The Principal

The hammering of his fist against stone and wood. The rattling of his bones travelled up his arms. Every movement he witnessed went in slow motion. Every thud of his fist against stone or wood was a resounding beat that happened to the time of his heart, matching the music of battle that resonated in his mind.

Taking in a sharp breath time sped up, flashing to the next moment in a rain of blows. Every single movement was precise, practised, and executed to a perfect rhythm that beat in his chest.

Weaving and dodging between the swinging wooden practice frames, blows were being blocked by his arms as he felt his mind solidify, the feeling of his periphery sharpening, the sweat running down his head. The worn skin of his knuckles, shins and forearms stung against the brisk winter air. Shadows danced beneath him to the pace of his own body.

With a single movement, he flipped through the air, spiralling over the top of an attack, the scene changing with the movement. When he landed it was on hard-packed sawdust and sand. His bare feet pushed against the soft substance that gave out beneath his feet shifting and stirring. Trails in sawdust and sand showed the constant weave of combat that he participated in.

Weaving between blows directed at him, blocking strikes, and striking back. A rhythm to his heart. People attacked him, he didn't care how many, he would take them down. One at a time.

He fought, each strike powerful and crushing, striking vitals. Crushing windpipes and cracking joints. He was brutal, he was trained. He was deadly.

Slamming his fist towards someone he felt their hand catch his fist.

"Enough Atlas! Your childish attics have been tolerated long enough. Your 'hard work' means nothing when it is not used for the greater collective. You shall do as instructed."

The snapping words shattered his reality, the sweat running down his forehead was chilling to his very bone. His punch caught in a vice-like grip. The crushing maw of a predator closed around him.

He responded, and he remembered his response.

---

Stirring Atlas woke up, his chin heavy. His gaze swam for a moment? Where was he? At the monastery? No, he was in a group of abandoned apartment buildings. That was right, he had woken up in this world months ago? What was it… 9 months now, around there at least? Things were melding together.

Sighing he picked his sword up and strapped it to his side. He needed to go to the academy today. Yesterday had been filled with sparing with Toji because neither of them seemed to have impulse control when things got heated.

The fighting had been fun, it felt freeing. He enjoyed that fighting, he was fighting for himself. Staring out the gap in the wall he just shook his head. Memories like that were best to keep buried but he guessed some curses would follow you in any life huh? Well, he wasn't there now. He was here, in a world he could find his own path. And that was what he was doing, not because of duty, but because he wanted to.

This was his life.

Despite having the dreams, part of him knew he couldn't forget them, he didn't mind them. They just showed him what to be grateful for in this life. And being grateful for life was something he was willing to learn to do. Because he wanted to be grateful. It just made life a little… brighter. Now he wasn't the brightest guy, he would kill. But he also didn't see the need to hate the world. Especially not a world that gave him a second chance.

---

Walking up the stone steps to the Buddist temple he enjoyed the warmth of the sunshine against his skin. The feeling of the hot summer sun which was much colder than he was used to. Australia had some tough weather.

It was a pleasant warmth here, however.

Katana at his side, he wore simple clothes. A kimono that he had gotten from Toji, actually all the clothes he was wearing he had managed to get from Toji, striking a deal. One that was not favourable but oh well, that was a future him problem.

He had been asked to take care of a 'blessing,' the one person that Toji actually felt heart for. So he had accepted. It was a bit surprising seeing that Toji cared for his son, before he left the clan it seems he really did care. But that was beside the point, he had agreed that as long as he stayed in the Jujutsu Society that he would take care of his 'blessing.' For a set of clothes, amongst a few other things. But still… it was a really expensive pair of clothes.

The Kimono he wore was open over the top of a black undershirt that loosely hung off his frame and a pair of looser tan training pants that were held up by a tightly bound thicker rope about two fingers width. His Katana was tucked between the belt and the pants securely with the kimono over the top. Honestly, he liked the Kimono a lot, it was black with dark blue oni and dragon designs swirling around it. He might get some Tattoos with the same style actually.

Pulling his thoughts back to the present as he looked up and saw an ancient man at the top of the stairs he was climbing, stopping Atlas looked up at him, his head leaning to the side.

Taking a moment the two just stared at each other. Their faces were both as blank as they could make them. Expressionless eyes stared at each other, trying to glean the secrets of the other.

Breaking first Atlas bowed low as he said. "Greetings Teacher. I have come to learn, I heard that here is a place that would be safe for me to do so, providing lessons and experiences." His voice was low and humble, a soft drone as laced his tongue with honey. He knew how to be nice, and simply being so some considered charismatic.

"What is it you wish to learn young man? To fight? For what reason? You ask to learn but you do not tell me what knowledge you wish to gain, so how am I to teach?" The ancient man responded, his voice amused as he ran his fingers over his chin, the wrinkles of his skin moving with gnarled old hands. The man had no beard to stroke nor a strand on his head. His old skin was like leather that had been left in the sun.

But his body radiated a power that even Atlas felt.

"I wish to fight, to protect myself and avenge the wrongs done to me so that they may happen to no one after me," Atlas said, keeping his head low.

"Do you want to do so to protect those in the future? Or to make others suffer as you have." The man said, his last comment simply a statement. An observation instead of a question. He knew the answer. "I do not need you to answer, you shall know the answer and the real reason that you have come here. Because that is a reason only you can know hm?" His voice was like a warm ray of sunshine, the gentle fall of a waterfall.

