Jujutsu Kaisen: The Sorceress of Control

The warm evening light painted the sky as Rika approached the infirmary once again. It had been her daily routine for weeks: patiently waiting until Shoko finished with her patients and pleading with her, once more, to teach her reverse cursed energy. At first, Rika had been polite, almost timid, but over time her persistence had become second nature.

Rika entered the infirmary, determination shining in her eyes. Shoko, already knowing what was coming, sighed as she gathered her tools and stored the medicines.

"You're here again..." Shoko murmured without looking up. She lit a cigarette and slumped into her chair, exhaling the smoke with resigned calm. Rika didn't say anything at first, standing firm like a soldier awaiting orders.

"I'm not giving up, Shoko-san," she finally said. Her tone was resolute, but not rude. There was something in her voice that conveyed a mix of respect and unyielding determination.

Shoko glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, taking another drag from her cigarette. "I know. You never give up, I've noticed. But I've already told you this isn't easy. It's not like learning a new combat technique. Reverse cursed energy isn't for everyone."

"I understand," Rika replied quickly. "But if Makima-sama trusts me, I can't disappoint her. I'll do whatever it takes to learn."

Makima's name always came up in these conversations, which only made Shoko hesitate more. Still, after weeks of the same conversation repeated over and over, something inside her relented. Maybe because she no longer knew how to stop Rika's stubbornness, or maybe because she recognized a bit of herself in that persistence. Either way, she put out the cigarette in the ashtray and stood up.

"Alright," Shoko said, crossing her arms. "I'll explain how reverse cursed energy works. But I'm not responsible if you don't understand anything because, like I said, I'm not good at teaching."

Rika's eyes gleamed with anticipation, and she sat across from Shoko, ready to absorb every word. Shoko began, though her tone quickly shifted from firm to somewhat uncertain.

"Reverse cursed energy is... well, it's like... You have to think in negatives to create something positive. It's like... something like using cursed energy, but reversing it... it's complicated."

Rika blinked, trying to understand. "Reversing it? How...?"

Shoko frowned. "Yeah, I mean... No. Look, imagine that... normally, we use cursed energy to destroy or attack, right? But in this case, it's like... uh, no... Let me think, how do I explain this?"

Rika didn't want to interrupt, but she was getting lost in the explanation. "Is it like... flipping the energy around?"

Shoko scratched her head, clearly frustrated. "Sort of, yes, but no. It's more like... when you gather cursed energy in a negative way, and that... produces something positive. Healing is a side effect, let's say."

"Side effect?" Rika tilted her head, clearly confused. "So, how do I channel it?"

Shoko sighed. "That's the hard part. It's not something you can just... do. You have to feel it. It's like... like when you sense something wrong in your body, and then you fix it, but with cursed energy instead of medicine." She paused, frowning. "I don't know if this is making sense..."

Rika pressed her lips together, trying to piece it all together, but the more Shoko spoke, the more incomprehensible it became. It seemed like every attempt to explain only complicated the concept further. Shoko's frustration was palpable, and so was Rika's confusion.

"Okay, forget all that," Shoko said, lighting another cigarette. "The important thing is that you feel it. There's no clear formula. You just have to... understand it."

Rika nodded slowly, though inside she wasn't sure if she understood anything. After weeks of persistence, she had finally gotten Shoko to teach her, but now she realized that learning on her own would not be as straightforward as she had imagined.

Shoko, noticing Rika's silence, tried to soften the blow. "Look, don't get discouraged. No one learns this overnight. Not even I did. You're going to have to practice a lot and fail many times. But don't worry. If you really want to learn, you'll get there eventually."

Rika nodded with the same determination as always. Though Shoko's explanations were confusing, she wasn't going to give up. She knew Makima trusted her, and if Shoko said she needed to feel it, then that's what she would do. She would keep trying until she understood, no matter how impossible it seemed at that moment.

