July arrived and the sun turned merciless. Festival posters blanketed every wall, every telephone pole, every train station in Japan.
Small local matsuri gave way to grand regional celebrations one after another until the calendar looked like a kaleidoscope of colour and noise. During this season the jujutsu sorcerers quietly shouldered part of the police workload: exorcising cursed spirits, keeping crowds safe, making sure ordinary people could enjoy their summer without ever knowing how close the darkness sometimes stood.
Yaga Masamichi taped a long festival schedule to the blackboard and began walking the class through each entry with the same gravity he reserved for mission briefings.
Geto Suguru copied everything down in neat, precise handwriting.
Asou Akiya cross-referenced the board with his phone and typed the same information into his memo app for good measure.
Gojo Satoru balanced a ballpoint pen horizontally beneath his nose, head tilted back, legs crossed lazily under the desk. He needed no notes; he already knew every obscure ritual and parade by heart.
Ieiri Shoko wore the faint, perpetual half-smile of someone who would never be sent on outdoor duty and continued scrolling through her phone in peace.
"July 1st through the 15th: Hakata Gion Yamakasa in Fukuoka Prefecture."
"July 14th: Nachi Fire Festival in Wakayama Prefecture, one of Japan's three great fire festivals."
"July 18th: the third Monday of the month, national Marine Day holiday."
"July 16th through the 29th: Gion Matsuri in Kyoto, one of Japan's three grandest festivals."
"July 22nd through the 24th: Warei Grand Festival in Ehime Prefecture."
"July 24th through the 25th: Tenjin Matsuri in Osaka, another of Japan's three grandest festivals."
"Late July into early August: Miyajima Kangensai in Hiroshima Prefecture, one of Japan's three great boat festivals."
"July 30th: the Sumida River Fireworks Festival in Tokyo. The largest display will be held on that Saturday…"
They had not realised just how many festivals crammed the month of July until the list stared back at them.
While Geto Suguru scribbled furiously, Asou Akiya raised his hand. "Yaga-sensei, did you leave out Tanabata on July 7th?"
He had already checked: Japan did celebrate Tanabata, but it was nothing like Valentine's Day.
Yaga Masamichi answered without looking up from his notes. "Tanabata is nationwide and rarely causes disturbances. No official Shinto or government commissions come in for it. I've already filtered out festivals that don't concern us."
Asou clicked his tongue. People prayed to the gods every single day, yet cursed spirits never decreased by even one.
Leaving aside the countless Shinto observances, Marine Day alone was practically guaranteed to help one of the Four Great Calamities (Dagon, embodiment of the sea) grow stronger.
After a long silence, Gojo finally blew the pen off his upper lip and raised a languid hand. "Yaga, I need two days off. Gotta go back to Kyoto on the 17th, and on the 30th the Heike old tangerines invited me to Itsukushima Shrine."
Yaga flipped through the thick stack of mission briefs, weighing the request. "Fine. I'll approve two days for the 17th family matter, but in exchange you're taking full responsibility for the Miyajima Kangensai."
The Miyajima Kangensai was the very festival held at Itsukushima Shrine in Hatsukaichi, Hiroshima Prefecture. Originating in the Heian era under the warlord Taira no Kiyomori, it centred on elegant gagaku court music performed from boats drifting across the tide. From ancient times it had been a favourite of Kyoto nobility, and the ancient Gojo family still maintained distant ties with the secular Taira descendants.
Gojo shrugged. "Sure. Though I probably won't even need to lift a finger."
Asou quietly noted the dates Gojo would be away and typed into his phone: [What festival is on July 17th?]
Gojo's Six Eyes caught the screen instantly. He lit up like a child and spilled the real reason without shame. "That's the absolute peak of Kyoto's Gion Matsuri! Thirty giant floats parade down the main streets, every food stall in the city comes out. It was my favourite day when I was little. Not even the curse users could find me in that crowd!"
Asou: "…"
Yaga: "…"
Geto Suguru would have loved nothing more than to drag Gojo straight into the abyss of overtime. "Sensei, he's asking for leave just to go have fun."
Yaga Masamichi barked the name like a drill sergeant. "GOJO!"
Gojo answered in the most listless voice imaginable. "Here."
Yaga's tone turned thunderous. "While your classmates are working themselves to the bone, how can you even think about running off to enjoy yourself?"
Gojo flopped forward onto his desk with a dramatic groan. "Shoko's slacking off just as much."
Ieiri Shoko instantly set her phone down and launched into shameless flattery. "Don't drag me into this! I'm genuinely jealous you guys get to experience so many festivals in one month. The safety of every celebration in Japan rests on your capable shoulders, my amazing, heroic male classmates."
Asou Akiya raised a hand. "I'm not amazing. I formally request to become Yaga-sensei's permanent leg accessory."
Yaga coughed, unaccustomed to having his thigh hugged in spirit, and scolded the class. "I'll take you on missions myself. Cut the nonsense and focus on getting stronger."
Under Yaga's "persuasion," Gojo reluctantly abandoned his plan for a one-day Kyoto holiday.
