Twelve seconds: the number seared into Asou Akiya's memory.
The exact length of time Gojo Satoru's sunglasses slipped down his nose, revealing a flash of brilliant, terrifying Blue that bored straight into him.
Everything Akiya knew, everything he did not know, everything that could possibly be known was forcibly extracted and poured into Gojo Satoru's brain like raw data. As the very first classmate Gojo Satoru encountered, Akiya received the full, undivided attention of the Six Eyes.
"I'm Asou Akiya, one of your future classmates."
Akiya felt genuinely honored, and the smile he offered carried that exact sentiment.
Unfortunately, Gojo Satoru had never invested a single skill point into normal human interaction. What the Six Eyes read from him in that instant was a single, unmistakable fact:
[He knows who I am.]
Perfectly ordinary. Cursed spirits hunted him by the markers "white hair, blue eyes."
Sorcerers probably knew even more.
[Looks the same age as me.]
First glance: the boy's face. Hair and eyes a deep, saturated black.
But to the Six Eyes, no color on a human body was ever truly pure. If Satoru felt like it, he could count the red veins in the sclera or the split ends at the tips of the hair with crystal clarity, like he carried a 4K camera in his skull.
[Shorty.]
Appearance ranking: ignored.
Height of the specimen labeled "Asou Akiya": 172 cm.
More than half a head shorter than himself.
[Cursed energy volume: low.]
[No innate technique.]
[Only started physical training recently.]
Second glance: a faint sneer of contempt for the average Jujutsu High student rose in Satoru's chest.
Without the Six Eyes to compensate, a sorcerer with meager cursed energy could never bring even the most brilliant innate technique to its full potential; it would remain a pearl buried in dust. And the Six Eyes had already seen through this classmate: sorcerer talent abysmal, zero chance of ever touching special-grade, doubtful he could even claw his way to Grade 2.
[There are faint traces of "binding" on him. Not recent; been there a while.]
[Clan background?]
[Which family dumped their little tangerine here to study?]
[Probably a one-way binding vow set by clan confidentiality rules.]
[Wrist bandages. Multiple transverse cuts over the radial artery. Crude stitching. Life must have been rough in the tangerine house.]
[Cursed-energy circulation pattern is completely different from the Gojo clan's. It's rough, but practical. Fire?]
[Fire is passionate. His surface and interior don't match.]
Third glance. Gojo Satoru reached his own conclusion: as weak as the servants back home who watered flowers and pulled weeds.
"So weak. You'll probably die young if you stay in the jujutsu world," he said aloud, pushing his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose to cut the passive drain of the Six Eyes. He even considered himself polite for the warning.
"You seem weirdly happy to see me, so I'll be straight: I don't actually care if you live or die. There are tons of people weaker than me. One more or less makes no difference."
Asou Akiya's smile froze solid on his face.
If this attitude had been directed only at him, fine.
But if Ieri Shoko and Geto Suguru ever heard it…
Let me tell a joke: Gojo Satoru getting bullied on campus.
The instant the words left Satoru's mouth, Akiya brushed off the personal attack with practiced ease and answered mildly, "Gojo-kun is very straightforward. I can accept that. The rest of the class might not. We happen to have a once-in-a-millennium Cursed Spirit Manipulator and a girl who can heal others with the reversed cursed technique."
He lifted his gaze, as though he knew exactly how to hook Gojo Satoru's interest.
Their eyes met: one pair hidden behind dark lenses, the other wide open.
Between them stretched a pane of frosted glass; each could glimpse fragments of the other's truth.
"I'm your classmate and your official campus guide," Akiya said, stepping to Satoru's side and pointing the way ahead with calm composure. "Look forward to the rest of your time here."
It will definitely exceed your wildest imagination.
…
In a way, Gojo Satoru was his shield.
The moment he collected the new student, the invisible pressure that had weighed on Akiya since enrolling at Jujutsu High seemed to evaporate.
Yaga Masamichi watched with a sour taste in his mouth as Akiya cheerfully led Gojo Satoru into the classroom, laughing and chatting the whole way. Both wore the exact same black uniform (standard Tokyo Jujutsu High male cut, identical fabric and design), yet the aura each gave off was worlds apart. The black-haired boy carried himself with quiet restraint; the white-haired one radiated the unshakable confidence of the Three Great Families.
Members of the Great Families weren't supposed to attend Jujutsu High at all.
Gojo Satoru had simply decided he wanted to come here and play.
Students were not servants.
That was one of the unshakable lines Yaga Masamichi had drawn when he chose to become an educator.
"Akiya, take your seat."
"Understood." Akiya obediently returned to his desk, handed drinks to the classmates on his left and right, then slipped his own canned cola into the drawer as if he had no intention of drinking it just yet.
