September 17—the Jujutsu High Sister-School Goodwill Event begins.
The students from both schools gathered to meet one another. On the Kyoto School side, the students looked visibly unwell, their faces drained of color, yet they forced themselves to straighten up and put on a brave front.
Facing them were three boys who broke with the long-standing tradition of black uniforms. They were dressed entirely in white, and at their chests were identical golden vortex-shaped buttons—symbols of their status as orthodox Jujutsu High students, recognized and protected by the rule system of Japan's jujutsu society.
The white-haired boy laughed lightly and teased, "Doesn't it feel like time flies? In the blink of an eye, it's already the exchange match."
The boy with his hair tied in a round bun had a relatively unfamiliar face, yet his way of speaking was infuriatingly sharp. "Gojo, you'd better treasure this chance to come to Kyoto," he said lazily. "You won't have many opportunities like this in the future. According to the exchange match rules, whichever school wins this year gets to host it next time."
The white-haired boy began counting on his fingers, expression casual. "Next year, the year after that, the year after that, and even the year after that again—it'll all be Tokyo's turn."
The bun-haired boy nodded. "Exactly."
The third boy, with short black hair, said nothing. He was slightly shorter, and at a glance, he seemed far more harmless than the two who were openly mocking everyone.
However—every single Kyoto School student remembered perfectly well that he had been among the onlookers during that massive brawl.
Worse still, that guy had even taken out his phone and started taking pictures.
Pure, unerasable black history!
At that moment, Yaga Masamichi's booming voice rang out from the broadcast system. "Today is the sister-school team competition. Both sides, depart immediately and enter the designated forest for the trial. Listen carefully—this year's theme is 'Exorcise Curses, Understand Your Companions, and Act Within Your Limits.' The rules are as follows: whichever school's team first exorcises the only special-grade cursed spirit within the designated area will be declared the winner. If both sides abandon the attempt to exorcise the special-grade cursed spirit, then victory will be determined by the total number of cursed spirits of other grades exorcised!"
"The match will last until sunset today!"
The moment the Kyoto students finished listening, their faces turned a sickly shade of green. This was the first time the exchange event had ever been this dangerous.
A special-grade cursed spirit!
The higher-ups really thought far too highly of these students who had yet to graduate.
Because the Kyoto School students had received advance notice, although the situation sent chills down their spines, they were, on the whole, relatively composed. All they could do was pray that the special-grade cursed spirit would not break free and go on a murderous rampage. Having planned ahead, they had no intention whatsoever of attempting to exorcise the special-grade cursed spirit. Instead, they chose to gamble on Tokyo School failing before sunset, while they themselves would sweep through and exorcise every cursed spirit below special grade, winning by sheer numbers.
This was their last remaining chance.
By contrast, they were well aware that the "Six Eyes" on the Tokyo School side would definitely go after the special-grade cursed spirit. The gaze of the strong is forever drawn toward even greater strength; the weak band together, and more often than not, such cooperation is nothing more than a helpless strategy for survival.
At the outskirts of the forest, thick with the presence of cursed energy, the gravel paths were uneven and difficult to traverse.
"Asou, let's slow down a bit. There's no need to rush," Getou Suguru said, careful not to place unnecessary pressure on his classmate.
"Alright." Asou Akiya dodged the hand Gojo Satoru reached out toward him and moved to stand behind Getou.
"I've already spotted the special-grade cursed spirit! Its cursed energy is ridiculously obvious!" Gojo was eager to dash off and challenge the special-grade head-on, but Getou stubbornly refused to pick up the pace. His unhurried, almost protective manner—clearly prioritizing a fellow student—left Gojo seething with impatience.
"Getou, time is everything in a match. I'll take care of Akiya," Gojo said, reaching for Asou once more.
