The classroom was quiet, except for the dull scratching of pens and the bored tapping of keyboards. A monotonous voice droned from the front, explaining something about sociology, or maybe string theory—Riku wasn't sure anymore.
His head rested on his hand, eyelids half-shut.
'I almost forgot how boring this shit is,' he thought, eyes glazing over as he stared at the same PowerPoint slide that had been on-screen for fifteen goddamn minutes.
When the final bell rang, he bolted out like the building was on fire. College wasn't harder than high school—it was just more boring in slow motion.
The moment he was free, he made his way to the park. The same park where this entire cosmic joke started.
It was quiet. No kids, no joggers, just a lone pigeon pecking at disappointment.
"Alright," he said, glancing around. "Let's see what this cursed energy crap can actually do."
He sat cross-legged in the grass, took a deep breath, and focused.
The world slowed. He tuned out the sound of rustling leaves and honking cars. Something else stirred beneath his skin—foreign, raw, electric.
He tried pushing it to his hands. Nothing.
Again.
Still nothing.
Riku sighed, rubbing his temples. "I never expected it to be easy, but come on."
For the next hour, he concentrated, strained, cursed under his breath, and mentally threatened the universe at least twice. Eventually—
A faint flicker of cursed energy buzzed to life in his palm, like static electricity crackling with intent.
It grew stronger. Sharper. Darker.
He stared, wide-eyed. "Holy shit…"
He jumped to his feet, fist clenched in victory.
"YEEEEESSSS!" he screamed, spinning in place with a grin that could've lit a city block.
He took a breath, calming himself.
"Okay. So if I remember right… cursed energy increases strength, speed, and stamina. Which means…" He looked at his hands. "That fixes the stamina problem. Strength too, kinda. I'm still nowhere near Gojo or Sukuna, but… maybe a bit stronger than Yuji was before he got cursed energy."
He frowned. "That's… basically nothing. Goddammit. I'm still weak as hell."
He slapped his cheeks lightly. "Focus. First thing's first—proficiency."
He clenched his fist, channeled energy through it… and punched the ground.
CRACK.
The grass exploded beneath his hand, leaving a neat little crater in the dirt.
He blinked. Smiled.
Then frowned harder.
"…Why the fuck did I do that?" He looked around. "No one's here now, but what if someone finds it later? Great job, dipshit. Day Two and you're already destroying public property."
He bolted.
When he got home, he burst through the door, muttered a quick "Hi" to his parents, and took the stairs three at a time. His mom stared after him.
"…Has he been acting strange to you lately?" she asked.
His dad shrugged. "He's a young adult. Probably just wants some privacy."
Upstairs, Riku was already down to his shorts, standing in the middle of his room, breathing steadily.
"Alright," he muttered. "Full-body cursed energy manipulation. Let's do this."
He closed his eyes, pulled that energy from his core, and let it spread—arms, legs, chest, even to his fingertips. It was hot and heavy, buzzing under his skin like a second heartbeat.
Then he dropped into a push-up.
"One."
Two.
Three.
By the time he reached one hundred, he was sweating bullets but still moving.
He moved into sit-ups—one hundred.
Then jumping jacks—one fifty.
He collapsed on the floor, chest heaving, sweat soaking into the carpet.
'As I thought… my stamina's already improved. If I keep this up, I'll have a real body in no time.'
He stared at the ceiling, still catching his breath.
'Now, to increase cursed energy, I've got two options: slowly train and build it up, or fight curses to gain real combat experience…'
He rolled his eyes.
'And since I don't know how to fight for shit and I'm not looking to get murdered on Day Two, guess it's option A: obsessive, painful, non-stop training until I collapse.'
Riku dragged himself into bed. Legs heavy, mind buzzing. He sat cross-legged and closed his eyes again.
"Let's see how far I can push it before I pass out," he muttered, channeling cursed energy into his limbs again.
Outside his window, the wind rustled through the trees.
Inside, the idiot ex-college student turned accidental sorcerer was meditating like his life depended on it.
Because it probably did.