Jujutsu Kaisen: The Sorceress of Control

Go back to the previous chapter if you've already read this one. I made a mistake.

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Makima calmly looked at her hands, remembering the days when, purely for experimentation, she tortured animals to death. The "bang," as she called it, had emerged after many failed attempts. She had considered it a simple technique, something she had discovered by pure chance. However, after crossing paths with Mai, she realized the truth: it wasn't just any technique; it was her cousin's cursed technique.

With that revelation in mind, she decided to try something else. If the "bang" was Mai's technique, then perhaps she could replicate it. She closed her eyes and focused. "Metal..." she thought, imagining the atomic structure of metal forming out of thin air. Calmly, she opened her palm, and suddenly, a small metallic splinter emerged from her skin.

A smile appeared on her face. "I knew it..." she murmured. "Mai accepted her inferiority." That explained why she could access her technique. It wasn't a mere accident or coincidence; it was proof that once someone submitted to her power, she could take everything from them—techniques, abilities, everything. "In some way, I have access to those beneath me," she reflected while playing with the small metallic splinter between her fingers.

She looked at Rika, who was sound asleep beside her. That child was hers, too. Makima didn't fully understand how Rika's pink energy worked, but she knew that, in some way, she could also access it. Although the techniques didn't manifest automatically in her mind like her own cursed technique, it didn't matter. "I have to recreate them my way... or see how my subordinates do it," she thought, as she gazed at the girl with cold yet satisfied eyes.

She moved closer to Rika, embracing her possessively. The warmth of the girl's body felt comforting, but what pleased her most was knowing she had total control over her. "To think I was about to kill you..." she whispered softly into Rika's ear, with a malicious smile. "You'll be my favorite dog from now on."

She settled next to the girl, letting sleep envelop them both, but in Makima's mind, everything was calculated. Rika was no longer just a child; she was a tool, a resource that Makima would use when necessary. "You don't need to know anything else," she thought, as the darkness of the night surrounded them. "I'll take care of everything."

Makima stood in the center of the training room, attentively watching Rika's every movement. The room was spacious and cold, filled with echoes that amplified the sounds of cursed energy strikes that resonated in the air. Rika's control over her cursed energy had improved greatly, but it still wasn't perfect. Makima smiled subtly, enjoying the progress of her cute dog, although there was always something she didn't like: the way Rika still felt uncomfortable with her role.

"You're doing well, Rika," said Makima in a soft, almost indifferent tone, as she observed the girl's movements, who was struggling to contain her energy within a glowing sphere. Though Rika's power manifested more clearly, it still wasn't enough to meet Makima's expectations. "But you still have a long way to go before you're perfect."

Rika, visibly tired, nodded without daring to look at her directly. The weight of her submission still weighed on her, and Makima's constant reminders of her inferiority only heightened the discomfort she felt. Despite that, she couldn't deny that she had come to accept her position. She had learned to obey, though with the discomfort of constantly being called "dog."

Makima slowly turned on her heels, walking away from Rika and calmly pacing the room. Her steps were soft, but each one was filled with an unsettling certainty. There was something in the air, a tension that enveloped her. The twelve-year-old girl she had been a few years ago was no longer the same. She had changed, and her thoughts had grown darker.

"Rika, have you thought about what I told you?" Makima asked without looking back. The girl's voice was soft, almost a whisper, but the weight of her authority could be felt in every word. She knew Rika wouldn't dare contradict her, but she was interested in her servant's response. Rika lifted her gaze, her energy pulsing faintly, as she nodded.

Makima knew Rika was improving. She had trained with her intensely over the past few months, guiding her, molding her. The servant was no longer the same as when Makima had "acquired" her two years ago. She had done her part in shaping her. And though Makima showed no signs of joy, deep inside, she felt a deep satisfaction in having turned someone so weak into something that belonged to her.

Meanwhile, Makima had also been improving. She had enslaved a clan member, Ranta. Although Ranta's eyes allowed him to retain his opponent's movements, something she had managed to replicate, she still didn't fully understand how to use it. Unlike her father's and Naoya's abilities, which she had been unable to copy, Ranta's technique offered a way to retain her enemy, to retain their power. It wasn't as efficient as her own technique, but it was useful. Makima found it frustrating not being able to dominate her father or Naoya, but with Ranta's technique, she felt that what had happened with Mai and Rika wasn't just luck.

Although her mother had never understood the true extent of her power, Makima felt her control expanding, even when her mother kept interfering, questioning her strength. "She's weak," Makima thought, disdainful. "She'll never understand what I really am."

Leaving the training room, Makima retreated to her room. There, she sat in front of the mirror, gazing at herself. The reflection of her face showed a twelve-year-old girl with an empty, cold, and calculating look. They were not the eyes of a sweet child. She had long left that version of herself behind.

