The 5th Special Grade | Jujutsu Kaisen

The first days of October were marked by Furōkawa's grueling training regimen. He pushed his body and cursed energy to its limits, knowing that Sigrun, the final Valkyrie, would demand everything from him. Morning to night, his focus was singular: sharpen his skills, deepen his understanding of cursed energy, and refine his connection to Onamazu and all of its forms.

Every day, he practiced Black Flash sequences, trying to recreate the precision and synchronicity that had shifted his power against Gunnr. His efforts were never successful, but each failure only drove him harder. By mid-October, his progress was evident. His cursed energy control had become instinctual, his movements faster and more deliberate. Yet, he knew there was still a massive gap between his current strength and what he would need to face Sigrun.

On an unassuming cold afternoon, Furōkawa was midway through a punishing sparring session against cursed puppets he had conjured with Hrist and Mist's bracelets, when he felt a sudden, overwhelming presence approach. The air shimmered with intense cursed energy, and before Furōkawa could turn around, a familiar voice rang out.

"Well, look at you!"

Satoru Gojo stood a few paces away, arms crossed, his trademark grin plastered on his face. He wasn't wearing his usual uniform but rather a casual white shirt, black pants, and a loose jacket. For once, his iconic blindfold was absent, his piercing blue eyes glimmering with interest.

Furōkawa, though slightly winded from his session, smirked. "Gojo. Didn't expect to see you here."

"I had to come check on you," Gojo said, his tone light but curious. "Rumor has it, you've been leveling up like crazy. And—" he gestured to the earring glinting in Furōkawa's ear, "—you've got some fancy new jewelry. Not bad, Furō."

Furōkawa rolled his eyes, wiping sweat from his brow. "It's not just jewelry. This earring's a part of why I'm still standing."

Gojo's grin widened. "I know, I know. It's just funny seeing you accessorize. But seriously…" He walked closer, his expression softening slightly. "You've grown. A lot. I can see it in the pit of your stomach."

Emilia, standing a few feet away, watched the interaction with a sour expression. Though she respected Gojo's strength, his cocky and rather childish demeanor grated on her. She muttered under her breath, "Of course, he's here to make everything a spectacle."

Gojo turned his head slightly, catching her words. "Aw, Emilia, don't look at me like that. I'm not here to ruin anything." He winked, earning an eye-roll from her.

Furōkawa took a deep breath, sizing up Gojo. There was no denying the aura of power that surrounded him, even when he was relaxed. But Furōkawa felt different now—stronger, more confident. This was the perfect chance to test himself.

"Spar with me Gojo," Furōkawa demanding, stepping forward, Onamazu at his side.

Gojo raised an eyebrow, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his face before he burst into laughter. "You're serious? How funny I guessed this."

Furōkawa didn't flinch. "Yeah. I want to see how far I've come. You said you wouldn't hold back when we fought again. Let's see if I can keep up."

Gojo tilted his head, considering the challenge. Then his grin returned, sharper and more dangerous. "Alright, Furō. You asked for it. I won't hold back, but don't come crying to me when you regret it."

He removed his jacket, tossing it aside, and cracked his knuckles. "Also, I ditched the uniform today. I anticipated you'd want to fight me, and I didn't want it ruined since you're one of the few who can bypass my Infinity."

The moment Gojo raised his hand, Furōkawa moved. Onamazu gleamed as Furō closed the distance in a blur, his cursed energy surging. He swung at Gojo's midsection with all his might, his blade humming with power.

Gojo sidestepped effortlessly, his movements fluid and effortless. "Nice try," he quipped, leaning just far enough to avoid a follow-up slash.

Furōkawa pressed harder, launching a series of rapid strikes. His cursed energy crackled, each attack sharper and more calculated than the last. Onamazu's edge left faint gashes in the ground as it barely missed its mark.

For a moment, Furōkawa thought he saw an opening and lunged, but Gojo vanished in a blur, reappearing behind him. "Too slow," Gojo said, delivering a light tap to Furōkawa's shoulder that sent him skidding across the training field.

Furōkawa recovered quickly, his grip on Onamazu tightening. "I'm just getting started."

His cursed energy flared again as he placed his right hand on the ground, summoning Spears of Putrefaction, blackened spears erupting from the ground and converging on Gojo from all directions. Gojo glanced at the incoming attack, his expression shifting slightly as he raised a hand.

"Reversal: Red."

A powerful burst of cursed energy erupted outward, obliterating the spears before they could touch him. The force sent Furōkawa sliding back again, but he didn't falter. Instead, he narrowed his focus, channeling every ounce of his cursed energy into his next move.

Furōkawa dashed forward, closing the distance once more. This time, he aimed for Gojo's legs, feinting low before slashing upward. The unexpected angle caught Gojo slightly off-guard, the blade grazing his arm. A thin line of blood appeared, followed by instant smoke rising off his skin signaling a reverse cursed technique in use.

Gojo looked at the scratch, blinking in mock surprise. "Oh? You actually got me." He grinned. "Not bad, Furō."

But before Furōkawa could press his advantage, Gojo's expression shifted, his grin taking on a sharper edge. "My turn."

Gojo moved faster than Furōkawa could track. In an instant, Gojo's fist was enveloped in a swirling sphere of cursed energy. "Cursed Technique: Blue."

Furō's eyes widened as he realized the world of pain he was about to be forced to endure. The punch connected squarely with Furōkawa's midsection, the compressed force of Blue detonating on impact. The air left Furōkawa's lungs in an instant, his pupils rolling to the back of his head, and his body crumpled from the sheer power of the strike. He staggered back, coughing violently before falling to one knee and vomiting.

Emilia rushed forward but stopped short, recognizing the sparring session for what it was. Her hands clenched into fists, her disdain for Gojo's flippant attitude at odds with the respect she couldn't deny.

Gojo stepped back, brushing imaginary dust off his hands. "You've got good instincts, Furō. Better than most. But you're still not there yet."

Furōkawa wiped his mouth, shakily rising to his feet. His breathing was labored, and his body ached from the impact, but he forced himself to stand tall.

Gojo nodded approvingly. "That's the spirit. Don't let one hit keep you down. You're tough, Furō. A lot tougher than when I last fought you."

Furōkawa glanced at him, sweat dripping down his face. "Thanks… I think."

Gojo smirked. "No need to thank me. This is all you. You've come a long way, and you've got something that most sorcerers don't: the guts to keep fighting, no matter how outclassed you are."

He turned to leave, throwing his jacket over his shoulder. "Keep training. The next time we spar, I want to see what you've learned. Oh, and…" He paused, glancing over his shoulder with a rare, genuine expression. "I'm proud of you, Furō. You've done well."

With that, Gojo threw on his opaque shades, leaving Furōkawa and Emilia in silence.

Emilia finally broke the quiet, her tone a mix of exasperation and admiration. "He's insufferable."

Furōkawa chuckled weakly. "Yeah… but he's not wrong."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Furōkawa turned back to his training field, his resolve stronger than ever.