Gojo Satoru was not the type to swallow his feelings. Just as he was about to explode, Asou Akiya seized control of the situation.
[Asou Akiya: Gojo-kun is better-looking than me and Geto, right?]
[Ieri Shoko: ?]
[Ieri Shoko: In terms of looks… well.]
Shoko caught Akiya's hint and reluctantly admitted that, yes, the white-haired, blue-eyed tall boy was stunning, especially when his mouth was shut.
[Geto Suguru: Akiya, you're not Shoko. No matter how pretty he is, he's still a guy. We can't be that shallow.]
[Asou Akiya: Huh? So if he were a girl it would be okay?]
[Geto Suguru: …He can't exactly change his gender.]
[Asou Akiya: Our world has cursed spirits. Open your mind a little; who knows, it might be possible?]
[Geto Suguru: For real? I've never seen a spirit like that!]
[Ieri Shoko: You two just casually dropped something insane.]
[Asou Akiya: Shoko, don't you want to try?]
[Ieri Shoko: Tempted. Suguru, the second you catch that kind of spirit, tell me and Akiya immediately.]
[Geto Suguru: …Fine.]
Gojo Satoru forgot why he was angry in the first place. He was too stunned by the chat's new direction.
In the span of a few minutes, the Mixi conversation had veered straight into the feasibility of gender-swap cursed spirits.
…That actually sounded kind of awesome.
So many uses for Cursed Spirit Manipulation!
Then he reconsidered: these guys had taste after all. Of course no one was denying his looks. He was obviously the best-looking guy in the class. And even if he became a girl… he'd be a world-class beauty!
Right after that, the Six Eyes locked onto the screens of Suguru, Akiya, and Shoko.
[Asou Akiya: The reason we're wary of Gojo-kun is simply that he arrived late and missed the bonding period. No matter what he says, he hasn't once cursed. A little arrogance is understandable. If I had his family and his strength, I might look down my nose at you guys too.]
Shoko instantly pictured Akiya looking down his nose at people and nearly laughed. Then Suguru delivered a critical hit.
[Geto Suguru: Akiya, when I stand up I can see the top of your head, so…]
[Geto Suguru: Sorry! I was just stating facts, please forgive me!]
[Asou Akiya: Wow, Suguru, you maxed out aggression not only toward the new guy but toward me too.]
[Geto Suguru: Friendly fire by accident.]
[Asou Akiya: It's fine, I forgive you this once. Next time, no mercy.]
Gojo Satoru was shocked.
Weird-bangs actually apologized.
Not just in text, either. Satoru watched with his own eyes as Suguru bowed his head toward Akiya, palms pressed together in sincere apology. Never mind the historical records about the limitless potential of Cursed Spirit Manipulators; a Grade 2 sorcerer feeling genuine remorse for accidentally mocking a classmate's height and treating him as an equal despite the power gap was simply unheard of!
Hold on.
You were supposed to show up a few days early for enrollment?
Nobody told him that!
[Geto Suguru: As expected of Akiya, so magnanimous. I can share my secret to growing taller with you.]
[Asou Akiya: Basketball's out. I can't match your strength.]
[Geto Suguru: …That's actually terrifying.]
[Ieri Shoko: Got called out again? Suguru, are you sure you're okay? In my opinion Akiya's height is perfectly normal. The abnormal ones are you and Gojo-kun—over 180 cm at fifteen. I can't imagine how tall you'll be as adults.]
[Geto Suguru: Being too tall has its own troubles. I keep banging my head on shop signs. Everyone has their burdens.]
[Asou Akiya: Stop. Topic ends here.]
[Ieri Shoko: Class is starting.]
Gojo Satoru's face instantly switched to ice as he stared at the blackboard.
Jujutsu High had no fixed timetable.
Lessons were decided entirely by the homeroom teacher. There were no permanent Japanese, math, or any other subject teachers.
Third period was still Yaga Masamichi. The new students couldn't hide their disappointment. Yaga carried no lesson plan, only the same black suit that screamed yakuza boss, now accessorized with a whistle around his neck.
The moment Akiya and Suguru spotted the whistle, they knew: PE. No—Jujutsu High's version of physical combat training.
Shoko didn't worry. Yaga-sensei never trained girls to death.
Only Gojo Satoru remained completely detached, neither understanding nor bothering to ask. Pride radiated off him like heat haze.
"While you're students here, you'll cover some regular high-school basics alongside sorcery," Yaga announced from the doorway, hand still on the traditional sliding wooden door. The entire building was old wood; every push and pull came with a loud creak.
