Before the sun slipped beneath the horizon, the two of them finally arrived—unhurried, almost leisurely—and brought the group match to its conclusion.
Faced with Asou Akiya's concern, Gojo Satoru simply handed over his phone. The screen displayed a complete recording from inside the Domain. "Has that much time really passed?" he said in mild surprise. "I didn't feel it at all. Akiya, come on, take a look at my battle footage!"
Getou Suguru narrowed his eyes slightly. "Kyoto School really went to great lengths this time, just to beat us."
Gojo Satoru's laughter rang out from the side. "Akiya, look at this—within a single hour he got hit three times. It hurt so badly he couldn't even see straight."
Getou Suguru: "..."
Asou Akiya rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So the whole thing lasted about an hour? The flow of time inside and outside the Domain wasn't the same. That suggests an extremely rare type of cursed technique."
At the opening of the original story's second season, a cursed labyrinth of this very type had been born in a villa where a family of three committed suicide. Utahime Iori and Mei Mei had thought they were only exploring for a short while, never realizing that two full days had passed and that they had been listed as missing. The sixteen-year-old Gojo Satoru, who came to their rescue, explained to them then that although cursed spirits capable of affecting time were rare, they did occasionally appear.
Getou Suguru pinched the cursed spirit orb in his pocket. The corners of his mouth, which had been pulled down in displeasure, lifted slightly despite themselves.
This rare special-grade imaginary cursed spirit was now his trump card.
Asou Akiya spoke calmly, yet cut straight to the heart of the matter. "That also proves that 'Kokkuri-san' is, at its core, a game that wastes time. Those people who greedily sought to make wishes ended up nurturing a cursed spirit that could never truly grant any of them."
Getou Suguru replied without hesitation, his tone firm and unyielding. "Wishes are something you have to fulfill with your own hands."
Asou Akiya shot him a sidelong glance.
Then he urged him on, his voice brisk. "Getou, what are you waiting for? Hurry up and subjugate it—don't give Kyoto School any excuse to snatch it away."
Getou Suguru looked toward Gojo Satoru uneasily. That guy…
Asou Akiya made a promise, simple and direct. "I'll keep an eye on him for you."
Getou Suguru did not hesitate for even a second. He broke away from the group and ran alone to a distant spot, putting as much space as possible between himself and the others as he went to subjugate the cursed spirit orb.
The bright, carefree grin that had been plastered across Gojo Satoru's face instantly dimmed, like clear skies turning overcast in the blink of an eye. He turned to look at Asou Akiya, his expression openly skeptical. "You? Just you?"
Asou Akiya reached out and caught Gojo Satoru by the wrist, his fingers lingering there, gently rubbing in a soothing, almost intimate motion. His voice softened, warm and coaxing. "Tomorrow is the Moon-Viewing Festival*. How about I make mooncakes for you? Only for you. I'm sure you've never tasted this kind of foreign holiday treat before."
*{Note: It's Tsukimi (月見) or Otsukimi (お月見), meaning, "moon-viewing". It's a Japanese festival honoring the autumn moon, a variant of the Mid-Autumn Festival.}
A numb, tingling sensation spread through Gojo Satoru's wrist. He failed to shake Asou Akiya off, yet stubbornly refused to yield in words. "No way. Don't think you can just bribe me with food. I don't want it. You can make them if you like, but tomorrow night you're coming home with me."
The moment Asou Akiya heard the words "come home," his heart skipped a beat.
[Damn it… hearing something like that out of nowhere.]
The unexpectedly "shy" look that crossed Asou Akiya's face was completely misinterpreted by Gojo Satoru's Six Eyes.
It was as though he had won back a round in their silent exchange. Gojo Satoru reached out in surprise and pinched Asou Akiya's earlobe. "Your ears are red? They're warm, too!"
Asou Akiya lowered his head slightly. "You're seeing things."
Gojo Satoru shot back at once, brimming with confidence. "As if my Six Eyes could ever be wrong."
Asou Akiya felt a surge of helpless resignation. There wasn't much his Six Eyes got wrong—but there were plenty of things they failed to see. One day, you might get sold out and still count the money for me afterward.
[This is bad. This guy doesn't even care about money.]
Asou Akiya tugged Gojo Satoru over to the base of a tree and spoke to him at length, patiently and carefully. "I can't go. I don't want to go, and I have no reason to go. Wait until you become the head of the Gojo family, all right? When that happens, I'll go with Getou and Shoko to visit your hometown."