"Come inside, we shall talk more over some tea, that sounds much more pleasant to me." The old man said, turning as he started to walk down the path that was littered with dry leaves. A cane waved back and forth in front of him. Only now did Atlas notice another detail. The man's eyes were solid white, his gaze wasn't staring at Atlas before. It wasn't staring at anything, he was blind.

Following behind him Atlas wondered how the man saw the world, there must have been a way, he didn't move like a blind man.

It didn't take long before they were in a small room. A tea set is already on the table. The old pottery kettle let out gentle whips of sweet-smelling steam.

"I hope you don't mind something sweeter young man. In my old age, I find it more pleasant to treat myself. I shall enjoy the years I have, not regret the ones that I have already lived. As I think you should do the same." The man said as he sat himself down slowly.

Pausing for a moment Atlas simply watched the man, stopping his own face from making any expressions, although he doubted he could hide what he was feeling from this man. Did he know something or was Atlas reading too much into it. It might be about the whole avenge thing, that was most likely it.

"Perhaps, but I think with all your wisdom, you would understand the anger that one can carry in their youth. I don't think that it is the right thing to do, no. But I do believe it is what is best." Atlas said as he sat down and picked the kettle up, pouring both of them a cup of tea.

Putting it down the faint clink of the pottery sounded through the room. The old man simply sat there for a moment, thinking the words over. Nodding his head he reached out and did something unexpected. He picked the kettle back up and poured more tea into Atlas' cup until it overflowed and ran into the saucer.

"How, young man, am I meant to teach you if you are already so full of knowledge? Both in fighting and wisdom? Your cup seems full already, so do you have room for my lessons? If you think you know everything, you can learn nothing. Or is there another reason that you are here?" The man said as he put the kettle back down on the tray.

Staring at the overflowed cup Atlas felt a bit stumped. The old man was reading him like a book, he already knew that he was here for another reason. Although he still had things to learn. "I may be good at fighting, but I believe that there is a lot that I need to learn about cursed energy and techniques. I can already expel positive energy and am highly proficient in reverse curse technique but I can't cast a simple curtain. Nor can I access my innate technique. I have a lot that I need to learn, that is why I am here." Atlas revealed as he picked up his cup and took a sip.

Taking a sip from his own cup the old man simply nodded his head. "That you can learn, and I think that there is a lot of wisdom you do not yet understand. No matter how mature you are for your age. Some lessons are learnt through life." The man said putting his cup back down. The shaking of his hands made the pottery clink for a few moments before he let go.

"Then will you accept me as a student?" Atlas asked, the one important question that he actually had. He knew the man was right, he didn't understand a lot of things about this world. He was not as wise as previous comments may have made him seem. And the old man knew that. He also knew that Atlas already had other thoughts and beliefs that would stop him from really learning some of that wisdom.

Smiling Atlas found himself liking this old man, who was most likely the principal. The only faculty member that was shown around this time was Masamichi Yaga. He was the second-year teacher around this time and then later the principal. Mostly likely after the man before him passed away.

"Yes, you may become a student. Do you wish to start next year as a third year? Or start now as a second year?" The old man asked.

Blinking in surprise Atlas said, "it's that easy?"

"I'm the principal, I way take in the pupils that I see fit to teach." The old man said. Blinking a few times in surprise Atlas found himself nodding his head before remembering the man was blind, and yes didn't answer the question either.

"Ah, yeah, I'll start next year then if that works… got a plan for how it is going to go?" Atlas asked mostly out of curiosity.

"You are an exchange student from the country, simple. What is your name?" The man said simply.

"Hoshi…" Atlas said waiting to see if the man responded, seeing no reaction he said. "Atlas Hoshi." His voice was somewhat cold. The man didn't react but his instinct was telling him something was off.

He just couldn't put his finger on it.

"Atlas Hoshi it is, I'll have everything taken care of by the time next year comes around. You are dismissed."

With no further questions, Atlas stood up from where he was sitting and made his way out of the room. Seeing no need to drag the conversation on further, just before he left he asked. "What day do classes start?" The last detail he needed to know.

"Same as other schools young man, don't be late." The old man responded before taking another sip of his tea. Closing the door Atlas made his way back the stairs that led out of the campus and started to make his way down them. Feeling somewhat odd. It was strange not knowing how he felt about the whole encounter but at least he got in. It was almost as easy as he imagined it. After all, Satoru had signed up Yuta and Yuji in a very similar way. Just dropped them in…

Interesting.

Welp he wasn't going to complain if it made his life easier.

Staring to make his way back to the apartments he let a small smile cross his face. Maybe 'school' wasn't going to be as bad as he thought it was going to be.

---

Ayumu sat in the small room alone now. The steaming cups of tea before him. The soft golden light of the sun caught on the whips that rose from the cups. His face was a blank mask of thought. Atlas Hoshi… he had never heard that name, Hoshi at least, he had heard a lot of names though. The strangest thing that he saw, however, was how the boy existed. His cursed energy seemed very low. But Ayumu did not see with his eyes. No.

He saw with cursed energy and his technique. And his technique showed him something fascinating. It was as if there were hundreds of reflections of the boy all existing in exactly the same spot. Cursed energy overlapped itself over and over and over again. Making an incredibly dense amount of energy that spanned not only this plane but hundreds. Hundreds that even he could not really see, just feel.

Someone unknown with such an unknown power. It was best to keep them close, not only to keep them safe but to keep them good. Or do his best to at least. Smiling at the cup before him he wondered if maybe his cup was getting too full as well. Maybe he should learn some wisdom of his own hm? Now that was a question he could ponder.