Curse Return: Demon Void Girl Doesn't Want to Be a Weakling

Itachi's expression fell, he sighed, and said helplessly, "Alright, alright, I agree."

Then he looked at Mashiro's clothes, which had several holes in them, and said, "Mashiro-nee, you haven't changed your clothes yet."

"Who do you think did this?"

"Sorry, sorry, how's Saitama doing?"

"It's resolved." She stood up. "The near-Special Grade has been eliminated. You should focus on your training now."

Itadori opened his mouth. "Quasi-Special Grade? Mashiro-nee has become this powerful already?"

He can't be left behind!

Gojo Satoru retrieved his sunglasses from the back of the chair and wiped the lenses with the corner of his shirt.

"While the higher-ups still think Hisahito's body is being disposed of by Glass, I'll take him to the underground training grounds to familiarize him with the environment. Mashiro-chan, go back and change your clothes."

He paused, his gaze lingering behind his sunglasses on the tear in her clothes. "Take a shower while you're at it."

"You don't need to tell me."

"Haha, how scary." Gojo Satoru put his sunglasses back on his nose and waved to Itadori. "Let's go, Yuujin. The underground training ground is pretty good. Although it doesn't have windows, it has a bed and a refrigerator. It's better than your sister's empty apartment."

“I heard you,” Mashiro said.

"I'm just telling you this."

Itadori grinned and followed Gojo Satoru out of the treatment room.

The footsteps in the corridor gradually subsided. Mashiro stood there for a moment before turning to Shoko; only now did she have a chance to speak properly.

“Shoko-senpai.”

"Ok?"

"Thank you."

“Repairing the heart isn’t difficult, and I didn’t do much.” Shoko leaned against the treatment table and took off her gloves. “He woke up on his own.”

"Ah."

“I saw your reaction when he moved his finger after you rushed back from Saitama.” Shoko threw her disposable gloves into the trash can. “The Reversal Technique can repair all physical damage, but resurrection is something that no technique can guarantee. You were certain he would wake up before he even woke up.”

Mashiro did not answer.

“I wouldn’t call it intuition.” Shoko stood up, took a new blanket from the cabinet, folded it, and put it back in its place. “You and your brother are not normal people.”

Mashiro walked towards the door, paused for a moment with her hand on the doorknob, and said, "Anyway, thank you."

"You're welcome." Shoko didn't look up. "Just don't bang on the door next time you come."

Mashiro closed the door and walked down the corridor toward the exit.

As I passed the nurses' station, there was a small, unfamiliar potted plant on the windowsill, its leaves glossy under the corridor lights.

Kugizaki's hospital room is on the second floor.

When Mashiro pushed open the door, Kugizaki was awake, leaning against the bed with a bandage wrapped around his head and a small section of the straps securing his ribs showing from under his hospital gown.

Fu Hei wasn't there. On the bedside table were an opened bag of fruit candies and a magazine that hadn't been turned more than a few pages.

When Kugizaki saw her, he paused, his water glass still in his hand.

Her gaze first swept over the tear in Zhenbai's clothes, then landed on her face, which was colder than usual.

After a few seconds of silence, Kugizaki put down his cup. "...You came all the way back from Saitama?"

"Ah."

"Where is the Japanese knotweed?"

Faced with this answer, Mashiro remained silent for a while, thinking about how to respond.

After all, they had to keep Yuhito's existence a secret from them, but they didn't want to tell him directly that he was dead.

Wouldn't that be lying?

But Kugizaki interpreted her silence as something else entirely.

She took a deep breath, trying to suppress a sob, and said, "I understand."

What did you find out?

Mashiro twitched the corner of her mouth. Oh well, it's better that she misunderstood.

When Hisahito comes back, she'll say you misunderstood.

Regarding non-stick pans.

Kugizaki lowered his head, his fingers gripping the edge of the bed sheet. "I'm sorry, Mashiro, I..."

She stopped.

Because Mashiro picked out a yellow candy from the bag of fruit candies on the bedside table, unwrapped it, and handed it to her.

Kugizaki looked at the candy, then at Mashiro.

“Lemon flavored,” Mashiro said, “is better than strawberry.”

Kugizaki took the candy but didn't eat it. She held it tightly in her palm, her nails digging into the candy wrapper, making a very fine, crisp sound.

"Call me next time you have a mission," she said, her tone no longer somber, returning to her usual Nobara Kugizaki self. "Once this is demolished, I'm going to become stronger."

Mashiro nodded.

Kugizaki lowered his head, repeatedly rubbing his thumb against the lemon candy he hadn't had a chance to eat yet.

The wrinkles on the candy wrapper were smoothed out and crumpled up again. Then she unwrapped the candy, stuffed it into her mouth, and chewed it hard twice.

"...It's too sour."

"Lemon candy is sour by nature."