Gojo Satoru deliberately dragged out his words, feigning exaggerated disappointment. "That means waiting another three years~. That's so far away."
Asou Akiya knew perfectly well that this was sarcasm. Gojo Satoru had absolutely no desire to become the head of the family that quickly.
"Gojo," Asou Akiya asked, "why are you in such a hurry to take me back with you?"
"I'd be bored alone."
"The Gojo household has plenty of people, doesn't it? There should be no shortage of people willing to play games with you."
"They're not the same as you."
"So in your eyes," Asou Akiya said lightly, "I'm different from them?"
"…Huh?"
Gojo Satoru was caught off guard by the question. His mind cleared in an instant, reason sweeping away the faint spark of instinct that boredom had coaxed out of him.
"Akiya is a little tangerine," Gojo Satoru declared, once again lapsing into sheer irrationality. "Little tangerines are supposed to listen to me. Once or twice is fine, but how can you keep refusing every time? I don't want to go home for the festival—just come with me for once."
Asou Akiya's heartbeat finally flatlined.
[Heh.]
With icy composure, Asou Akiya replied, "There are many varieties of tangerines. This one happens to be hard to eat—too sour."
Gojo Satoru froze, staring at him in confusion. "You never used to admit you were a tangerine. Why the sudden change of heart?"
His curiosity toward the one-way Binding Vows Asou Akiya carried for secrecy flared sharply. "Just what kind of 'bindings' did you set, anyway?"
Asou Akiya answered calmly, without hesitation, "If you want to know, I'll tell you everything—every single word, nothing omitted, nothing concealed."
"..."
Gojo Satoru's expression sank into an unnervingly extreme stillness.
Stirred by that reaction—and perhaps also seeking to divert his attention—Asou Akiya spoke again. "While I attend school, I shall never confess my true origins.—"
Before the sentence could be finished, it was forcibly cut off.
Gojo Satoru moved in a flash. His hand shot out and clamped over the lower half of the black-haired boy's face, stopping the words at their source. The force was brutal; Asou Akiya's head was slammed hard into the tree behind him.
Asou Akiya immediately reinforced his head with cursed energy, enduring the blow head-on.
The thick trunk cracked under the impact.
His dark hair was soaked through, blood spilling down from the back of his head and tracing a red line along his neck. For a brief instant, Asou Akiya's vision scattered, but even then his voice remained steady, slow, and deliberate. Beneath Gojo Satoru's palm, he forced the words out with difficulty:
"While I attend school, I shall, as a classmate, help Gojo Satoru learn to live on his own."
Gojo Satoru's fury erupted like magma beneath a glacier. "I told you to shut up! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!"
Through the Six Eyes, the chains of the Binding Vow became painfully clear—sharper, more tangible than ever.
Asou Akiya opened his mouth and bit down.
Gojo Satoru hissed as the soft flesh of his palm flared with pain, reflexively yanking his hand back. He stared at the clear imprint of teeth left behind, disbelief flickering across his face.
Asou Akiya continued, his voice unwavering despite the blood and the pain:
"While I attend school, I shall protect Gojo Satoru's growth."
"His youth is my youth."
"His life is my life."
"I will treasure him more than anyone else, revere the pure soul he was born with."
"I am the one who chases his light; he is my faith in everything beautiful."
"Any sorcerer who harbors malice toward the bearer of the Six Eyes is my enemy."
Gojo Satoru: "..."
Asou Akiya finished quietly, "That's all."
"..."
Asou Akiya slowly raised his hand and pressed it against the back of his head, trying—and failing—to stop the bleeding. "There's nothing shameful or unspeakable about it."
After dealing with the higher-ups at Headquarters, he should have long ago been honest about the three Binding Vows.
For what? To gain trust?
No.
It was merely an attempt to salvage a shred of dignity from the midst of injury and humiliation.
"If I ever break these vows," Asou Akiya continued, swaying slightly as he forced himself to stand steady, "I, Asou Akiya, will die without a grave."
After a head injury, nausea surged violently up his throat, but he refused to show such unbearable weakness in front of Gojo Satoru.
Gritting his teeth, he pressed on. "Gojo, have you heard enough? Are you satisfied now? I'm going to find Ieiri Shoko for treatment. You stay here and wait for Getou."
Gojo Satoru lost all expression, his face settling into a strange stillness where divinity and humanity coexisted uneasily.