"No," Getou blocked him. "We're not pressed for time. If you drag him straight into a frontal charge like that, it means Asou will have to endure the oppressive presence of a special-grade cursed spirit head-on. You wouldn't stop to consider how that feels for him. It's better if I bring him closer gradually—once he adapts, Asou will gain far more experience dealing with high-grade cursed spirits."
Getou's reasoning was perfectly sound, yet somehow it felt as though Gojo had just been scolded.
With a deeply displeased expression, Gojo said, "Akiya, don't you trust my technique? I can block that pressure for you."
Asou Akiya, who was looking forward to seeing a legendary special-grade cursed spirit for himself, sided with Getou's approach. "Getou's method suits me best. You can block it once—but can you block a lifetime of special-grade cursed spirits for me?"
Gojo replied without hesitation, "Then you can just stay behind me for your entire life."
Gojo Satoru said, "You can just stay behind me for your entire life."
Asou Akiya and Getou Suguru promptly quickened their pace, leaving Gojo behind as they walked ahead together, openly discussing a certain someone's overbearing arrogance.
"I can't bear to watch this anymore," Getou said, covering his eyes.
"Look on the bright side—at least that guy has a strong sense of martial virtue and barely understands the concept of protecting people," Asou Akiya sighed.
"He's really awful to you. You should rely on me instead, from now on," Getou said, deliberately sowing discord.
"Are you a special grade already?" Asou shot back without hesitation.
"Soon," Getou replied. He focused his senses on the direction where cursed energy was densest and most sinister, his gaze sharp with killing intent—nothing like the leisurely attitude Gojo had imagined him to have. "If luck's on my side, I might absorb a special-grade cursed spirit today."
"Lower your voice," Asou warned him.
With a straight face, Getou said, "There's no way Gojo would go back on his word. Once he agrees to help me, he'll see it through to the end."
Hearing the conversation ahead, Gojo—who had been on the verge of developing a rebellious streak—held his breath.
Right. He had made a promise to Getou.
Gojo wrestled with himself for a moment.
[Damn it, I only said that offhand at the time. Now I can't go and sabotage things.]
Inside one of Kyoto School's conference rooms, the walls were plastered with sheets of paper covered in incantations—curse talismans. Each sheet corresponded to a specific cursed spirit within the designated area. Once a cursed spirit was successfully exorcised, its talisman would ignite, and the color of the flame would reflect the cursed energy of the team member responsible, making it impossible to misattribute a kill.
"Kyoto School: two third-year students, two second-year students, and three first-year students."
"Tokyo School: three first-year students."
"After all students' cursed energy has been registered, in accordance with convention, Kyoto School will be marked in blue, and Tokyo School in red."
An assistant supervisor stood against the wall of the conference room and explained the procedures once more to the instructors from both schools. The teachers from Kyoto School were, for the most part, semi–Grade 1 jujutsu sorcerers; truly capable Grade 1 sorcerers rarely chose to remain at a school, preferring instead to work in the field where their strength could be fully exercised.
Yaga Masamichi was an exception—an anomaly born of his genuine love for education. He sat not far from the principal of Kyoto School, his posture relaxed yet attentive, as though he were more concerned with the students' growth than with the outcome of the competition itself.
Ten minutes after the Goodwill Event officially began, one of the talismans pasted on the wall suddenly ignited.
The assistant supervisor stared in shock. "So fast! The first cursed spirit has already been exorcised—it's blue flames!"
Gakuganji Yoshinobu spoke calmly, his voice steady and unhurried. "That would be Kyoto School."
Yaga Masamichi, sensing the tension that could easily arise between students because of this competition, attempted to smooth things over. "Principal Gakuganji, your students are certainly full of drive."
The three homeroom teachers from Kyoto School exchanged helpless looks. It wasn't as though their students had much choice in the matter. Before the event, the principal of Kyoto School had issued a clear order: they were to give everything they had to exorcising cursed spirits below special grade. Otherwise, when the time came to advance their sorcerer rankings, the difficulty of their evaluations would be increased across the board, and they would be labeled as useless failures—people who collapsed the moment they faced a truly powerful enemy.
