In September, Asou Akiya's training regimen suddenly grew far more demanding.
Yaga Masamichi raised his expectations sharply — even the casual sparring sessions with Ieiri Shoko that had once allowed for half-hearted effort were now strictly forbidden. New courses were added: mastery of sword-shaped cursed tools, precise control of cursed energy, heightened perception of cursed energy, and other essential combat techniques.
Beyond that, Yaga Masamichi insisted that Asou Akiya's hand-to-hand combat and fist techniques could not be neglected — progress had to be steady and methodical. He planned every hour of the day with meticulous care: sleep must come precisely when scheduled, meals must be taken without fail, and even when exhaustion set in during training, Asou Akiya was required to seek treatment from Ieiri Shoko to restore his body fully before moving on to the next session.
"The Sister School Goodwill Event between the jujutsu highs lasts two days. The first day is the group competition — I have no worries about your performance there."
"The second day is the individual competition, Akiya. You cannot rely on anyone else. Most civilian sorcerers enter at the fourth-grade level — whether they advance to third-grade depends entirely on how they perform in the exchange event."
"With a first-grade cursed tool in hand, your theoretical combat strength falls between third-grade and quasi-second-grade sorcerer."
"Do not let all your hard work go to waste. Your upcoming opponents will be Kyoto School's first-year freshmen — not one among them is a second-grade sorcerer. You must face them with the confidence to defeat every single one!"
Yaga Masamichi's words during training were stern and unrelenting — leaving Asou Akiya staring in stunned disbelief.
Wait — facing all of Kyoto School's freshmen alone?
That sounds exactly like the Itadori Yuji template!
"Who will Gojo and Suguru face?" Asou Akiya gritted his teeth and thrust his sword toward the teacher.
"Kyoto School students from the second and third years," Yaga Masamichi replied, paying no heed to his novice swordsmanship.
Two beginners in the realm of swordsmanship clashed as though locked in mortal combat — as long as neither could kill the other, every strike was delivered with full intent. Yaga Masamichi showed no mercy toward Asou Akiya, pushing him to his absolute limits to force rapid growth.
Yaga Masamichi's intensive private coaching burned on with fierce momentum.
In the classroom, Ieiri Shoko would occasionally step out to receive a battered and bruised Asou Akiya in dire need of repair.
This year had seen fewer natural disasters; after the ripples from several earthquakes had subsided, the sorcerers' demanding summer workload finally drew to a close — granting the first-year students precious time to return to something resembling a normal classroom routine.
Geto Suguru glanced to his right — the neighboring seat stood empty, Asou Akiya absent as usual. Finding little common ground for conversation with Ieiri Shoko, he reluctantly turned his head toward Gojo Satoru on his left.
Gojo Satoru remained utterly indifferent to whether little tangerine was present or not — his attention wholly absorbed by a comic book, completely ignoring the assistant supervisor delivering the lesson.
The assistant supervisor dared not voice any complaint, inwardly weeping: "Why isn't Asou-kun here!"
Among the three students below, Gojo Satoru had no interest in attending lessons, Getou Suguru appeared somewhat reserved and quiet, while Ieiri Shoko had indeed pulled out a book perfectly suited to her expertise.
Yet it bore no relation whatsoever to the classroom material — a thick tome on medicine instead.
Suddenly afforded this unexpected leisure, Getou Suguru found himself rather unaccustomed to it — the other two, however, harbored no such discomfort.
Boredom eventually drove Getou Suguru to take two full sets of lecture notes, intending to pass one copy along to Asou Akiya.
Gojo Satoru remarked casually, "The exchange event is coming up soon, right?"
Getou Suguru responded instinctively: "Teacher Yaga hasn't mentioned the exact date — probably wants to surprise us."
Catching sight of the assistant supervisor's pitiful expression, Getou Suguru mimed zipping his lips shut and offered a smiling gesture to indicate he would say no more — assuring the supervisor he would no longer disrupt the classroom order.