There were countless kinds of Binding Vows in this world—countless exchanges of countless compromises made under pressure.
But there had never been one like what he had just heard today.
A declaration so dazzling it hurt to look at.
[My youth is your youth?]
In Gojo Satoru's life, what even counted as "youth"? Was there anything beyond childhood, a growth phase, and an unchallenged peak?
[My soul was born pure?]
To the jujutsu world, Gojo Satoru was the criminal who shattered balance itself.
To curse users, Gojo Satoru was nothing more than a monster.
[You see me as… light? As a faith in everything that is beautiful?]
The questions echoed silently in his mind, one after another, with no answer to be found.
The Gojo clan regarded Gojo Satoru as the "Six Eyes" divine child; without the Six Eyes, Gojo Satoru would not be a divine child at all.
[Why are your thoughts so different from theirs?]
Among the many "tangerine" varieties cultivated by the Gojo family, there had never been a single small tangerine daring enough to bare its teeth and bite back at Gojo Satoru.
Gojo Satoru widened his eyes in helpless confusion. Clouds and mist swirled within those sky-colored pupils, the Eyes of Heaven that could never truly construct a mundane human world. The Six Eyes reflected humanity with perfect clarity, yet their owner could never genuinely share in the feelings of ordinary people. Just like his technique, he was forever separated from the world by an infinite distance.
Gojo Satoru possessed both an innate coldness and a hazy, hard-earned humanity formed afterward. Almost without thinking, he reached out and grabbed the sleeve of Asou Akiya's clothes. The motion resembled the way he pestered others when acting spoiled—slightly forceful, stubbornly refusing to let Asou Akiya leave a range he could touch, a range he could control.
Asou Akiya lowered his eyelids, his expression flat and exhausted, his muscles tense with resistance.
"Gojo," he asked quietly, "what are you trying to do now?"
"Hurts…"
Gojo Satoru's fingers loosened slightly, a faint sting lingering in his palm, as his throat bobbed and, for reasons he himself could not quite explain, he blurted out that single word.
The white-haired boy hurriedly found himself an excuse and muttered awkwardly, "You… you bit me earlier, it hurt." Snow-white bangs slipped down over his brows, his sunglasses slid lower, and beneath them his eyes were laid bare—clear, unguarded, irresistibly striking. Gojo Satoru did not hesitate to use this method to reclaim Asou Akiya's attention.
That gaze had once been gentle, tolerant, and meant for him alone. Beneath his calm exterior, Asou Akiya carried a maturity and consideration that far exceeded appearances.
Bearing the pressure of having done something wrong, Gojo Satoru mustered a commendable amount of courage and said, "I'm going to find Shoko for treatment too."
He could wait for the weird bangs later.
He hadn't protected his little tangerine at all; instead, he had hurt him again and again.
During the Goodwill Event, students from both schools were supposed to stop at measured blows—sparring without crossing the line. And yet now, his own classmates had nearly come to blows with one another. The moment Ieiri Shoko saw Gojo Satoru supporting Asou Akiya, she did not ask a single question. She immediately pulled Asou Akiya away into an empty room on Kyoto High's side, determined not to let the Kyoto students witness the spectacle and turn it into a laughingstock.
Asou Akiya collapsed onto the sofa, his body completely slack, his eyes falling shut the instant he sat down.
Ieiri Shoko cupped both sides of Asou Akiya's head with her hands and focused intently, performing careful, highly precise treatment without allowing herself the slightest distraction.
Only after that did she turn her head. Yaga Masamichi stood nearby, his expression ashen, having already seen through the origin of the injury at a glance. The only one missing was Getou Suguru. Ieiri Shoko's voice turned icy as she spoke, her gaze fixed on the culprit.
"You absolute trash of a classmate—do you have even the slightest bit of consideration left for Asou?"
Gojo Satoru wilted like an eggplant struck by frost, obediently bowing his head and admitting fault.
"I'm sorry. I used too much force. I really was trying to save him—I just used the wrong method."
When he had violently stopped Asou Akiya from revealing the contents of the Binding, it had been because he did not want Asou Akiya, in a moment of impulsive honesty, to violate it. For a jujutsu sorcerer, breaking a Binding was an absolute taboo.
Yet in that instant of viciousness, there had also been a trace of his own punishment directed at his little tangerine.
— Don't you dare threaten me with your life!
— Don't think I'll accept that kind of self-destructive nonsense!
