensive gaze staring with shaking eyes up at the demon that slowly marched towards it.

"You think that beings made from fear can feel fear themselves? Your shaking like a leaf dude, chill out. I'll make it quick." Atlas said as he raised his hand, his hand covered in an ethereal light that shone with a strange hue of purple and blue. The cracking air around his hand charged with harsh static.

As the Cursed tried to run the hand was brought down in a long downward motion, splitting the road until it reached the creature, an arc of broken space. The shattering of the gap between dimensions.

Atlas was starting to understand it, his energy didn't split space. It frayed the gap between the planes of the third dimension. Just like the 3-dimensional world was made out of countless 2-dimensional planes. His power frayed the gap between the countless 3-dimensional planes of a 4-dimensional world would be made off.

Splitting things that were not meant to be spread to either side of it.

The shattering of the Curse rattled through the air as the wind rushed in to fill in the scar that his attack had left. The rustling of papers and trash flowed into the broken gash in the ground. The Curse was gone, killed the moment the attack hit it.

He was getting tired, there was no way that something like that should have been able to hit him.

Shaking his head he started to make his way back to the apartments.