And so, every evening at sunset, Rika would continue coming to the infirmary, insisting, learning, even as frustration slowly set in for both of them. For Shoko, reverse cursed energy remained too abstract to teach, and for Rika, it was as elusive as the smoke that always filled the infirmary.

The soft scent of sweets floated in the air as Makima silently watched Satoru Gojo eat with almost childlike enthusiasm. Since Rika had started spending her afternoons with Doctor Ieiri, these quiet moments had become part of her routine, though she didn't find them necessary, nor particularly interesting. Gojo seemed to enjoy every second. For her, however, the most interesting thing was studying Gojo.

Makima was not someone to rush her plans, and so the time spent with Gojo didn't feel like a waste. She was patient, calculating. There was something she wanted to understand, something she needed to learn. She watched as he took another pastry, with the carefree air only someone like him could have, as if the whole world was his playground.

Finally, she decided to ask the question that had been circling her mind for days. "Sensei, how does domain expansion work? And how does one perform it?"

Gojo froze for a split second, his relaxed expression faltering before his smile returned. Makima watched him closely, every small gesture, every movement, trying to read beyond the surface.

"Well, well..." he began, with that smile she knew all too well. "That was unexpected." Gojo always spoke with a mix of nonchalance and arrogance. He liked being the center of attention; she had known that from the moment she met him.

Gojo leaned back as if his response was going to be a simple game. However, Makima didn't take her eyes off him. She wanted to see if his answer would be superficial or if, this time, he would offer something deeper.

"Well," he finally said, "a domain expansion is... how can I explain it simply... Imagine you have a blank canvas, and you can project your entire world onto it. When you perform a domain expansion, you basically impose your reality onto the opponent's. Inside your domain, you're the king... and everyone else is trapped in your game."

Makima didn't move. A simple analogy wouldn't satisfy her. She knew Gojo spoke lightly to avoid going too deep, but she needed details, she needed to understand. Her silence forced Gojo to continue.

"But it's not easy," he added, now more serious. "It requires an immense amount of control over cursed energy and a deep understanding of your own technique."

Gojo paused, savoring the small act of teaching something important. But Makima only wanted the truth, not the show.

"When you do an expansion, you're using everything of yourself: your energy, your technique, your essence. Everything has to be in balance. And if you fail..." Gojo looked at her directly, his tone darker for a moment, "your opponent will devour it all. Literally."

Makima processed his words carefully. Balance. That meant it required more than just a simple power reserve. It was a matter of absolute control. Her mind calculated possible variations, errors, and what she needed to avoid those mistakes.

"And how do you learn to do it?" she asked, her tone unchanged but more insistent.

Gojo smiled, now with a mischievous glint in his eyes, as if enjoying a game only he understood. "That... is the fun part, Makima-chan. You can't learn it just with theory. You have to feel it. It's like... have you ever tried to learn how to swim by reading a book? Of course not. You have to jump into the water."

Makima remained silent. Gojo's answer was as vague as she expected. "Jump into the water" — that was a metaphor she perfectly understood. She wasn't satisfied, but she wouldn't show it. It was only a matter of time and observation, learning enough to not rely on anyone else's words.

Makima listened in silence as Gojo spoke about domain expansion, catching every word, every pause he made to give more weight to what he was saying. She didn't interrupt once, but her mind was analyzing at full speed. Gojo, with his carefree and playful style, didn't seem to take anything seriously, but she knew that attitude was a façade. Deep down, he was studying her too.

After his explanation, Gojo seemed ready to continue eating in peace, but Makima wasn't satisfied. There were more things she needed to understand.

"And one more thing," she continued, her tone soft but persistent, "what about incomplete domains? I've heard some sorcerers can't create a full domain but still manage to use something similar. How does that work?"

Gojo put down the sweet he was halfway through, raising an eyebrow. His expression softened, though his smile didn't completely fade. Now it was he who was deciding whether to dig deeper or just give a surface answer.

