"Understanding" - Chapter 75

The door creaked open with a quiet metallic groan.

Ren didn't even bother turning his head. He already knew who it was—because ren sensed close to no cursed energy he knew it was her...

The familiar click of footsteps entered the room.

Then—thump.

A soft thud landed on the foot of his bed. Something light.

Then… silence.

No words. No snark. No lingering glance.

Just quick steps and the sound of the door closing.

Ren blinked.

"…She really just left," he muttered.

He glanced at the object: a thin black notebook. Plain. Leather-bound. The kind you'd find in a convenience store, not a cursed repository.

Ren sighed.

"Well, she got the right one," he said, dragging the notebook toward him. He flipped it open to a clean page, took a pen from his bedside tray, and clicked it with a soft snap.

At the top of the page, he wrote a single word.

"Understanding."

He underlined it.

Twice.

Then sat still, pen hovering above the page.

"…Yeah," he muttered, "this is it. Everything comes back to this word…"

Meanwhile…

Outside, Maki walked down the hallway, face red and expression tight.

"Idiot…" she muttered to herself. "Dumbass, walking around like nothing happened…"

Her grip tightened on her jacket.

"Stupid. Like Gojo-sensei. Always doing what they want. Always arguing. Always rushing in with zero self-preservation…"

She paused near the stairwell, looking away from the door she'd just exited.

"… Just wait till hand-to-hand training starts," she mumbled. "I'm going to beat you up—for being an idiot."

Her cheeks were still a little pink.

Back in the hospital room…

Ren's pen scratched across the page slowly. His handwriting was surprisingly neat when he was serious.

"Understanding. That's what I got from that fight. Not just a new maximum technique… not just another cursed technique added to the list… But actual understanding."

He paused, tapping the tip of the pen against the page.

"What does that mean, though?" he whispered aloud.

He stared at the ceiling, fingers curling loosely around the pen.

"It's hard to explain… But after I forced the Binding of Izanami into reality—after I willed that technique into existence—I understood. Not just how to use it, but what it was."

Ren's brow furrowed.

"I get the threads now. Red Stitch… It's not just a cursed technique. It's… like a language. A logic of connection. My cursed energy wants to bind. To link. To force form into everything it touches."

He blinked slowly.

"And somehow, I just knew that after it activated."

He looked back down at the notebook.

"Red Stitch = understanding of 'connection,' of 'binding.' It's not like water or fire. It's like a nervous system. A network."

He scribbled that thought down.

"And then there's copy… That cursed technique gives me a copy of someone else's CT only if Rika eats them. But it's not just mimicking moves—it's understanding how their cursed technique functions. Like… how metal reacts to cursed energy. Or how water flows when charged with CE."

He flipped to the next page and drew a rough circle with branching lines.

At the center: Copy

Branching off:

→ Flood Maw

→ Magnetic Decree

→ Red Stitch

Each had a note next to it:

Flood Maw—Fluidity, pressure mechanics, cursed flow channels

Magnetic Decree – Material density sensing, cursed magnetism logic

Red Stitch – Binding logic, cursed thread density, feedback anchoring

Ren stared at the diagram.

"It's like every cursed technique I copy adds a layer to how I view CE and the world around me. Like I'm slowly learning every programming language of this world's physics…"

He sat back, the realization creeping over him like a cold breeze.

"If I keep copying techniques… I might just become a genius at this stuff."

Not because of talent. Not because of effort.

But because of the understanding.

He narrowed his eyes.

"Knowledge stacking. That's what this is."

He flipped the page again.

New question.

"Could I keep building this understanding up forever?"

He tapped the notebook with his pen.

"If I copy more cursed techniques… I'm not just getting variety—I'm getting context."

His mind raced.

"How things interact. What works against what? How energy flows, disperses, and resists."

He scribbled in the margins.

"Understanding = Passive amplification of skill. More CTs = deeper insight."

He paused.

"Does that mean I could eventually reach a level where I just know how a CT works the moment I see it?"

That thought alone made him shiver.

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs.

"But it also raises another question…"

He flipped another page.

This one, he hesitated to write.

But then did anyway.

"Can I copy my own cursed technique?"

He stared at those words for a while.

It was absurd.

But not impossible.

"I mean… if Rika eating someone gives me their CT and understanding… what happens if she eats something from me?" he muttered.

"A piece of my hair? Blood? Skin?"

He cringed at the thought.

"It's disgusting… But if it works… Could I farm 'understanding'? Could I replicate Red Stitch again and again until I fully grasp it?"

He leaned back against the bedframe, head hitting the pillow.

"That's dumb," he muttered. "That's really fucking dumb."

A pause.

Then he smirked.

"But it might work."

Another page.

Experimental Theories

Feed Rika a piece of myself → Observe reaction

Monitor CE response.

Try to recopy Red Stitch.

Compare 'understanding' before and after.

He underlined "compare" three times.

"But even if that doesn't work…"

He looked down at his hand.

Faint red lines—barely visible—ran along the skin like phantom stitching.

"I've already rebuilt a cursed circuit. Crude… base level… but it works."

He reached for a small mirror from the bedside drawer and rolled up his sleeve. He focused cursed energy into his forearm.

Faint red light glowed beneath the surface, tracing a pattern.

"...Red Cursed Circuit, Level 1."

The name echoed in his head like a title card.

"Right now, it only boosts cursed technique control by… what? 1900%? the same circuit I made back with the first one every... the funny thing is now I don't need to use binding vows and Rika to make this. This is living proof that my understanding and control of 'Red Stitch' has grown…"

He tapped his temple.

"I'm aiming for control. Stability. Efficiency."

He smiled again.

By the time he looked up, a full hour had passed.

The sun outside had moved slightly.

His body still ached.

His mind buzzed.

He leaned back again, this time with a quiet sense of satisfaction.

The notebook lay open on his lap, filled with diagrams, notes, wild ideas, and theories that bordered on madness.

And at the very bottom of the page, he wrote:

"Understanding isn't strength. It's the blueprint to strength."

He closed the notebook with a soft thud.

"…Now I just need time," he whispered.

"And more tests."

His eyes closed.

His cursed energy pulsed.

And inside his body, faintly—

The red threads began to twist and move.

—