Chapter 44
The Tokyo Jujutsu High black sedan sliced through the morning traffic, heading south toward Miura City in Kanagawa Prefecture.
Behind the wheel sat their assistant supervisor—a young woman with chestnut-brown hair cut in a neat bob and delicate, refined features. Though her cursed energy was faint, she possessed the rare gift of seeing curses, and her presence alone helped soften the tension between the two male students in the backseat. Dressed in a crisp black business suit, she played both driver and mission-briefer with quiet professionalism.
"The most famous local event here is the Ryūjin Festival on Shidzume Island," she explained, her voice calm but focused. "It's one of the festivals long monitored by Window. Your target is a dragon-shaped curse drawn out by the festival's energy. Classified under the Spirit Genus within the Curse Family, its codename is 'Rainbow Dragon.' It's confirmed Grade 1 in cursed energy output, though its technique remains unknown. Its defensive capabilities are exceptionally high, and we haven't yet pinned down its exact classification. Several Grade 2 sorcerers have already been dispatched—and all failed to exorcise it."
She paused, then added gravely, "After deliberation by Jujutsu Headquarters, it's been determined the curse is still in a growth phase. It can fly—and shows signs of Special Grade potential. You must exorcise it before it matures. The mission directive is clear: do not let it survive until the next Ryūjin Festival on July 30."
Finished, she glanced at them through the rearview mirror—just a fleeting, quiet look—before returning her eyes to the road.
Normally, a mission of this caliber wouldn't be assigned to first-year students.
But this curse was no ordinary threat. Its ability to fly neutralized ninety-nine percent of jujutsu sorcerers, who were grounded and unprepared for aerial combat. With conventional forces failing, Jujutsu Headquarters had no choice but to rely on the one person whose eyes could track anything—the Six Eyes—and the one sorcerer whose arsenal included curses of every shape and strength: the Cursed Spirit Manipulator.
A dragon-type curse? That can fly?
Geto Suguru's pulse quickened. He'd already decided: this curse was his. No question.
Curses born from the fusion of human fear and mythic belief often carried a faint echo of the sacred—like fragments of legend made flesh. In all his years of capturing spirits, Geto had never encountered a high-grade flying curse. This was unprecedented.
He shot a wary glance at Gojo Satoru.
That damn bastard is going to be my biggest obstacle.
"Whoa—a flying curse?" Gojo drawled, arms laced behind his head, staring idly out the window. There was a flicker of genuine surprise in his voice, casual yet intrigued, as if speaking to the air itself. "A dragon that cool? Exorcising it's gonna feel amazing."
Geto fell silent.
Damn it. His weakness had just been exposed. He ached for a flying curse—it was the one thing his collection lacked. And Gojo, with his effortless arrogance, had just dangled it right in front of him.
"What do you want?" Geto asked, tone low, already shifting into negotiation mode.
"What do I want?" Gojo smirked without looking at him. "I'll do whatever the hell I feel like. Since when did I need your permission?"
It was Gojo's go-to answer—the ultimate shield against all logic, compromise, or reason.
"We're classmates," Geto pressed, voice earnest, almost pleading. "We can't afford to sabotage each other."
"Weird Bangs," Gojo said, sitting up straight with sudden, chilling calmness, his voice dropping to an almost eerie register, "you suddenly remember we're classmates now? How honored I am."
He ticked off his grievances one by one, each word sharper than the last:
"Who was it this morning that accused me of hitting someone I didn't touch?
Who leapt at me like I was about to throw a punch?
Who called me an elementary schooler?"
Geto, ever pragmatic, didn't hesitate. "It was me. All of it was my fault."
He lowered his guard completely, bowed his head slightly in a rare show of submission. "Please, Gojo-kun—be magnanimous. Just forget it ever happened."
Gojo let out a cold, dismissive snort. "Too late. I'm tearing that dragon apart—peeling its scales off one by one. Even if it evolves into a Special Grade curse today, even if it starts breathing fire and summoning lightning—I'm exorcising it. No debate."
Geto clenched his jaw, biting back frustration. Stay calm. Remember how Asou handles him—stroke his ego, don't fight it.
He forced his voice to soften. "I'll treat you to a meal. I know an amazing dessert shop."
Gojo stuck his tongue out at him like a petulant child. "I don't like sweets."
A vein throbbed at Geto's temple, but he kept his expression carefully gentle. "Tell me what you want. I'll give you one chance to name your price."
Gojo fell silent. The usual liveliness in his eyes faded, replaced by an unsettling, hollow detachment—like a divine child withdrawing from mortal trivialities.
"I want you to refine a Cursed Spirit into Cursed Spirit Jade right in front of me," he said slowly, "or let me take just one bite of the jade itself."
"…"
"Can't do it, Weird Bangs?"
"Ask something else."
"Oh, fine." Gojo's mood shifted again in an instant—suddenly light, almost playful. "My request is simple: once you've tamed the dragon curse, let me ride it. Just me. The little tangerine doesn't get to go up. He didn't lift a finger in this mission, so he gets zero claim to it."
Geto's agreement died in his throat. "No. You're discriminating against Asou again."
He'd been ready to concede on the first demand—but not this.
"I've never discriminated against him," Gojo said flatly, then dropped a bombshell right in front of both Geto and the assistant supervisor: "He's mine. He belongs to my household. He accepted our benefits, enrolled at Tokyo Jujutsu High under our arrangement—so it's only natural he serves me."
Geto's brow furrowed in disbelief. "That can't be right. He's denied any ties to the Three Great Families—more than once."
At the wheel, the assistant supervisor's hands tightened almost imperceptibly on the steering wheel.
The Gojo clan… assigned one of their own to be Gojo Satoru's classmate?
