The alarm went off at five in the morning.
For a few seconds, I simply lay there, staring at the ceiling. Yesterday's conversation with Gojo replayed in my head like a reel stuck on loop — curses, sorcerers, secret societies. Everything I thought I knew about this world had already been twisted upside down.
And today? I'd be leaving this apartment for good.
I got up, forcing the fatigue out of my body. Normally, I wouldn't have cared much for exercise beyond maintaining health, but things were different now. If I was truly a sorcerer, if I was truly walking into a world where monsters thrived on human misery, I couldn't rely only on cursed energy. My body had to be sharper, faster, stronger.
So I started my new routine.
Push-ups, squats, sit-ups. The basics. At first, I thought it would feel pointless given what cursed energy could do. But I reminded myself: cursed energy enhances what already exists. If the foundation is weak, no amount of energy will fix it. By the time my arms trembled and my lungs burned, I actually felt… good. Focused.
After a quick shower, I prepared breakfast. Eggs and rice, simple, nothing fancy. I didn't know what kind of schedule awaited me at Jujutsu High, but food was fuel. My suitcase sat by the door, neatly packed with clothes and a few personal items.
I ate slowly, letting the reality settle in: I was leaving my quiet life behind.
Just as I finished cleaning the dishes, I heard it.
Knock. Knock.
Then a voice that carried through the door with insufferable cheer.
"Rise and shine! Time to join the cool kids' club!"
I exhaled, grabbed my bag, and opened the door.
There he was. Satoru Gojo. White hair, blindfold, cocky grin. Like he had all the time in the world.
"You're early," I said flatly.
He raised a brow. "And here I thought you'd still be drooling on your pillow. You're already packed?"
"Unlike you, I'm efficient."
"Efficient?" he repeated with a laugh, leaning casually against the doorframe. "No, no, no — I call it boring."
I didn't bother to answer. Just stepped past him, bag slung on my shoulder. He followed with a whistle.
The car Gojo brought was black, sleek, tinted. It looked more like a government vehicle than anything belonging to someone as carefree as him.
We got in, and he immediately floored the accelerator. The car shot into traffic like a missile.
"You're insane," I muttered, tightening my seatbelt.
"Correction," Gojo said, casual as ever. "I'm talented. Big difference."
Weaving between cars at breakneck speed, he started humming. I let the silence stretch before finally asking, "So. Tell me about the jujutsu society. How does it really operate?"
His head tilted. "Straight to the boring stuff? Not even a 'So, Gojo-sensei, what's your skincare routine?' or 'Do those Six Eyes get tired after staring at yourself in the mirror all day?'"
I gave him a look. "…You're stalling."
He sighed dramatically, then leaned one hand on the wheel.
"Fine, fine. Lesson one. Jujutsu sorcerers aren't just some Japanese club. We're an entire society. Old, secret, powerful. Governments know we exist, cooperate with us when the supernatural gets too messy. But the general public? Totally in the dark. Just like in those cheesy comic books."
I nodded slowly. "And the higher-ups?"
Gojo's smile thinned, almost imperceptibly. "Ah, the higher-ups. Think of them as a council of old men who can't let go of their chairs. They control assignments, laws, punishments. They're obsessed with 'tradition.' Which basically means if it's new, they'll hate it."
"Typical bureaucracy," I muttered.
"Exactly!" Gojo laughed, pointing at me like I'd just won a prize. "Glad we're on the same wavelength already."
I leaned back slightly. "And the three major clans? You mentioned them."
"Ah, yes. The families." Gojo's voice carried an odd mix of derision and pride. "Gojo, Zenin, and Kamo. They've got bloodlines that trace back centuries. Special techniques passed down like family jewels. Political influence, traditions, all that fun stuff."
"You're from the Gojo clan."
"Bingo." He flashed a grin. "Six Eyes and Limitless. Part of the reason I'm the strongest."
I raised a brow. "Arrogant much?"
"Confident," he corrected, tapping his temple. "And justified."
I let him have that one.
"And the others?"
"Zenin clan has Ten Shadows Technique. Very rare, very powerful. Their problem is the family's filled with idiots clinging to outdated hierarchy." His tone darkened for a second, then lightened again. "And the Kamo? They're… let's say their experiments with blood manipulation haven't always been… ethical."
I caught the implication. "Human experimentation."
"Ding ding ding." He didn't even sound surprised at my guess.
The car roared forward, slicing through the highway like the world bent around it.
And just like that, my quiet life felt farther away than ever.