The more Gojo Satoru recalled it, the more he wished he could turn back time and punch himself hard enough to crush that thought before it ever formed.
Ieiri Shoko, unaware of the full sequence of events, narrowed her eyes. "You were trying to save him?"
Gojo Satoru fell silent, words stuck in his throat.
It was obviously the truth—so why did it feel as if, the moment he said it out loud, he would be sentenced to death by his female classmate anyway?
If it had been anyone else, they would already have run out of words, thoroughly cornered by embarrassment, resigned to accepting the label of "scumbag" and enduring the condemnation to the very end. Yet Gojo Satoru was not just anyone. In the shortest possible time, he shook off those useless emotions that could not change the outcome, traced them back, and identified the precise reason he had ended up in this position.
He lifted his gaze, his face hard as ice, fearless in the face of anything.
"Akiya," Gojo Satoru said evenly, "you wanted me to regret it. Congratulations—you succeeded."
"I believe in the vows you swore."
"And so—"
"Are you willing to accept my apology? From now on, I won't look at you as some kind of little tangerine anymore."
Someone who could venture alone into a forest crawling with cursed spirits, clash head-on with students from Kyoto Jujutsu High, and come out bearing not only a head injury but countless other marks of battle—such a person had never been a tangerine that the Gojo family could cage and protect for an entire lifetime.
In that instant, an overwhelming amount of understanding fell into place for Gojo Satoru. His head throbbed dully, but his words were sincere as they left his mouth.
"I used to not understand what friends really meant. It was you and Getou who made me realize that it's not something simple at all. Making friends is just as important as chasing a dream. It's something two people have to be willing to swear to, from the heart."
Ieiri Shoko stared at him, stunned. What on earth was Gojo talking about?
Yaga Masamichi's anger ground to an abrupt halt, a string of invisible question marks practically popping up over his head.
Asou Akiya remained silent. His dense eyelashes lowered, veiling both his weakened gaze and the deep confusion hidden beneath it. All this time, he had viewed Gojo Satoru's behavior through a fundamentally negative lens, and that made it difficult for him to fully process or accept the sudden change now unfolding before him.
The confidence he had painstakingly built up was on the verge of being completely dismantled by Gojo Satoru's relentless willfulness.
Today's outburst was a rebound born from long-suppressed endurance.
"Akiya."
"I don't want to be 'light.' I don't want to be someone else's faith or belief—there's nothing interesting about that kind of role."
"I swear that I will never again force you the way I did today."
"So… can we be friends?"
For Asou Akiya, Gojo Satoru lowered his head—once. Not only in a physical sense, but psychologically as well. He no longer postured or stood on ceremony, but is simply doing what a classmate ought to do, plain and straightforward.
He was not a clay idol molded to be worshipped. He was Gojo Satoru, a teenage boy at Tokyo Jujutsu High who had just stepped into adolescence.
And Asou Akiya was a friend he had chosen for himself.
Not merely someone bound to him by family, fate, or obligation.
…
After searching everywhere without finding the two of them, Getou Suguru finally rushed back from far away—only to hear these words and feel as though he had been struck by lightning.
They had joined forces to defeat a special-grade cursed spirit, secured victory in the first day of the Goodwill Event's team match, and he himself was now only a single step away from promotion to special-grade sorcerer. Three great pieces of good fortune stacked together—by all rights, this should have been a day of pure celebration, one that would have left Getou Suguru smiling from dawn to dusk even after forcibly swallowing a cursed spirit orb.
And yet—
The one who had promised to become Asou Akiya's very first sorcerer friend… was me. It was me!!
Gojo, on what grounds did you steal my place?! Just because you're good-looking?!
—
Author's Note:
After one o'clock in the morning, Quan Quan had already updated up through Chapter 68 and gone to bed to sleep. But the brain refused to settle down—ideas for the next chapter kept bubbling up, one after another, refusing to be ignored.
So, in order to capture those flashes of inspiration, Quan Quan got up again, turned on the computer, and opened a new document. Originally, the plan was just to jot down an outline for the next chapter, but then came the thought: since I'm already here, why not just write the opening of the next chapter instead?
And so it went—line by line, sentence by sentence—until it was already past four in the morning.
Before realizing it, Quan Quan had actually written an entire chapter, and was absurdly delighted by it!
Good night, everyone!
Please come out and say hello, don't just lurk in silence. Give Quan Quan a little bit of writing motivation!
—Yu Wei