HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!
The world feels increasingly unsteady, with the shadow of war lingering on the horizon and uncertainty pressing in from every direction. Still, even in times like these, I believe we deserve to grasp at small moments of warmth—a brief, fragile distractions that remind us why we endure at all.
Happiness may be fleeting, but that is precisely what makes it worth celebrating.
So, for this New Year, I'm bringing you bonus updates!
May this year grant us at least a few moments that feel gentle.
"Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final."
- [Go to the Limits of Your Longing], by Rainer Maria Rilke
_________
Today was the weekend, and it was also Tsukimi, Japan's Moon-Viewing Festival.
Gojo Satoru left very quickly.
After the competition ended, Asou Akiya remained in the kitchen, busy from beginning to end, preparing the food for the evening gathering.
Ieiri Shoko scribbled a shopping note for Getou Suguru: "I want a whole case of beer and one carton of cigarettes. Don't buy the wrong brands."
"So troublesome…" Getou Suguru muttered, holding his phone in one hand. After scrolling through the chat history of the [Tokyo Jujutsu High Same-Year Quartet], he smiled at Ieiri Shoko and said, "Shoko, there's no need to write it on paper. Wouldn't it be more convenient to just post it in the four-person group chat?"
Ieiri Shoko paused for a beat, then spoke as if she hadn't heard him at all. "Asou, do you still need any ingredients?"
Asou Akiya answered calmly, fully prepared in every respect except for the actual cooking. "I placed all the orders yesterday. There's nothing missing. You two can handle things yourselves. This is our last night staying over at Kyoto Jujutsu High. Once we finish celebrating tonight, we'll be heading back to school for classes tomorrow."
Asou Akiya set about making mooncakes and dango. The process itself was not particularly complicated—these were seasonal treats with detailed tutorials readily available online.
Getou Suguru took on the task of buying the beer and cigarettes. He took off atop a cursed spirit, and the Rainbow Dragon flew brazenly through the sky. As he looked down over Kyoto Jujutsu High from above, he spotted, from a distance, the luxury car that had come to pick up Gojo Satoru.
At the same time, the rear window of the luxury car slowly rolled down.
The white-haired boy sitting inside did not reveal his face, maintaining the air of a mysterious young heir from an elite family. He simply extended one arm out of the window.
In Getou Suguru's direction, that arm raised a single, unmistakable middle finger.
Getou Suguru's temper flared instantly. "Gojo!"
Just as Getou Suguru was about to command the Rainbow Dragon to dive straight down, a red glow flared at the tips of Gojo Satoru's fingers.
Getou Suguru turned the Rainbow Dragon aside as if nothing had happened. "My schedule's tight. I need to go shopping. I can't waste time fooling around with him."
It was absolutely not because he felt sorry for his flying cursed spirit—he had an actual task to carry out!
The moment he realized that he would not have to see Gojo Satoru again for the rest of the evening, Getou Suguru's mood instantly brightened. He saw through the reason behind that raised middle finger at once. That idiot wanted to drag him into trouble, provoke Kyoto Jujutsu High, and make sure no one else could enjoy the festival in peace!
—
Kyoto, the Gojo Estate.
From early morning, the attendants responsible for ceremonial duties had already begun preparing the welcoming rites.
The vehicle stopped at the outer entrance, and Gojo Satoru proceeded on foot into the estate, covering several kilometers on his own. The path was long and layered: stone-paved roads, ascending steps, vermilion torii gates, weathered walls and narrow corridors. Stone lanterns lined both sides of the route at irregular intervals. Multiple layers of barriers hovered above the Gojo Estate, forming an irregular lattice of cursed energy fluctuations that cleanly separated two worlds with entirely different atmospheres.
This place was pristine. There were no flyheads, no wandering traces of curses. All cursed spirits were sealed away in the cursed spirit repository. Every servant possessed cursed energy and knew how to control it properly, ensuring that no new curses were ever born here. When they caught sight of Gojo Satoru, they bowed deeply and retreated to the sides.
"Divine Child—"
The first servant to address him that way was halted by a single icy glance from Gojo Satoru, after which everyone promptly pretended they had lost the ability to speak.
"Satoru-sama, welcome home."
Before the ancient, dignified courtyard, the head of the Gojo family had been waiting for a long time.