In the northeastern corner of the forest, three figures advanced steadily. With every step closer, they could feel the density of cursed energy in the air rising, pressing down on their senses like an invisible weight.
A special-grade cursed spirit was akin to the lord of a domain, its presence tyrannical and overwhelming. It devoured the weak, and once it came into existence, it rarely strayed far from its territory. In regions claimed by such a being, other cursed spirits of lesser grades almost never survived.
"The difference between a special-grade cursed spirit and a Grade 1 lies in that word—'special,'" someone explained in a low voice. "A very small number of them are even capable of developing intelligence."
"Pay close attention to its cursed technique," another warned, "and to its terrifying regenerative ability."
"I'll stop here."
Asou Akiya halted at the point where even breathing had become difficult, his chest tightening under the oppressive pressure. The cursed energy in the air scraped against his lungs with every inhale, making it clear that this was as far as he could safely go—for now.
The total amount of cursed energy he possessed was worlds apart from that of a special-grade cursed spirit. It felt as though he had stepped into a high-altitude plateau—oxygen deprivation, palpitations, accelerated heartbeat, and the stiffness creeping into his limbs were all induced side effects. Every step forward was an act of torment inflicted upon his own body.
His reason drew a clear line for him.
He could not become a burden to Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru.
"Are you really going to stop here?" Gojo said, hands tucked casually into his pockets as he strolled along behind them. He hopped over a fallen branch and stopped in front of Asou Akiya, looking down at him from above, his gaze settling on the pale-faced boy he teasingly thought of as their "little orange."
The gap in strength was obvious at a glance.
Even with his eyes partially hidden behind dark lenses, Gojo's gaze was as piercing as ever. "Kind of a shame," he said lightly. "If you give up this chance, you'll never get to see me and Getou fight side by side again."
In his usual careless tone, Gojo added, "Take a few more steps forward. You might even get a pleasant surprise."
Asou Akiya was momentarily bewitched by Gojo's voice—a voice that dismissed danger as if it were nothing. It was as though the will of a true powerhouse had been injected straight into his veins, stirring within him a yearning to step into that dizzying, godlike world beyond.
No plan, just impulse?
What awaited him ahead—an overwhelming visual feast of battle, or an unknown innate domain?
Suddenly, he calmed down.
His hand moved to the sword-shaped cursed tool at his waist. If Gojo Satoru represented a dream, then those who chased dreams would inevitably fix their eyes on the distant sky. How many traps would they have to tread upon in this lifetime before avoiding total destruction?
"I have things I can do," Asou Akiya said quietly. "For example, exorcising other cursed spirits."
"Yaga-sensei isn't just waiting for you," he continued evenly. "He's also waiting for me to ignite the first talisman."
Asou Akiya spoke words that neither of them could refute.
There were Grade 1 cursed spirits lurking in the forest. Getou Suguru summoned a small, quasi–Grade 1 cursed spirit and sent it toward Asou Akiya, intending for it to accompany him and act as support. However, Asou Akiya shook his head and refused.
He would walk this path on his own.
Asou Akiya said, "Getou, it's difficult for you to remotely control high-level cursed spirits. Rather than wasting a portion of your precious combat strength, it would be better to give me a Grade 3 cursed spirit to act as my little tail."
In his view, every cursed spirit had its own purpose. A cursed spirit that was too powerful would instinctively drive away other, lower-grade cursed spirits, disrupting the balance of the area instead of helping him.
Asou Akiya continued calmly, "If anything unexpected happens, you'll immediately receive notification that it has been exorcised."
After careful selection, Getou Suguru chose a small, bird-shaped Grade 3 cursed spirit and let it perch on Asou Akiya's shoulder. A cursed spirit's ability to sense other cursed spirits far surpassed that of a human sorcerer, and Getou hoped that this one would help Asou Akiya avoid any cursed spirits of semi–Grade 2 or higher.