Ieri Shoko frowned. Was it that hot outside? Her tea bottle had grown warm in her hand.
Geto Suguru took a sip. This coffee was sweeter than he liked.
"New classmate?" he asked curiously.
Akiya nodded with a smile and told both of them, "I might have to change seats soon."
Shoko stared skeptically at the white-haired boy whose face she still couldn't fully see.
Wearing sunglasses indoors.
Seriously?
Yaga Masamichi assumed Gojo Satoru had never attended proper school and didn't know how introductions worked. "Gojo-kun, come up here and—"
Before the sentence finished, Satoru shot forward like a white-haired missile, whipping past Yaga's ear in a gust of wind. He planted himself at the lectern, snatched a piece of chalk, and scrawled his name across the blackboard in bold, aggressive strokes. With a triumphant smack of his palm, the board spider-webbed with hairline cracks, as if the sheer force of finally achieving his enrollment wish had to go somewhere.
Asou Akiya watched with perfect calm.
Ieri Shoko's jaw dropped.
Geto Suguru's hand jerked; coffee sloshed onto his sleeve.
"Yo, everybody!"
Years of binge-watching high-school anime had not been wasted on Gojo Satoru.
"I'm Gojo Satoru!"
"No relation to those stuffy old tangerines from the Three Great Families!"
"My technique is Limitless. It drags the mathematical paradox of Achilles (the infinite series that never quite converges) into reality. Only the bearer of the Six Eyes can actually use it."
"Hobbies: running away from home, gaming, anime. Favorite food: anything loaded with sugar. Hate: alcohol!"
"My life motto: I do whatever makes me happy!"
He had rehearsed those lines for an entire month. Behind the dark lenses, his gaze swept the room, brimming with expectation, mouth still running. "Oi, weird bangs guy—are you the Cursed Spirit Manipulation user?" Cursed-energy volume was leagues above Akiya's. "And mole-face girl, you know reversed cursed technique? I'm currently researching technique reversal with 'negative plus negative.' Once I nail that, next target is the 'negative times negative' needed for full reversal."
Weird bangs?
Suguru's carefully cultivated, pride-and-joy bangs?
The ones he styled every morning to keep perfectly flowing and charming?
The ones even his classmates had complimented for their character?
His expression shattered on the spot.
Mole-face girl?
Shoko's fingers tightened; the plastic bottle crumpled with a sad little crunch.
Do you even understand the premium value of a beauty mark?
This wasn't a mole; it was the spot all the girls agreed was her most captivating feature.
She would absolutely teach him reversed cursed technique.
Whether he could comprehend it would depend entirely on his own enlightenment.
Two people who took immense pride in their appearance locked eyes across the room, silently confirming their mutual disdain for Gojo Satoru. Then both turned to the boy sandwiched between them. Akiya covered his mouth with both hands, shoulders shaking, fighting for his life not to burst out laughing.
Pretending not to notice the murderous auras on either side, Akiya smoothly mediated. "Gojo-kun, they have names. Using them would sound a little more polite." He gently suggested, "You're a very mysterious person. Could we perhaps see the real you?" He gestured toward the sunglasses. "Take them off? It might help everyone warm up to you."
"No big deal." Satoru flicked the custom shades off with theatrical flair and lifted a face so flawlessly sculpted it looked unfair. Soft lips pressed into a smug line; he knew exactly how beautiful he was.
The legendary Six Eyes—praised by countless people as heaven's own gaze—conquered the vision of teacher and students alike.
"So bright…" Suguru muttered unconsciously. So clear.
"Wow… the eyes from the stories," Shoko whispered, unable to resist their beauty.
—If only that face didn't come with a mouth.
Five minutes later, the classroom settled back into something resembling normal.
Satoru dropped into the empty seat on the left with a carefree thud, spinning his sunglasses on one finger. He was now officially Geto Suguru's deskmate. Those inhuman sky-blue eyes exerted invisible pressure just by existing.
Suguru's shoulders tensed without permission.
Yaga Masamichi cleared his throat. "Everyone, introduce yourselves. Hobbies, too."
Akiya smiled sweetly. "Geto-kun, starting from the left—your turn."
Suguru forced himself into ice-cold composure and spoke without inflection. "Geto Suguru, fifteen years old, Grade 2 sorcerer. My technique is Cursed Spirit Manipulation, I like martial arts, my favorite food is zaru soba, my dream is to exorcise every cursed spirit so ordinary people never have to suffer because of them, and I dislike people who point fingers and judge."
From the seat beside him, Satoru commented with zero self-awareness about said finger-pointing, "What a boring dream."
A new vein throbbed visibly on Geto Suguru's forehead.
Satoru turned to Yaga Masamichi. "What grade am I?"
Yaga handed over the student ID. "Grade 1."