With a gentle wave of his hand, attendants carrying washing implements stepped forward one after another, followed by maids holding neatly prepared new garments.
One of the Gojo family's greatest challenges revealed itself once more: somehow making Satoru-sama remember proper etiquette and complete the full sequence of festival rituals.
"So annoying," Gojo Satoru said the moment they met, his mood laid bare. Using the Limitless technique, he shoved aside the maids blocking his path, paying no mind to the delicate utensils trembling on their trays. Coming home was nothing more than a token gesture of respect toward the Gojo family.
He kicked off his Jujutsu High shoes and stepped into the corridor. White cotton socks covered his feet, and as he walked across the polished floor, he left not a single footprint behind.
A maid hurried after him, carrying a pair of plain, immaculate indoor shoes in her hands.
Everyone in the Gojo estate was long accustomed to this scene. The day the Divine Child obediently followed instructions would be the day red rain fell from the sky. A willful, self-centered Divine Child like this was precisely the result of the Gojo family's collective indulgence.
From behind him, the head of the Gojo family spoke at an unhurried pace, "The Moon-Viewing Festival is meant for reunion. The household has prepared a variety of dango for tonight. Is there any particular flavor you would like to eat? If you say so now, there is still time to have the kitchen make it for you…"
With a sharp thud, the sliding door was pulled shut, cutting off the head of the family mid-sentence.
Through the silhouette cast on the paper screen, the head of the Gojo family could tell that Gojo Satoru had gone to bathe and cleanse himself after all.
Half an hour later, Gojo Satoru sat on the tatami in a white yukata. White hair, white robes, snow-pale skin with a faint, lustrous glow—he looked like a moon-viewing Divine Child steeped in hot-spring mist, the moonlight outside harmonizing perfectly with the brilliance of the Six Eyes. A maid attempted to trim his nails for him, only to be waved off impatiently. He took the clippers himself and began cutting them one by one, each nail ending up flawlessly shaped.
The crisp click, click of the clippers echoed repeatedly, oddly down-to-earth.
The maid silently cleaned the tatami, gathering up the nail clippings—things that, under normal circumstances, would never be left to fall freely—taking care of the remnants for Satoru-sama.
The head of the Gojo family nodded in satisfaction. "Your standard of living on your own seems to have improved."
Gojo Satoru's aggressiveness flared unexpectedly. He bent one knee, lifted his brow, and his contrarian streak asserted itself. "What, you thought going to Tokyo Jujutsu High would turn me into some useless idiot who can't even take care of himself?"
The head of the Gojo family ignored the provocation and asked calmly, "You seem to be in a good mood. May I ask whether you usually cook for yourself these days?"
Gojo Satoru: "..."
Damn it, which eye of yours sees me being in a good mood?!
"Talking to you is exhausting," Gojo Satoru snapped irritably. "Can you just shut up already?"
The head of the Gojo family calmly withdrew a yellowed, ancient tome from his sleeve and placed it in front of Gojo Satoru. The moment he saw it, Gojo Satoru understood that the Gojo household had already received intelligence from the Jujutsu High sister-school goodwill match. "News really does travel fast."
He opened the old book. Inside were records of the reversed technique Red, followed by its advanced evolution, Purple.
The room fell quiet, filled only with the soft rustle of turning pages.
Before the weight of knowledge, his dissatisfaction was quietly pressed down.
After waiting a moment, the head of the Gojo family spoke again, deliberately softening the atmosphere. "In a thousand years, among the Six Eyes who have mastered both Blue and Red at the tender age of fifteen, you are the first." He would never belittle Gojo Satoru; he would always support him in climbing toward the summit. "Once you also learn Reverse Cursed Technique, no one in the entire jujutsu world will be able to stand against you."
Because Gojo Satoru had mastered the reversed technique Red, the upper echelons of the Gojo family were beside themselves with joy. This meant he had stepped into the domain of 'negative plus negative' cursed energy. Take just one step further, and he would grasp the profound and unfathomable Reverse Cursed Technique, truly placing Gojo Satoru upon the throne of the strongest sorcerer of the modern era.
As for the Headquarter's rankings?
They no longer mattered. The Gojo family would not need to apply for anything; in the future, the Headquarter would inevitably come knocking of their own accord, offering him certification as a Special Grade sorcerer.