Kugizaki covered his eyes, gently rubbing them with the back of his hand, and said in a muffled voice, "Mmm."

Mashiro stood up, walked to the door, then turned back and said, "Take good care of your injuries. I'll come back to check on your progress once you've become stronger."

"Just you wait." Kugizaki's voice came from between his fingers, firm in its tone, "Don't hold back when the time comes."

“I understand,” Mashiro said, opening the door. “I will make you stronger.”

After leaving the vocational college, Mashiro didn't go straight home.

She walked to the vending machine next to the zebra crossing outside the main entrance and stared at the row of coffee cans for a long time.

The latte is on the top layer, the second one from the right, the one Nanami bought for her last time.

She inserted two coins, pressed the button, bent down, and took the can out of the spit. With a hiss, she pulled the tab, and a wisp of white steam rose from the can.

She leaned against the vending machine and took a small sip, gradually getting used to the bittersweet taste.

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

It's Nanami Kento's LINE account, three messages in a row.

"Seven Seas": The automatic dispatching instructions for the Juvenile Academy missions are located in the server room on the third floor of the Administrative Office. The server room's entry and exit records show that no one swiped their card during the dispatching period.

"Seven Seas": The command authority was issued from a backup terminal. The login account belonged to an employee who left the company two years ago. The account was activated twelve hours before the task was assigned and immediately deactivated after the assignment was completed.

"Nanami": The issuance record for Saitama's emergency missions is from the same time period as the terminal. The Kyoto meeting convening notice was issued by the head of the administrative section, who was on sick leave the day before, and the authority was temporarily delegated to the deputy head. The deputy head said that he signed it on behalf of the head according to procedure, and the agenda documents were prepared in advance by the head of the administrative section.

Mashiro looked at the three messages, put the coffee can aside, and hovered her thumb above the screen for a moment.

"Mashiro": I understand. What's the section chief's name?

"Nanami": Shigeru Sakakibara. 62 years old, 21 years in the administrative department, no professional qualifications, clerical work. He took sick leave three days ago due to high blood pressure; his medical records are on file at St. Luke's International Hospital.

"Nanami": There's another detail. The medical record was opened at 9 a.m. that day, but the leave request email was sent at 11 p.m. the night before.

"Mashiro": I understand.

Mashiro stared at the last message Nanami sent.

At 11 p.m. the night before, several hours before she received Saitama's urgent mission, and before entering the mission into the Juvenile Academy system.

The section chief already knew he would need a medical record the next day; it wasn't a last-minute arrangement, he was the first link in the entire plan.

Just as Mashiro was about to exit the chat, another message came in.

"Nanami": Be careful.

She smiled slightly, replied with an "Mm," and then forwarded the chat history to Gojo Satoru.

Mashiro finished the rest of her coffee in one go, threw the empty can into the trash can, and turned to walk back to her apartment.

When she pushed open the apartment door, the entryway was still exactly as it had been when she hurriedly left yesterday morning.

On the shoe cabinet was an empty lunchbox that Tiger Tendon had delivered the day before yesterday, its lid tilted at an angle, revealing a corner of dried egg roll crumbs.

She bent down to pick up the lunchbox, went into the kitchen, and turned on the tap. Hot water sprayed onto the inside of the lunchbox, creating steam. She had squeezed out too much dish soap, and the foam was everywhere.

She stared at the foam for a while, then turned off the water, wiped the foam off her wrist with the back of her hand, and turned the tap back on to rinse it clean.

She dried the lunchbox and put it in the cupboard. She stood against the counter for a moment, then opened the refrigerator, took out a bottle of water, unscrewed it, and drank half of it.

There was still half a box of strawberries left in the refrigerator. They were brought over by Tiger Knott when he cooked last time. The leaves were a little wilted, but they weren't spoiled yet. She picked one up and took a bite.

Sweet.

There will be no sukiyaki tonight, no bento boxes tomorrow, and no doorbell at 7 a.m. the day after tomorrow.

She had been living alone for a long time, and had only lived in this apartment for less than a week, but she had gotten used to the doorbell during the days when Huzhang brought her breakfast every morning.

There's a habit of a boy standing at the door saying, "I'm having egg rolls today, hand over the lunchbox, and we'll leave you dinner later."

She had only been in the habit for a week, and she didn't know how many days it would take to break it back.

Hmm, it seems like it doesn't need to be changed?

She suddenly realized that since the sister school exchange program was only going to last a few days, she could just wait a few days.

Very insightful.

My phone vibrated on the coffee table; it was a reply from Gojo Satoru.

"Gojo Satoru": I received the name. He was Sakakibara's former section chief who was promoted to the director's department two years ago. He was one of the three names I mentioned before.

"Gojo Satoru": Yujin has been settled in. The underground training room has been cleaned up. I will personally take care of him during this period.