Makima remembered her mother, always trying to curb her impulse to grow stronger, to stop her from killing. She knew her mother cared for her, but Makima could no longer tolerate such weakness. She didn't want to be held back by anyone, least of all by someone so insignificant.

Recently, she had started plotting a plan. She knew her mother wouldn't be around much longer in her life, and that thought reassured her. The feeling of liberation, of finally being able to remove any obstacle in her way, grew stronger each day.

Suddenly, Makima lay down on the bed, hugging the pillow as if it were a valuable object. She closed her eyes and let her mind wander. Her mother's image briefly appeared but was quickly brushed aside. She didn't need her. She was the future, and her mother was just a burden.

At her side, Rika, who had been called to the room, cautiously approached. She had earned a place in Makima's life. She came closer, and Makima looked at her with a cold smile.

"Everything will change soon, Rika," Makima whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'll be free, and no one will be able to stop me."

"Makima..." Rika's voice was soft, almost a whisper, but the urgency of her question was noticeable. "Are you sure about this? She... she is your mother."

Makima slowly raised her gaze, and for a moment, their eyes met. The girl's expression was

Makima slowly lifted her gaze, and for a moment, her eyes met Rika's. The girl's expression was one of disturbing calm, as if nothing and no one could affect her.

Makima remained silent for a moment, evaluating the question. Rika was right that her mother, despite being weak, was her mother. But that bond was like a rusted chain that would soon break. Makima no longer needed that woman. She saw her as an obstacle, a weight that she was determined to remove.

"Yes," said Makima coldly, her tone clear and sharp. "She's my mother, but that doesn't mean she should still be part of my life. She has held me back for too long. And I don't need her. I'm stronger than her."

Rika, though she had accepted her place as a servant and was accustomed to Makima's cruel and cold ways, couldn't help but feel a pang of worry. She knew what Makima was planning, what she had been planning for so long. But the idea that Makima was willing to eliminate her own mother was unsettling. It was as if everything human about her was being eroded by something or someone.

"No... I don't understand, Makima. If you kill her, what will be left of you?" Rika asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

Makima didn't bother to look at Rika when she responded. Her voice remained cold, distant, but with crushing certainty.

"I will be freer. There is no place for weakness in my path. Once she's gone, no one will be able to stop me. And I will finally make the decisions in my life."

Rika looked at her in silence, Makima's words resonating in her mind. She knew she couldn't stop her, that she had no right to. And yet, she couldn't help but feel that the girl before her had already changed, was no longer the same. There was something dangerous in the gleam of her eyes, something beyond what Rika could have imagined.

Makima, lost in her thoughts, looked back at the door and then at Rika. The movements of her servant were tense, clearly conflicted, but Rika stayed silent, accepting the truth without saying another word.

"This is already decided," Makima concluded, in a tone that left no room for doubt. "What comes next is inevitable. And you... you will be by my side, won't you?"

Rika nodded slowly, her face impassive, though there was still a flicker of discomfort in her eyes. Despite everything she had accepted, she couldn't help but feel that the line between humanity and monstrosity in Makima was becoming more and more blurred.

Makima settled into the bed, her expression impassive as Rika remained standing nearby. The atmosphere, though charged with tension, seemed almost ordinary to Makima, as if every action she took was already calculated and planned with precision. Her gaze shifted to Rika.

"Good," said Makima in a soft, yet authoritative voice. "Take off your clothes, we're going to sleep. Tomorrow will be a special day."

Rika didn't respond, but it wasn't necessary. She had learned to accept every command without hesitation, and she did so without showing the slightest doubt. She undressed with an unsettling naturalness, as if she had done it hundreds of times before, without changing her expression in the slightest. Her gaze remained respectful.

She lay down beside Makima, and the young girl wrapped an arm around her possessively, drawing her closer to her body. Rika made no move to pull away. There was no room for resistance. This was the dynamic Makima had imposed.

Makima, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, hugged her closer, her voice a warm whisper in the darkness of the room.

"I suppose you'll be the most sentimental thing left from tomorrow onwards," she said in a low tone, as if sharing an intimate thought, one that felt ironic to her. Her tone wasn't of genuine affection, but rather a possession that was more complex than any other type of emotional bond.

Rika said nothing. She stayed silent, her body tensing slightly under the embrace, but not rejecting it. She knew that in Makima's world, where power was everything, there was no room for anything but submission or strength. And in that moment, Rika felt completely trapped in submission.

Makima closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of Rika's body against her own. It wasn't that she had affection for her, but she did see in Rika something useful, another tool in her path to absolute power. And, for some reason, even in her coldness, she felt that Rika's closeness gave her a kind of... comfort.

The night passed in silence, the sound of both their breathing filling the room, while Makima's future was already being woven in her thoughts, unshakable and full of ambition.