NOVEL NEXT Chapter 2: cursed energy
In his first week, Naoya began learning to control his cursed energy—a fundamental thing possessed by nearly everyone in this world, except for a few rare exceptions. In the original series, Itadori refined their control by watching movies while using a cursed doll, but it was 1991. The selection of decent films was limited by his standards, and more importantly, no one had even considered using TV for cursed energy training yet. Televisions were still in development, and as far as Naoya knew, the idea simply hadn't crossed anyone's mind.
"Time to watch movies, I guess," Naoya muttered, scratching his head.
Three weeks passed.
Naoya spent most of that time lounging around, watching movies. Unlike Itadori, he didn't have access to a cursed corpse that would attack him if his cursed energy wavered. Instead, he requested something—anything—that would react to cursed energy.
What they gave him was a dull, ugly knife. Useless at first glance, but when infused with cursed energy, the blade extended slightly and became sharper. It was far from ideal, but it was better than nothing. Surprisingly, the fusion of his soul with Naoya Zenin's seemed to grant him a deeper, more instinctual understanding of cursed energy. His talent had significantly improved, allowing him to grasp the basics far faster than expected.
Now, he could regulate his cursed energy at will. More importantly, he had reached a point where he could finally activate his cursed technique.
—
"Watching TV the whole day, huh?" Naobito muttered, stroking his mustache as he listened to the servant's report. His tone was unreadable, a mixture of amusement and disappointment.
The head of the Zenin clan took a slow sip of sake, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. "That brat better not think he can coast by on talent alone… If he's just lazing around, I'll beat some discipline into him myself."
Despite his grumbling, a part of him was intrigued. If Naoya had truly made progress despite what seemed like idleness, then perhaps there was something worth paying attention to.
"Tell him to come see me," Naobito ordered, setting his cup down with a decisive clink.
The servant bowed before swiftly leaving to relay the message.
...
Naoya sat cross-legged on a cushion, his gaze fixed on the sliding doors ahead. He had expected this sooner or later. A summons from a servant meant only one thing—his father wanted to see him.
The doors slid open with a quiet whoosh, revealing Naobito lounging at the head of the room, a cup of sake in hand. His sharp, narrowed eyes fixated on Naoya, scrutinizing him with that usual mix of indifference and judgment.
"So," Naobito began, swirling the liquid in his cup, "what exactly have you been doing these past three weeks?" His voice was slow, measured, carrying that familiar slur—but Naoya could hear the underlying edge, the unspoken don't waste my time.
Naoya smirked slightly, leaning forward, resting his chin on his fist. "Watching movies," he said, his tone casual, almost lazy.
The silence that followed was heavy.
Naobito blinked once, then exhaled through his nose, setting his cup down with a dull clink. His fingers drummed against the table, his expression unreadable.
"…Watching movies," he repeated, as if tasting the words, rolling them around in his mind. Then, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "You must think you're real clever, huh, boy?"
Naoya's smirk widened just a fraction. "I am clever."
Naobito let out a quiet chuckle, though there was no warmth in it. He set his cup down with a dull clink, his sharp eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
"Then tell me, genius, what have you actually gained from rotting your brain in front of a screen?"
Naoya's fingers brushed against the dull knife at his side, a smirk playing on his lips.
"More than you think."
Without waiting for permission, he lifted the knife and let his cursed energy flow into it. The once unimpressive blade shimmered, elongating as its edge sharpened to a dangerous gleam. The air around it crackled subtly, a visible display of control.
Naobito's eyes flickered—not with surprise, but with interest. He leaned forward slightly, watching as Naoya effortlessly adjusted the flow of cursed energy, making the blade shift in size at will. The precision wasn't something a beginner should have achieved in just three weeks.
For the briefest moment, there was a glimmer of shock in Naobito's expression.
Then, just as quickly, it was gone.
He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his beard. "Hmph," he muttered, feigning indifference. "So, you did learn something useful."
Naoya twirled the enhanced knife between his fingers before releasing his cursed energy, returning it to its dull state. He met Naobito's gaze, unbothered. "Told you."
Naobito studied him in silence for a moment before smirking. "Not bad." He reached for his sake cup again, taking a slow sip. "But don't think for a second that makes you strong. If this is all you've got, you're still nothing but a brat playing with a toy."
Naoya didn't react outwardly, but internally, he scoffed. As if I'd stop here.
The real training was only beginning.
…
After Naoya left, Naobito sat in silence, lost in thought. He tapped his fingers against the table, swirling the last bit of sake in his cup.
"Mastering cursed energy control while watching movies?" he muttered to himself, an amused yet intrigued glint in his eyes.