As compensation, however, Yaga assigned Gojo, Geto, and Asou a curse-extermination mission in Kyoto on July 17th itself, ensuring they would still witness the city at its most vibrant.
After class, the three of them plunged head-first into overtime hell.
They rode in cars until motion sickness set in, celebrated festival after festival until the very word made them nauseous, and exorcised cursed spirits that multiplied like rats building nests.
For the first time, Asou Akiya tasted the infamous "bitter summer" that Jujutsu Kaisen was known for. His appetite plummeted.
He thought to himself: if even I, who only fights with physical techniques and never has to swallow cursed spirit orbs, am reacting this badly, then Geto, two doors down, must be on the verge of losing his mind.
He's only fifteen!
There has to be a limit to how much the jujutsu world squeezes its talent!
There was little Asou Akiya could do, but he made it his mission to ensure Geto Suguru never returned to an empty dormitory and sat alone with the taste of cursed spirits still coating his tongue.
Sometimes he dragged Ieiri Shoko along, sometimes Gojo Satoru, using the simple warmth of classmates to dilute the bitterness clinging to Geto. Without noticing, a few new titles on psychological counselling appeared on his dorm bookshelf. Whenever he had a spare moment he devoured them.
Gojo Satoru thought Geto was nowhere near that fragile and that Little Tangerine was making a mountain out of a molehill.
Asou did not waste breath lecturing the high-school boy version of Gojo. He simply promised that every time he went out of town he would bring back regional specialities, provided Gojo kept Geto company while he was gone.
Gojo happily accepted the deal for the sake of snacks.
"I'll be waiting for those souvenirs. Make sure they're tasty and fun."
"No picking fights with Suguru this month. Understood?"
"Got it!
"I stood in line and bought the newest game cartridge for you. I also restocked the entire snack cupboard. Play together. It's fine if you argue during the game, but keep feeding him. Don't let his frame get any thinner."
"Little Tangerine's wearing a lot of hats these days. Did weird-bangs bribe you or something?"
"Nope."
Asou did not even know what Geto's parents looked like; he only knew Geto avoided the subject of family entirely.
"Call it meddling, then." Asou fixed Gojo with a serious stare. "If he ever freezes up or goes blank, call me immediately. I'm not expecting you to have the emotional intelligence to counsel him yourself."
Gojo put on his classic "Little Tangerine is nagging again" face and agreed anyway.
…
Mid-July
Geto Suguru, exhausted to the point of vertigo, finally rode Rainbow Dragon back to the dorm. He had barely stepped inside before Gojo grabbed his wrist and hauled him off again.
The revulsion toward cursed spirits never had time to surface. Gojo shoved controllers into his hands, forced snacks on him nonstop, and dragged him into marathon gaming sessions with the blunt, uncomplicated sincerity of someone who had never schemed.
A white-haired classmate with no malice in his bones and emotions as steady as sunlight.
Like a healthy sunflower blooming in a vase, impossible not to find it endearing just to look at.
Thanks to all the frantic multi-city transfers, Gojo Satoru's short-range teleportation had improved by leaps and bounds.
He spoke around the straw of his milk tea. "Weird-bangs, you're not allowed to lose weight. Little tangerine will complain."
The Six Eyes fed him real-time data, monitoring Geto Suguru's physical condition down to the gram.
"I'm fine."
Geto managed a small smile. Two male classmates worrying over him; it warmed something inside his chest.
"Gojo," he murmured, thoughts drifting far from the game that usually absorbed him completely, "there are so many festivals worth celebrating. Why do people still breed even more negative emotions?"
"There are too many cursed spirits in summer."
Gojo answered without looking away from the screen. "Being worth celebrating and actually feeling satisfied are two different things, aren't they?"
Geto turned toward the heir of the Three Great Families, searching for an answer he could believe in. "Then why do they pray to the gods at all?"
Gojo considered the question the way he considered everything: from the angle of individual desire. "Don't you love Rainbow Dragon?"
He tilted his head. "Without all those people praying to dragon gods at every festival, your Rainbow Dragon would never have been born. That's exactly where it; your Rainbow Dragon came into existence because of all those dragon-god rituals."
Gods (Kami)… are the same as cursed spirits!!
The realisation struck Geto like a hammer between the eyes. Nausea surged; disbelief roared in his ears.
"Weird-bangs?" Gojo noticed his teammate had frozen mid-game.
"Crashed?" Gojo waved a hand in front of Geto's blank, staring eyes and let out a low whistle of genuine admiration.
Little Tangerine's prophecy had come true on the very first try.
True to his word as always, Gojo fished out his phone, dialled Asou Akiya in seconds, then tossed the device straight into Geto's lap before wandering off to raid the fridge for something sweet.
"Gojo? Or… Suguru?"
"Asou, is it actually true that festivals create cursed spirits?!"
Geto blurted the question out in a rush, the emotions he had bottled up for so long finally finding a release, erupting like a volcano that had waited far too long.