He looked pointedly at Gojo Satoru to manage expectations. "But I don't teach those. The 'windows' and auxiliary supervisors handle them. Today is physical training. I'm assessing your stamina. After this, you're free for lunch break."
Yaga strode out first. "Follow me to the field."
Suguru rose confidently, certain of his physical prowess, but paused in the doorway when Akiya didn't immediately follow.
Shoko trailed behind him, yawning. "Akiya takes his responsibilities too seriously."
Suguru smiled. "With him around, Yaga-sensei must save a lot of headaches."
Inside the empty classroom, Gojo Satoru stayed seated, utterly unbothered by the fact that no one had spoken to him. Those jewel-like Six Eyes—on display for an entire period—were cold and hard as sapphire, repelling any approach.
Asou Akiya watched the white-haired boy who was, without realizing it, being left out.
He could dazzle the entire world yet had no idea how to connect with people.
"Gojo-kun, we're about to run. Did you break in your new shoes for a day or two beforehand?"
"…?"
"The new Jujutsu High shoes always blister the heels."
Akiya pulled a pack of fresh heel cushions from his bag, stepped around Suguru's empty desk, and offered them.
"Here."
Gojo Satoru stared at the offering for several long seconds, then abruptly stood and strode out of the classroom without taking them.
From the day he was born, surrounded by bowing retainers and fawning elders, the first thing he had ever learned was how to refuse. Accepting kindness from a stranger, especially a classmate, had never been part of the curriculum.
If it had been weird-bangs offering, he might have considered it. A Cursed Spirit Manipulator had to be common-born; the old tangerines would never have let someone like that slip through their intelligence net.
But this shorty…
Unknown background. Words that sounded like help, but smelled like flattery from yet another clan-sent fruit.
[Stay the hell away from me.]
Silence is the sharpest blade; coldness the deepest frost.
Akiya stood frozen for a moment, stung. When the feeling passed, he forced the smile back onto his face (alone now, no audience to fool). He tucked the heel cushions away, pulled out two adhesive bandages instead, hesitated, then slipped them into his pocket anyway. With Shoko around, no one would need his amateur first-aid.
The field of youth is forever ruled by one word: run.
At Yaga's whistle, the boys were sentenced to fifty laps, the lone girl to twenty. The four first-years took off, turning the track into a battlefield of pride and lapping rights.
The most-lapped victim was Ieri Shoko, who endured the grinning gorillas with murderous patience.
Gorilla No. 1: Geto Suguru, fastest by a mile.
Gorilla No. 2: Gojo Satoru, explosive start neck-and-neck with Suguru, then visibly fading, classic case of no stamina.
Gorilla No. 3: Asou Akiya, breathing steady, pace metronomic, refusing to break.
When he passed Shoko's lane he matched her speed for a dozen seconds.
"Shoko, don't worry. They're not counting your laps."
The gentle reassurance instantly stripped the gorilla label from Akiya in her mind.
Gorillas don't understand human suffering. Akiya did.
Shoko gritted her teeth and hissed, "I'm fine. I have reversed cursed technique."
Muscle aches? What muscle aches?
She reached out, laid a hand on Akiya's shoulder, and poured a warm pulse of reversed energy into him.
Not all the spent stamina returned, but the difference was night and day. Akiya exhaled in relief, nodded gratefully, and picked up speed so he wouldn't fall too far behind.
Yaga Masamichi flipped open a small notebook, jotting observations about the boys. Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru required detailed reports for Headquarters later, to confirm their attitudes toward the jujutsu world.
When he noticed Shoko quietly "cheating" for Akiya, he deliberately looked away.
"No need to pressure him further."
Being classmates with three different flavors of monster was pressure enough.
Akiya only had to give his best.
Everything else, Yaga refused to push too hard. The minimum goal was to get the boy to Grade 3 by graduation.
That way, once he left Jujutsu High, he could survive on his own: take missions, protect himself from Grade 2 spirits, and at least run from Grade 1s. Special Grade? If one of those showed up, any ordinary sorcerer's fate was in the hands of heaven anyway.
Fifty laps… Finished.
Asou Akiya let out a quiet breath of relief: he hadn't fallen too far behind. Geto Suguru even hooked an arm around him, saving what little strength he had left, and steered him into the shade where they could both enjoy the spectacle of Ieri Shoko miserably trudging through her last twenty laps.
