Jujutsu Kaisen: Cursed Times

A sharp gust of wind followed Shingen Genichi as he emerged from the shadows, sprinting down the dimly lit road toward the rapidly accelerating taxi. The vehicle swerved slightly, as if the driver had noticed him, and then picked up speed.

Shingen extended his hand, condensing a precise arrow of Cursed Energy. Aiming for the rear tires, he loosed the shot.

Boom!

But the projectile struck something unnatural. A layer of translucent, corrupted Cursed Energy shimmered over the taxi's surface like a living membrane, warping the air around it. The tires remained intact.

"A Cursed Spirit fused with the car?" Shingen muttered, narrowing his eyes.

He glanced ahead. Still too risky to use Extermination. Nitta Akari was inside, after all.

But he wasn't frustrated—instead, his lips curled into a cool, confident smile.

"As expected, you're arrogant," he muttered. "Now then… let's rescue Miss Nitta Akari."

"Time Wheel: Spin."

In an instant, everything stilled.

The buzzing streetlamp above flickered mid-blink. Moths hung suspended in midair. The rushing wind silenced. The taxi, mid-speed and mid-turn, froze like a glass sculpture.

Shingen blurred forward. In a flash, he reached the taxi, his body vibrating faintly from the pressure of extreme acceleration.

With a casual punch, he shattered the passenger window. The glass, suspended in his field, floated in slow motion. Reaching in, he carefully unlatched the door and hoisted the paralyzed Nitta Akari onto his shoulder like she weighed nothing.

With his other hand, he drew his cursed blade. In one swift motion, he drove it into the throat of the driver—a man twisted in a wide, mad grin.

Shingen leapt clear, and as he did—

The world resumed.

The moths fluttered. The hum of the streetlight returned. And the taxi—

BOOM.

The frozen vehicle suddenly burst back into chaotic motion, spinning out of control. With tires shrieking, it flipped, glass shattering and metal crumpling violently as it skidded across the road.

The air was filled with smoke, sparks, and the whine of destroyed metal.

Landing safely, Shingen gently set Nitta Akari down.

She gasped, clutching her chest and inhaling like someone who had been drowning. After a second, she managed to speak. "He… he had a Technique. Some kind of manipulation. I… I think he was controlling me."

Shingen calmly flicked the blood off his blade and stared toward the smoking wreck.

"Doesn't matter," he said quietly. "He's finished."

Nitta blinked, confused—until a clang rang out.

The car door exploded outward, and a blood-drenched man staggered free. It was him—the killer.

"That's him!" Nitta exclaimed, stepping back.

The Curse User, clutching his neck where Shingen had sliced, was half-alive and soaked in blood. His eyes were wild, and a black mist-like aura billowed from the wreck behind him.

A Cursed Spirit began to emerge—small, amorphous, yet heavy with pressure. Dozens of mouths opened and closed across its fluid body. Its size was modest, but the intensity of Cursed Energy was unmistakable.

It slithered toward the Curse User like liquid shadow, twisting into a long ribbon of black.

Then it entered his body.

Immediately, black ooze erupted from the man's wounds, especially from his neck. The cursed substance bubbled and spread like ink from an open wound, sealing his fatal injury.

The Curse User shuddered. His hands trembled. But he stood again—slowly.

Shingen didn't flinch.

"He's trying to overwrite death with that Cursed Spirit," Shingen muttered. "Clever... but you're only buying seconds."

Indeed, the Curse User's healing was only surface-level. His life still hung by a thread. But inside his mind, panic spiraled.

'I should be dead! I was already dying!'

His fury drowned out the pain. Hatred burned in his gut.

"DAMN YOU!!!" he howled, face twisting.

He glared at Shingen Genichi—this calm, unshaken boy who had appeared out of nowhere and destroyed everything in seconds.

Rage overtook logic. The man's desire to inflict suffering on the one who had humiliated him consumed what was left of his rationality.

Shingen, meanwhile, was already walking forward with his sword drawn, composed.

Nitta glanced at him. "If he starts again in public—!"

Shingen nodded. "Understood. I'll end it now."

He walked toward the Curse User like he had all the time in the world.

Gojo-sensei's words echoed in his mind.

'"Genichi, your Technique is the bane of Curse Users. They can't heal. And they can't react to you."'

'"As long as they're not using a Domain or a trap-based Technique, you'll win."'

True. Curse Users were still human. Human limits. Human reactions. Human fragility.

"Let's test that again," Shingen said softly, raising his fingers.

The Curse User roared in anger, manifesting a spike of dense, blackened Cursed Energy. He hurled it toward Shingen—

"Time Wheel - Reverse."

The projectile disintegrated midair.

Gone, the attack just disappeared like it never happened

The man froze in horror. "Wh… what did you do?!"

Shingen smiled. "You don't get a second try."

Before the man could respond, Shingen vanished.

Time Null.

By the time the man saw him again, Shingen was already beside him.

A black flash of Cursed Energy exploded through his chest—

WHAM.

Shingen's fist buried into his heart, followed by a second blow to the gut. Internal organs ruptured. Blood gushed from the Curse User's lips, mixed with bile and fragments.

He collapsed to his knees, body failing.

The Cursed Spirit inside him began to panic—unraveling.

"No…" the Curse User muttered. "No...I'm not… done…"

But his voice faded.

In a final, desperate act, he released the Cursed Spirit's seal. Black flesh exploded from his back, expanding and twisting.

The Curse User was dead.

What remained was the fleshy tumor-like Curse, a last breath of hatred.

Shingen calmly switched his grip, transferring the blade to his right hand.

He activated Time Wheel again.

Then it was over.

One moment the monster surged.

The next, it collapsed in chunks to the pavement—sliced so fast, not even sound had time to respond.

Nitta Akari blinked. "...Wh—what?"

One second ago, it was alive.

Now, the fight was done.

She looked at Shingen Genichi, who stood there, breathing calmly, casually beckoning her over to help clean up the scene.

"His speed," she whispered, "His movement is so fast. It's more like... teleportation…"

With her help, Shingen rapidly set up a cover story. The violent crash from earlier had drawn attention, but they arrived just in time to fabricate the scene.

By the time reinforcements arrived, everything would look like a tragic late-night car accident—an illusion created by a boy who could move faster than time itself.

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Word Count:1,088