After classes ended, Getou Suguru still caught no glimpse of Asou Akiya. He ended up heading out for dinner in the company of Gojo Satoru.
Gojo Satoru promptly began peppering him with a relentless stream of deeply embarrassing questions.
"Sugu, which female celebrity do you like?"
"Which photobook is the best?"
"That magazine you recommended last time — I finished it, but it didn't do much for me. Recommend another one."
"I've noticed you seem to like the bright and cheerful type…" Gojo Satoru rattled on without pause, a relentless stream of chatter. Getou Suguru immediately clamped a hand over Gojo Satoru's mouth, glancing frantically left and right — terrified that someone else in the restaurant might overhear.
Getou Suguru pleaded for mercy: "Please, Gojo — absolutely do not say things like that in public. Even if it's not true, people will take it seriously."
Gojo Satoru nodded with a shameless, grinning compliance.
Once Getou Suguru lowered his hand, Gojo Satoru asked, "Gaming tonight?"
Getou Suguru replied without much enthusiasm: "No thanks — better to rest early. We can't game every single day."
While subtly monitoring the restaurant kitchen with his Six Eyes to confirm everything was safe, Gojo Satoru grumbled in dissatisfaction: "It's hardly that frequent. You know how busy the last few months have been. The number of times you've come looking for me is less than the times you've sought out Akiya alone — I'm your classmate too, you know."
"Are you a child?" Getou Suguru retorted. "Only kids get jealous over things like that with their friends."
"I'm not friends with you," Gojo Satoru denied flatly.
"As if I care," Getou Suguru huffed lightly.
After finishing their meal, the two slipped into a narrow alley, summoned the Rainbow Dragon, and rode it back.
High in the sky — far from any prying strangers, no longer in a public place — Gojo Satoru behaved like a high schooler experiencing social interaction for the first time, utterly oblivious that such topics required deep intimacy to broach. "Come on, tell me — what type do you like? I go for mature beauties!"
Getou Suguru, worn down by the persistent pestering, finally answered: "Someone kind-hearted with shared interests — that's enough."
At long last, they arrived back at the boys' dormitory.
Getou Suguru swiftly parted ways with Gojo Satoru — as though lingering even one second longer might tarnish his reputation beyond repair.
Gojo Satoru returned to his dormitory and stared blankly at the gaming console for a brief moment. He remembered once coming across a description online that claimed the ultimate requirement for an enjoyable game was to have "one friend." to play with you. But at the time, he had refused to believe it — convinced that solo gaming held far greater enjoyment. Now, however, he had finally come to understand the peculiar vexation of possessing an entire stack of game cartridges yet having no one with whom to play them.
Yet this fleeting melancholy vanished in an instant — Gojo Satoru, taking advantage of little tangerine's packed schedule, had unearthed a new source of amusement.
The reading lamp beside his bed flickered on.
Gojo Satoru sprawled across the mattress, surrounded by an array of magazines — photobooks of female celebrities scattered in glorious disarray across the entire bed.
The long-haired youth lounged with languid grace, his mind drifting in pleasant ease, his eyes tireless. Occasionally, he lingered on a borderline provocative image, a faint blush rising to his cheeks — yet he could not recapture the sensation from that previous dream.
He bit down lightly on his fingertip, gnawing thoughtfully, then covered his eyes with one hand while pressing a kiss to his own wrist — lips brushing slowly against skin until a gradual warmth began to stir.
Shyness mingled with novel curiosity; his cerebral cortex sparked with sudden activity. He paused abruptly, hurried to draw the bedroom curtains tightly shut.
Leaping back onto the bed, a new thought struck him — what were boys his age usually doing at this hour?
Surely he could not be the only one engaging in something naughty?
Gojo Satoru activated his Six Eyes to peer at Getou Suguru, whose cursed energy burned powerfully bright — under the thermal-like imaging of cursed force, the Six Eyes rendered an outline nearly indistinguishable from a real human form, differing only in coloration from what ordinary sight perceived.
Getou Suguru had not left his room; he leaned against the headboard watching television — though the content on the screen remained unclear.