The implications coiled in the air like smoke—unseen, but suffocating.
What's the point of stopping him? Geto thought bitterly. Might as well let his arrogance run its course.
Then he remembered the black-haired boy's parting words before they left: "When you get back, we'll make zongzi together."
His heart clenched. He couldn't stay angry—not entirely.
"Gojo," he said quietly, eyes still closed, voice weary but firm, "I won't repeat what you said today. Just… drop the assistant supervisor talk." He'd given up fighting it, but a sliver of unease remained. "And for your own sake—never cross Asou."
Gojo let out a sharp "Tch," rolled down the window, and deliberately turned his gaze outward—anything to avoid looking at Geto.
But through the Six Eyes, he'd already seen the raw, unfeigned worry in Geto's expression.
Weird Bangs actually thinks I'm belittling Asou?
Doesn't he get it? Sorcerers die young. Only Grade 1s have the right to call others "friends." Asou himself said that—he knows it better than anyone!
[You two are so weird.]
[Could being a jujutsu sorcerer really mean more to the little tangerine than living safely as an assistant supervisor?]
[Kinda admirable… but also kinda stupid. Whatever.]
His Six Eyes caught a cicada clinging to a roadside branch—its brief, piercing cry slicing through the summer heat.
A wave of sleeplessness, dull and heavy, fogged the sharp edges of his usually ice-cold mind.
If this approach won't work…
Then fine.
Let's do it my way.
—
It took them some time to track down the curse. But once they engaged the dragon-type entity, Gojo and Geto fell into perfect sync—harassment, misdirection, relentless pressure—herding the massive creature far from any populated area, deep into the ruins of an abandoned industrial zone.
The white-haired prodigy, who held command of the skies, deliberately chose not to use his technique.
Instead, he channeled pure cursed energy through his body, fused it with flawless taijutsu—and delivered a punch that carried the weight of absolute conviction.
"Black Flash!"
The impact detonated like a thunderclap. The dragon—codenamed Rainbow Dragon—shattered midair. Its lower body disintegrated, its core nearly exorcised on the spot.
The colossal beast, scales glinting like polished pearl, let out a gut-wrenching howl. Golden eyes wide with terror, it plummeted from the sky and crashed into the rubble below. Above, the massive Curtain barrier, strained beyond its limit, began to flicker and dissolve.
"DON'T KILL IT!!!" Geto screamed, eyes bloodshot as he lunged forward.
He dove toward the falling dragon, hands already moving at blinding speed, weaving cursed energy into a sphere—crafting a Cursed Spirit Jade with desperate, unprecedented haste.
This curse had no technique—but once tamed, it would lose all potential to evolve. Still, it couldn't be dismissed as a mere Grade 2. Its flight speed rivaled high-tier aerial curses, and its hide was tough enough to rival certain Special Grades.
Hovering midair, the prodigy sorcerer laughed—bright, radiant, untouchable. His white hair and white uniform blazed like a solar flare against the summer sky, and his triumphant, unrestrained laughter crashed over Geto like a wave of searing wind:
"Hahahaha—! I'm a genius! The moment I needed 'Black Flash,' I mastered it instantly!" Gojo crowed, voice ringing with exhilaration. "Weird Bangs, you don't even know this move! When we get back, I'll be the little tangerine's teacher!"
Geto's face twisted into sheer disbelief—like someone who'd just been told the moon was made of cheese. "You're gonna be a teacher?"
Gojo drifted down to the ground, boots touching earth as if rejoining the mortal realm. "Yeah," he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I'm gonna teach him Black Flash."
He blinked once—those impossibly clear, sky-blue eyes flashing with cold, crystalline insight—then immediately slid his sunglasses back on.
"There's a world of difference between a sorcerer who knows Black Flash and one who doesn't," he mused, almost to himself. "I just figured it out myself—it's like I suddenly grasped a core truth about cursed energy. Shame I can't chain a second one right after, though."
He turned to Geto, grin sharp and challenging. "So hurry up and learn it too, Weird Bangs. Don't let me leave you in the dust."
"Black Flash can shatter the lifetime limits most sorcerers never even touch," he added, voice dropping with quiet gravity. "It'll be enough to push him to Grade 2."
The words hung in the air—simple, yet seismic.
Geto's expression shifted instantly. He didn't wait for cleanup or debrief. He lunged, grabbing Gojo's arm just as the white-haired boy was about to head back to the car. "Gojo—why rush back now? We should take on another mission."
"Huh?" Gojo blinked, genuinely confused.
Without missing a beat, Geto whipped out his phone with one hand, scrolled through the mission log at lightning speed, and—with the fervor of a man who saw curses not as targets but as sworn enemies—snatched up multiple Grade 2+ assignments. His voice came out urgent, almost feverish:
"Come on! Time's wasting! Seeing your Black Flash just now gave me a breakthrough—I can feel it. If I fight another high-grade curse right away, I'll lock in that sensation!"
He could not fall behind.
Not even a step.
Because once you fell behind Gojo Satoru, you never caught up.
The path to Special Grade was narrow—too narrow for two in a single year.
And he—not Gojo—was the one truly fit to be Asou's teacher.
"Wait—I—" Gojo sputtered.
But before he could protest further, Geto—now radiating an aura so dense with determination it bordered on cursed energy—dragged him bodily toward the next mission site.
The Six Eyes' pupils contracted sharply.
This Weird Bangs…
The black aura swirling off him right now is darker and more ominous than most curses I've ever fought with!
—
Geto Suguru: I can't fall behind Gojo!
Geto Suguru:I haven't even become a Special Grade sorcerer yet—I haven't earned the right for Asou to call me his friend!
Geto Suguru:If anyone's going to be Asou's teacher… it has to be me!