"Incomplete domains, huh... you're asking tough questions today, Makima-chan." He leaned back in his seat, as if considering how to begin. "You see, not all sorcerers can create a perfect domain expansion. It requires exceptional control, like I said before. But some have found a kind of 'shortcut.' Those are the incomplete domains."

Gojo paused, searching the table for another sweet as he continued. "An incomplete domain is... like trying to build a house without all the necessary tools. You have a structure, but it's full of gaps. It doesn't completely cover your opponent, and it doesn't guarantee your technique will hit for sure. It's like imposing part of your reality on theirs, but without the certainty that it'll work one hundred percent."

Makima nodded slightly but didn't take her attention off him. She wanted more. She wasn't just interested in the technicalities; she wanted to know the limits of that power and what really set it apart from a full domain.

Gojo continued without her needing to press him. "The advantage of an incomplete domain is that it requires less energy. It's easier to handle. You can throw it out quickly in the middle of a battle, even if it's not as efficient. But, of course, since it's not perfect, stronger opponents can escape or find weak points."

"So," Makima asked, crossing her arms as she processed what he was saying, "is it more of an emergency technique?"

Gojo nodded, smiling. "Exactly. It's something sorcerers usually use when they don't have enough time or energy to deploy a full domain. Or they're just not skilled enough. But an incomplete domain can still be very useful if used smartly." He paused, as if enjoying the moment when she grasped the implications.

Makima processed all the information. An incomplete domain was a practical, though imperfect, solution for sorcerers who didn't have the talent or experience for something more advanced. In her mind, she began forming a plan. She knew that domains, whether complete or incomplete, would be crucial in her training and, eventually, in her rise.

Gojo watched her, as if he could read something in her concentration, but he didn't say anything more about it. He went back to picking up a sweet, as if the conversation had been nothing more than light chatter. For him, maybe it was, but for Makima, every word held a deeper weight.

Makima looked at Gojo, evaluating him once more, while he continued enjoying his moment of relaxation. Learning the secrets behind domains, and more importantly, mastering them, would be a challenge, but not an impossible one. She knew that, eventually, she would succeed.

"Thank you," she said finally, her voice calm but filled with determination. There was nothing more to say. Everything she needed to know was now in her mind.

Satoru Gojo watched Makima as she ate a small cake, her eyes serene and her expression unchanging, as always. But he knew that behind that calm, there was much more. Tengen had warned him to be careful with her, that there was something about Makima that wasn't completely trustworthy. However, since he'd known her, a more personal connection had started to form, something unexpected.

At first, Gojo had kept a certain distance, watching her cautiously. Makima was different, and not just because of her Zenin lineage. There was an unsettling stillness in her, a calculating coldness in how she observed the world and people. Gojo, for his part, had always been aware of his own power, and few things worried him. But something in Tengen's warning had struck a chord with him.

However, as the days passed and they shared more moments like this, his perception was changing. Makima wasn't just a brilliant student; she also showed a side of devotion that Gojo hadn't expected to see from someone in the Zenin clan. Watching her there, quietly enjoying the cake while listening to every word he had explained about domains, Gojo felt something almost paternal.

"She'll be my full-time student in just over a year," he thought to himself. He could no longer see her just as a possible threat or someone to distrust. The time spent with her, even when most of it was in silence, had created a bond. He was starting to care for her, something that rarely happened with others. And that made him doubt.

While explaining domains, he had the option to hold back, not reveal too much, to keep that advantage he always reserved for himself. But in the end, he didn't. Halfway through his explanation, as she listened intently, Gojo had made an internal decision, almost without realizing it. He would teach her everything he knew.

And though he knew this could turn against him, that maybe Tengen was right, and there was more to Makima than he could see, he told himself, "If this backfires, well, so be it."

The smile on his face remained light and carefree as he watched her enjoy the cake, but inside, his resolve strengthened. He already saw her as his dear student, and as her teacher, he wouldn't deny her anything.