Even with the Six Eyes, Gojo Satoru could not penetrate walls to discern images displayed on curse-energy-devoid electronic devices.
In his dormitory, Getou Suguru's emotions remained tranquil — his hair bun loosened and slightly disheveled, framing a face that carried an air of dignified serenity tinged with almost monastic calm. Alone, he watched the late-night programming, one hand slipping beneath the loose hem of his white T-shirt — fabric concealing everything, producing not a single sound.
Boys from ordinary families at fifteen had long since understood a great many things.
A sudden shiver ran through him — Getou Suguru's vigilance spiked as he shot a wary glance toward the wall. "Gojo, you haven't sunk low enough to peep on your classmates, have you?"
Gojo Satoru bristled with indignant confidence despite the lack of solid ground. "That's way too harsh — calling me a pervert when you're the one with the problem, Sugu!"
Uncertain of what Gojo Satoru might be doing, Getou Suguru felt a twinge of unease. He switched off the television and muttered under his breath: "No, this won't do — I have to make Gojo respect our privacy."
Gojo Satoru guiltily shifted his gaze away, directing it farther afield — huh, little tangerine was back?
In the world revealed by the Six Eyes, Asou Akiya appeared far more ordinary by comparison.
He would not watch television in the dead of night, nor engage in anything strange — more often than not, he sat at his desk for hours on end, immersed in renowned world classics or cookbooks from various countries.
The black-haired youth who loved reading seemed like a genuinely pure-hearted high school boy — upright and wholesome, making Gojo Satoru conclude that Getou Suguru was indeed far too lewd.
Gojo Satoru abandoned his fledgling curiosity for such explorations, pressing his face into the magazine with puffed lips — full and sensual — while the sharp chemical scent of the printed pages dispelled the restless stirrings sparked by adolescence.
During the daytime, seeing girls stirred not the slightest reaction in him — Shoko was cute, to be sure, but utterly unlovable the moment she made demands.
Mature older women were undoubtedly the best.
Gentle, sophisticated, considerate — unbound by rigid rules, offering smiles to male high schoolers brimming with warm affinity.
Gojo Satoru declared with buoyant optimism: "I'll definitely get a love letter someday…"
A high school boy as handsome and charming as he was — as long as he did not put on airs — would surely attract girls bold enough to approach and ask to share a table.
After a full day apart, Asou Akiya knocked on the door once more — never one to ignore or abandon Gojo Satoru entirely.
Breakfast remained Asou Akiya's responsibility — delivering the meal while gently rousing Gojo Satoru from sleep. He noticed, as Gojo Satoru lifted his wrist to pick up some food, a vivid strawberry-like mark standing out strikingly against the pale snow of his skin. Failing to connect it to the true cause, Asou Akiya instead fetched a bottle of Kobayashi Pharmaceutical's specialized medication.
Asou Akiya coaxed softly: "Roll up your sleeve just a little."
Once Gojo Satoru complied, he carefully applied the anti-itch mosquito repellent lotion, concern evident in his voice as he inquired about daily life: "You didn't put up the Infinity last night, did you? And ended up getting bitten by a mosquito?"
Gojo Satoru's high school life had descended into degeneracy at remarkable speed — he had already learned to lie without hesitation: "Yeah, that's right."
Asou Akiya asked further: "Does it still itch?"
He himself had been bitten by insects earlier that summer and still shuddered at the memory — mosquitoes in the mountains carried potent venom, and once the reaction set in, the pain became almost unbearable.
In that moment, he could not help feeling a pang of sympathy for Gojo Satoru's wrist. Yet he also worried that touching it might introduce bacteria and cause infection — the mosquito bite would swell enormously, almost certainly requiring Ieiri Shoko's treatment.
Asou Akiya stood patiently nearby, waiting and watching. Gojo Satoru finished every bite of breakfast, yet the supposed bite showed no signs of swelling.
Asou Akiya examined the wrist more closely, his brows drawing together in faint confusion.
