The training grounds were drenched in morning fog when Yaga summoned them.
"You're not invincible," he said, arms crossed, gaze sharp. "Not yet. You failed once. If you don't want it to happen again, it's time to train like your lives depend on it."
They did.
---
Kishibe
He faced the wood dummy first, blade in hand, sweat already trickling down his jaw. He moved with mechanical precision—slash, pivot, feint, sever. But Yaga wasn't satisfied.
"You rely too much on instinct," Yaga said. "You cut deep, but you don't always cut smart."
Kishibe didn't argue. He just kept cutting.
Later, Yaga called in an instructor to pressure him—an older grade 1 sorcerer whose barrier techniques disrupted cursed energy flow.
"Think you can Sever what's blocked?" the man taunted.
Kishibe ground his teeth. Then, with practiced control, he waited. A flicker of cursed energy revealed a blind spot—and he struck. This time, he didn't just unravel energy. He severed the technique's anchor point.
The instructor hit the ground, stunned.
"You're learning," Yaga muttered.
---
Geto
He trained with Shoko nearby, controlling cursed spirits until they strained against his commands. His brow furrowed in concentration.
"You keep collecting them," she said softly, "but you don't trust them. You grip too tight. You think they'll betray you."
"They will. If I let them."
But one night, after hours alone in the summoning chamber, Geto stopped trying to command with fear. Instead, he talked to the spirits.
Not like friends.
But like soldiers.
That shift made all the difference. His cursed spirit manipulation grew smoother, more responsive. Shoko noticed.
"You sound more like a leader now."
Geto just nodded.
---
Gojo
The Six Eyes burned as he pushed his body and technique to the limit. Even he couldn't coast on talent forever. He practiced blindfolded sparring until his clothes were torn and his chest heaved.
Yaga threw him into blind terrain and cursed field simulations, his senses robbed and perception tricked. "You act like you always have the edge," he warned. "Sooner or later, you won't."
Gojo laughed. "That's the point of training, right?"
But at night, alone in the dorm, he stared at the ceiling. The girl's face from the last mission flickered behind his eyes.
He didn't laugh then.
---
Later That Week
The trio reconvened at dusk, each more worn, scarred, and sharper than before. The training yard echoed with the clash of their mock battles.
Gojo challenged Kishibe to speed rounds. Kishibe nearly sliced through his jacket.
Geto summoned a spirit Kishibe had never seen before. Its eyes shimmered with eerie respect.
They fought each other harder than they fought curses.
Not because they hated each other.
But because they knew the world wouldn't wait.
Yaga watched from afar, arms folded.
They were still young.
But fire—real fire—was being forged under pressure.