With everything prepared perfectly and no lingering worries left behind, Asou Akiya withdrew after experiencing the oppressive pressure at close range.
The two who remained behind stepped just as swiftly into the territory of the special-grade cursed spirit.
Different kinds of battles erupted simultaneously.
Inside the meeting room, the second, third, and fourth talismans were ignited in succession by blue flames. Yaga Masamichi's expression darkened as he cursed inwardly, calling them "those damn brats." He was clearly dissatisfied with Tokyo Jujutsu High's current zero score, caused by Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru's sky-high standards and refusal to engage lesser opponents. If this dragged on and they failed to exorcise the special-grade cursed spirit, Tokyo would lose the match outright.
Unable to hide his concern, Yaga asked, "Principal Gakuganji, what exactly is the cursed technique of that special-grade cursed spirit?"
Gakuganji Yoshinobu replied calmly, "There's no harm in telling you now. It's a newly registered special-grade cursed spirit, the special-grade imaginary cursed spirit 'Kokkuri-san,' born from the folk game of summoning Kokkuri-san. Its information hasn't been made public yet. Its cursed technique is 'Hypnosis.' The stronger a person's desires are, the more easily they fall victim to it. Once someone enters the domain it deploys, the afflicted must make wishes to 'Kokkuri-san' one after another. The greater the wish, the stronger the backlash; the smaller the wish, the safer it is."
Cold sweat broke out across Yaga Masamichi's back.
A non–direct-attack cursed technique, capable of domain expansion, with a guaranteed-hit effect.
[Asou, whatever you do, don't get involved in this…!]
After a short while, one of the talismans ignited with red flames.
Yaga Masamichi let out a long breath, his shoulders finally relaxing. "It's one of ours—someone from Tokyo has exorcised a Grade 3 cursed spirit."
Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru would never bother dealing with a mere Grade 3 cursed spirit. That meant Asou Akiya, having separated from the team, had made his move.
In the back row of seats, Ieiri Shoko—who had been looking down at her phone—lifted her head to glance at the burning talisman, and in the same motion, forwarded the information about the special-grade cursed spirit to the appropriate recipient.
The old fossils of Kyoto Jujutsu High understood the significance of information warfare—and Ieiri Shoko understood it just as well.
[Jujutsu High Same-Year Quartet]
[Ieiri Shoko: This is as much as I can help you guys. Good luck.]
[Asou Akiya: Received.]
[Ieiri Shoko: Are you busy? Why haven't those two replied to me?]
[Asou Akiya: I'm not particularly busy. I'm selecting suitable cursed spirits to exorcise. They've probably already stepped into the domain.]
[Ieiri Shoko: Oh wow, that's unfortunate. Their signal must've been cut off by the special-grade cursed spirit's domain, so they missed the crucial intel.]
[Asou Akiya: That's precisely why the Kyoto principal was willing to give Yaga-sensei some face.]
[Ieiri Shoko: Old fox.]
[Asou Akiya: Exactly. Be ready to provide support at any time. I'm worried Getou might get injured.]
[Ieiri Shoko: You're not worried about Gojo falling for it instead?]
[Asou Akiya: Don't let his loud, outgoing personality fool you. His desires in many areas might actually be far lower than one would expect.]
[Ieiri Shoko: So what you're saying is… Getou is secretly a pervert?]
[Asou Akiya:Cough, cough! Shoko, watch it—this is the four-person group chat, not a private channel!]
[Ieiri Shoko: …Ah. Can I retract that?]
Ieiri Shoko's hand slipped slightly as she stared at the screen, and in her mind surfaced Getou Suguru's trademark narrow-eyed smile.
Bad news: she had accidentally offended one of her peers.
Good news: that same peer still owed her a favor—one that could only be settled after he finished his duties as a drinking companion, at which point she could quietly collect her due.