Gojo Satoru shivered slightly, yanking his hand back with force — refusing to let little tangerine's fingertips continue brushing against the skin there.
"Don't touch me!"
The bristling Gojo Satoru reverted once more to cold, cutting words toward Asou Akiya.
"Fine — I won't touch."
Asou Akiya gathered the dishes and chopsticks, then proceeded to clear out the magazines Gojo Satoru had hidden beneath the bed — utterly disregarding the shocked expression on Gojo Satoru's face as he took control of the intake of such provocative material: "Cut back a little — one per day only. It's better for your mind and body."
From behind him, Gojo Satoru clung to the doorframe and bellowed, "Hey, You come back here!!"
Asou Akiya returned the books to the shared "miscellaneous room," and only then did Gojo Satoru fall silent.
Gojo Satoru felt he had misunderstood — maybe little tangerine wasn't strict at all.
Until —
Asou Akiya placed a lock on the "miscellaneous room."
Gojo Satoru exploded with rage.
That morning in the classroom, Gojo Satoru refused to forgive Asou Akiya's actions — launching yet another cold war between them.
Getou Suguru asked what had happened, but Asou Akiya offered no explanation, merely smiling as he changed the subject: "Suguru, I'll have to trouble you again today to have dinner with Gojo. Teacher Yaga isn't at ease with me — I'll be staying for supplementary lessons after classes end."
"Akiya." Getou Suguru recalled the explosive intuition from yesterday, waves of worry and irritation surging endlessly within him. He proposed something firmly: "Dinner is no problem — but can you make sure he doesn't use the Six Eyes to spy on us at night?"
Asou Akiya pondered for a moment: "I… can try?"
Getou Suguru felt quietly confident in his heart — go ahead and try; he would simply wait for Gojo Satoru to learn the meaning of personal boundaries!
Asou Akiya added, "I always feel you hold unrealistic expectations of me. Let me say this upfront — I can't control Gojo. At best, I can make him slightly hesitant to wreck things out in the open."
Getou Suguru felt a faint dissatisfaction: "Gojo just loves causing chaos — he's never once apologized to me."
Asou Akiya sympathized — it seemed only he and Shoko had ever received apologies from Gojo.
Seeing that Asou Akiya understood him, Getou Suguru's fox-like eyes brimmed with bitter grievance as he voiced his accusations word by word: "Can you even imagine what it's like to be constantly scrutinized? From the inside out — with no privacy at all — and even more frequent than passing through those metal detectors at subway stations!"
Asou Akiya had good reason to suspect Getou Suguru was lumping him into the complaint as well.
From the neighboring seat, Asou Akiya clearly heard Gojo Satoru let out a heavy, disdainful snort through his nose — thoroughly despising Getou Suguru.
…
Several days later, Asou Akiya's intensive, last-minute training finally drew to a close.
Yaga Masamichi entered the classroom with a grave expression on his face — instantly transforming the atmosphere into something unusually tense.
"September 11th — tomorrow, all first-year students will accompany me to Kyoto School, including Ieiri Shoko."
"Remember to prepare your black school uniforms for changing — we will be staying for a full week."
The three male students clad in white uniforms erupted into immediate cheers, completely overlooking whatever else their homeroom teacher might say next. Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru swiftly surrounded their sole female classmate: "Shoko, we'll definitely protect you!"
Yaga Masamichi was rendered momentarily speechless. Ieiri Shoko, however, understood the true reason behind their enthusiasm and chose not to explain — quietly pleased all the same.
"Fine by me — just give it your best."
Ieiri Shoko thought to herself: You won't need my treatment at all — I'm going there to protect Kyoto School's students, you idiots.
Asou Akiya exchanged a knowing smile with Ieiri Shoko.
[Jujutsu High Melon-Eating Duo]
[Asou Akiya: Shoko, remember to pack all the supplies — there's no cafeteria over there, not even a small shop.]
[Ieiri Shoko: Roger that.]
—
Author's Note:
It seems as revealed in the novel version, Getou Suguru tends to prefer girls with whom he shares common interests.