Satoru's eyes cooled a fraction. He said nothing, but the dissatisfaction was plain.
With Suguru now soaking up all the aggro, Asou Akiya could finally introduce himself without any lingering burden.
In truth, he had never intended to hide anything from Suguru; it was just that every time he heard Suguru's talent and his repeated claims of "we're the same kind," Akiya couldn't help thinking: wait until Gojo gets here. The real "same kind" will make him eat those words.
And indeed, Gojo Satoru had delivered.
Akiya spoke plainly. "Asou Akiya, fifteen years old. No innate technique. Grade 4 sorcerer."
Suguru whipped around, eyes wide with shock. No innate technique?
From everything he knew, sorcerers awakened their innate techniques between ages four and six. Those who didn't almost never chose the sorcerer path; they became safer "windows" or auxiliary supervisors instead.
Grade 4 sorcerer?
So even people without techniques could be graded and sent out to exorcise spirits.
Suguru couldn't help feeling a pang of regret for Akiya's lack of talent. He opened his mouth to offer some comfort—only to hear the white-haired newcomer on his left say, "Hurry up and say something I don't already know."
A strange softness settled over Akiya's face, as if Satoru had just paid him the highest compliment.
"My hobbies are reading—anything interesting will do. I like spicy food, but I'm fine with sweets too. There are lots of things I dislike, but I keep my distance from them so I don't waste energy on pointless resentment."
"Since Geto-kun mentioned dreams, I'll share mine as well."
"I want to live brilliantly and die freely."
"Or…"
"Earn enough money to buy my own little island, fall in love—properly, sweetly—before I turn thirty. Marriage is optional. The important part is knowing what it feels like to love someone and be loved back."
That was Asou Akiya's dream: simple on the surface, anything but ordinary.
"Before thirty?" Satoru cut in without mercy. "You that unconfident about getting a girlfriend?"
For once, Shoko agreed with him. "Akiya, girls must be all over you."
Suguru nodded firmly. "Same here."
Akiya ducked his head, suddenly bashful.
Only the Six Eyes caught the way his smile vanished in that instant, leaving the surface of a perfectly still, depthless pond.
Last came the only girl in the class. Ieri Shoko rattled off her introduction with crisp efficiency. "Ieri Shoko, born '89—so a few months older than Akiya and Suguru. I don't fight. I only know reversed cursed technique. Hobbies… can't say yet; you'll find out once we're closer. I hate watching people die. I hope we all stay healthy and live long lives."
No one pressed her about dreams.
Akiya, however, was willing to be that classmate. "Shoko, you still haven't said your dream."
Shoko thought about it, acting like she's spending precious brain cells. "To sleep until I wake up naturally."
That's exactly why they're called dreams: because they're hard to achieve.
The after-effect of the four first-years' self-introductions was that the moment the bell rang, Geto Suguru whipped out his phone, signed up for Mixi on the spot, and frantically created an interest group. In deliberate imitation of Akiya's naming style, he called it [Jujutsu High Mutual Aid Trio.]
He immediately dragged Asou Akiya and Ieri Shoko in and set up a shared topic.
Gojo Satoru: "???"
Gojo Satoru did not understand. He was deeply confused. Why were his three classmates refusing to talk face-to-face and instead typing on their phones?
That weird-bangs guy was definitely trash-talking him right in front of his face!
[Geto Suguru: I can't stand him. I really want to punch him once and teach him how to speak properly. He can't read the room at all.]
[Geto Suguru: Why is nobody replying?]
[Geto Suguru: I'm covering the screen with my hand. No way Gojo can see.]
[Asou Akiya: …]
[Ieri Shoko: …]
[Geto Suguru: Shoko, no matter how good-looking he is, don't let him fool you. Keeping Akiya as your deskmate is the only way to protect your mental and physical health for the next five years.]
[Ieri Shoko: Ah… I won't be fooled…]
How to describe it? It was hard to put into words.
...Ah yes, it's a massive headache.
Akiya and Shoko turned their heads in perfect sync.
At the far left of the front row, the white-haired divine child was glaring daggers at Suguru, who was still furiously typing.
For the first time in his lofty life, the arrogant, untouchable young master was experiencing the exquisite sting of being provoked by someone his own age.
And worst of all—he was being treated like empty air!
_____
Author's Note:
Everyone, take a guess: by the time these four are done, how many secret Mixi "interest groups" will they have created just to talk behind each other's backs?
— Yu Wei.
***
["It drags the mathematical paradox of Achilles (the infinite series that never quite converges) into reality"]
This line comes straight from Gojo Satoru's Baidu encyclopedia entry and is also official material from the Jujutsu Kaisen databook. I couldn't rephrase it without losing accuracy, so I left it verbatim.