Gojo Satoru wasn't faring much better. Without sunglasses, sweat beaded on his forehead and slid in shining trails down his neck, disappearing into the high collar of his uniform. He hadn't known today was physical training; he was overdressed. The black fabric drank sunlight, and beneath it a white dress shirt clung to a black undershirt, layer upon layer glued to his skin by perspiration.
He was breathing hard, palms braced on his thighs.
"Damn it."
He hadn't beaten weird-bangs.
In his sprint for first place, the stiff new Jujutsu High shoes had shredded the skin off both heels. Even without removing them, the Six Eyes saw the white socks soaked crimson at the back.
Gojo Satoru was not the type to enjoy suffering. He wanted Shoko to heal him with reversed cursed technique.
"She still hasn't finished?" he muttered, disgusted.
By comparison, the shorty didn't look so pathetic after all: at least he had completed the full distance.
This wasn't some tiny school track!
Shoko finally staggered across the finish line. Akiya and Suguru showered her with praise. She caught sight of Satoru staring at her, but she was too thirsty to wonder why the Gojo heir was looking her way.
"Water… Akiya… give me water…"
Akiya shook his head cruelly. "Hold it in. No drinking right after running."
Right behind her, Gojo Satoru walked up and declared coldly, "Oi. Heal me."
Shoko bristled at the imperious tone and the lack of a name. Official sorcerers on missions got sent to her for emergency treatment when gravely wounded. That didn't mean she owed every classmate free medical service.
She would heal Akiya and Suguru because they were worth it.
"Gojo… kun…" Shoko panted, forcing the words out between breaths, pressured by the expectant stares of Akiya and Suguru. "Buy me… water first… then I'll heal you."
Satoru used the Six Eyes to measure the distance to the vending machine. His face fell.
So far.
Sharp, stinging pain prickled from his heels with every heartbeat.
His gaze flicked—almost by accident—to Akiya's pocket. A tiny pause.
Band-aids.
Neither Akiya nor Suguru was injured. The only one bleeding was him. After he had rejected the shorty's kindness earlier… the guy had still brought two band-aids.
"Tch."
Satoru swallowed the temptation and began mentally constructing the teleportation formula to the vending machine…
Akiya leaned in and whispered something to Suguru.
Suguru raised an eyebrow. "Ha? You're hopeless. Way too soft-hearted."
Unable to refuse a classmate's kindness, Suguru took the two band-aids from Akiya, walked straight to Satoru, and held them out.
"Gojo. Shoko's a girl. Making an exhausted girl take off a guy's sweaty shoes and socks just to heal his stinky, bloody feet? That's pathetic."
He added offhandedly, "Tough it out. Pain's part of physical training."
Satoru nearly fell over backwards from sheer rage.
"I don't need band-aids!"
"Fine by me."
Suguru immediately started to pull them back; he had never thought boys needed coddling anyway.
Suguru was just about to pocket the band-aids again. Boys didn't need babying.
In a flash, Gojo Satoru snatched them away, lips curling into a sulk. His fingers crumpled the little packets into a tight ball, clutching them in his fist like someone might steal them back.
"You said they were for me. Even if I don't use them, they're not going back to you."
Suguru stared, speechless. "Are you five?"
"I'm older than you. I was born in '89 too. You're the childish one." Satoru gave a haughty little huff. He still hadn't mastered the art of proper arguing, and with his stamina bar completely drained, the idea of an actual fight had lost all appeal. He stalked over to the bench, plopped down, yanked off shoes and socks, and slapped the band-aids onto his heels with decisive finality.
Under the shade of the tree, Asou Akiya leaned against the trunk, eyes half-lidded, deliberately not watching the scene nearby.
He knew Suguru would keep his word.
The sound of approaching footsteps made him straighten and put his gentle smile back on.
"Thanks, Geto-kun."
Bathed in backlit sunlight, the top-knotted boy grinned wide and bright. A short distance away, the white-haired one watched them with a sulky glare.
Thus the four first-years of Tokyo Jujutsu High survived a lively, chaotic morning.
_____
Author's Note:
Happy Lantern Festival! Today I'm especially, especially happy!
Our family dog, who's been with my parents for twelve years, went missing on Tuesday and was picked up by a stranger. This afternoon at four, on Lantern Festival itself, the police finally found the person and brought our twelve-year-old pup home safe.
The moment he walked through the door, he wagged his tail like crazy and rolled over for belly rubs. After days of worry, everyone in the family is smiling again.
___
Second update!!