The idea was too grave; it shook his faith in every traditional Japanese festival to its core.
"That's way too extreme. There's no way Gojo phrased it like that. Suguru, did you twist his words again?"
Asou had set a special ringtone for Gojo's calls. He was currently outside a Curtain and asked Yaga for a quick five-minute break.
"I don't have much time. I'm about to head into a mission," Asou said, cutting straight through the tangle. "Japanese legend speaks of eight million gods*. The purpose of festivals is to pray for peace of heart. They are not held to manufacture gods, and certainly not to manufacture cursed spirits. We have to get the cause and effect right. No one organising a festival wants to bring harm to society. People are already exhausted. Festivals exist for the sake of this society."
*{Note: Yaoyorozu no Kami (八百万の神, Eight Million Gods) is a term referring to kami in Shinto. The phrase "eight million gods" in Shinto religion does not mean that there are exactly 8 million gods. It means there are too many gods to count. At the time infinity was not a known concept and 8 is a lucky number in Asian culture.}
"Suguru, don't fixate only on the cursed spirits. Have you seen everyone's smiles?"
"On the 17th we'll all be in Kyoto together, exorcising cursed spirits, keeping the peace, making sure everyone can enjoy the day even more."
"The root cause of cursed-spirit birth is written plainly in your textbooks. Fear is the source. Reverence and love for the sacred do not spawn cursed spirits. The rare cursed spirits born from faith are outliers, anomalies. In all your years you've only ever encountered Rainbow Dragon. A colossal white-scaled, golden-eyed dragon—so majestic. We can't pretend creatures like that are commonplace across Japan."
Asou spoke with the clarity of textbooks and lived experience, gradually easing the resistance that had taken root in Geto's heart toward festivals.
Geto's shallow, uneven breathing was audible over the line.
"I… I understand what you're saying. But in a world without gods, I still feel like festivals don't mean much…"
"Who says there are no gods in this world?"
Asou Akiya spoke a sentence that struck Geto Suguru like a thunderbolt. "We sorcerers are the gods. We protect humanity while being feared by it. A thousand years ago, the King of Curses himself was enshrined on an altar and revered as 'Ryomen Sukuna,' his name alone shaking the entire Heian capital."
Rebellion ran in his very marrow, yet every word was undeniable truth. "We are not lifeless statues locked inside shrines. We are sorcerers who walk among the living. Sorcerers deter cursed spirits, non-sorcerers deter sorcerers with their hot weapons. It is a balance of terror. Never forget that the ground beneath our feet belongs to a society made up of billions of ordinary humans."
"Protecting ordinary people is also protecting the jujutsu world, giving us the unique value we possess."
"Think carefully about how society is structured. The weak are not weak, the strong are not strong. The jujutsu world has never wanted open war with the Japanese government. On that point, the Gojo family, with a thousand years of inherited wisdom, could teach you a thing or two."
"Why are the Three Great Families only the three great families of the jujutsu world, and not of Japan itself?"
"Is it because they lack the power?"
"No. They know full well that staying hidden behind the curtain is the safest course."
Asou ended the call, stepped calmly out of the corner, and walked back to Yaga Masamichi as though nothing had happened.
Yaga frowned. "Did Gojo and Geto start fighting?"
Asou shook his head. "No. Geto got stuck in a mental dead-end over the festivals. Gojo is comforting him properly."
The moment he recalled Gojo's exact phrasing, Asou ground his teeth. "Who on earth taught Gojo Japanese literature?"
The Gojo clan's traditional education came under fire once again, solely because Gojo Satoru was far too free a spirit.
Back in the boys' dormitory, Gojo Satoru stared at the phone in total bewilderment, the expression of a student happily gaming when the school suddenly announces extra homework.
Geto Suguru had just asked him why the Three Great Families of the jujutsu world were not the Three Great Families of Japan itself.
Gojo Satoru answered as though the question were the most obvious thing in the world. "What's there to explain?"
He hated digging to the roots of anything. To him, most truths were plain as day.
"The old tangerines just can't pull it off!"
"Between the main house and branch families there are only so few of us. Only a handful have cursed energy, and even fewer inherit proper techniques. They cling to ancestral traditions and refuse to let any outsider without cursed energy anywhere near the core."
"And they still expect me to hold the whole thing together! I don't even want to become family head when I grow up!"
The heir to what billions would kill for, lost his mind at the mere thought of inheriting them.
Geto Suguru: "…"
The horrifying revelation that Japanese festivals birthed cursed spirits paled in comparison to the shock of hearing where Gojo Satoru's actual stress came from.
When it came to human deviation…
Some people worried themselves sick over the fate of the jujutsu world.
While others complained that running one of the Three Great Families was too much trouble.
That summer, Asou Akiya set himself a simple creed: eat well, earn money, keep the body in top shape. He became the unofficial first-year class monitor, watching over his classmates' adolescent health with quiet vigilance and privately heading off trouble at every turn.
In short, everyone should treasure their student days and not waste time brooding over all that messy, complicated nonsense!