Gojo Satoru looked utterly uninterested. He had heard this sort of praise so many times that his ears might as well have grown calluses.
Tossing the ancient book aside after finishing it, he said, "Adding cursed energy is no problem. Multiplying it will take a bit more time."
The head of the Gojo family smiled with satisfaction. "Reverse Cursed Technique can heal the body. After you master cursed energy multiplication, you might consider repairing your brain as well. It is said that doing so will allow you to use the Limitless technique with far greater ease."
Gojo Satoru did not tell him that he had already tried exactly that with Ieiri Shoko.
It felt insanely good.
Although, recently, he had managed to offend that kind-hearted female classmate.
Gojo Satoru slowly closed his hand, the lingering sting in his palm serving as a reminder—those three were definitely enjoying the festival right now.
"…Do we have mooncakes at home?"
"If you require it, simply give the order," came the respectful reply. "The Gojo family has everything."
"Boring. I don't feel like eating anymore."
Gojo Satoru stood at the very peak of an icy, rigid hierarchy, and yet even at its highest point, there was no joy to be found.
"Your emotions have become more pronounced," the head of the Gojo family observed. He lifted Gojo Satoru's wrist and tied a red cord around it. For Lord Satoru, a charm meant purely for blessing—one without any cursed energy—held more meaning than any cursed tool ever could.
The head of the Gojo family studied the red cord carefully. "Has the outside world made you feel any less bored?"
Gojo Satoru replied, "It has. Would that make you sad?"
A malicious smile spread across his face, as though, if the Gojo family head answered "yes," he would immediately say something even more cutting.
"It would not," the head of the Gojo family said calmly. "On a personal level, I am pleased to see it. As long as you continue to grow stronger, the Gojo family's gratitude toward Tokyo Jujutsu High will deepen with each passing day."
Gojo Satoru said coldly, "You're starting to sound more and more like a rotten tangerine. The stench of decay is practically leaking out."
The head of the Gojo family reached out to brush a hand over the wrist adorned with the red cord, only to be instantly repelled by the Limitless technique.
—Huh?
He did not miss the ferocity of Gojo Satoru's reaction.
Gojo Satoru stepped back, glaring at him, his tone sharp and aggressive. "What the hell do you think you're doing, touching my wrist for no reason?"
With a perfectly straight face, the head of the Gojo family replied, "…I intended to check your pulse. You have consecutively participated in the exchange matches hosted by Kyoto Jujutsu High, and the exertion has been considerable. After returning home, you have shown signs of excess liver fire. I am quite concerned. If you do not trust my medical skill, I can summon the family's old physician."
Gojo Satoru said skeptically, "I don't feel like I've overexerted myself at all."
And yet this so-called excess liver fire was obviously a symptom brought on by the stress of being forcibly hauled back to the Gojo household at your command, wasn't it?
"Don't let people touch me whenever they feel like it," Gojo Satoru snapped. "I hate skin-to-skin contact."
"Very well. Then would it be acceptable to take your pulse through a handkerchief?"
"…Fine."
Coaxed into it, Gojo Satoru reluctantly agreed.
Not long after, the head of the Gojo family stepped away for a short while and returned with the elderly physician whom Gojo Satoru had known since childhood. The old doctor studied Gojo Satoru's complexion, but under the pressure of the Six Eyes, he dared not stare for long. His gaze slid downward instead, carefully noting the subtle changes in Gojo Satoru before and after leaving home.
The old physician took Gojo Satoru's pulse through a handkerchief, his fingertips cautious and reverent, as though attending to a princess of the imperial household, one who was never meant to come into contact with unrelated men.
Standing to the side, the head of the Gojo family wanted to laugh but did not dare to.
My lord, aren't you supposed to be a trendsetter? How is it that after one trip outside, you've come home with an even more conservative air than before?
Exploding at the slightest touch—this simply won't do. A normal young man ought to have more exposure to society.
…Wait. Does Tokyo Jujutsu High even offer health education classes?
The head of the Gojo family fell into thought.
When the old physician finished and stepped out, he cast the head of the Gojo family a look that clearly said, You were right. The head of the Gojo family blinked subtly in response, signaling for him to go and inform the elders of the Gojo family. After all, concerns over Lord Satoru's delayed physical development were hardly his alone.
The Six Eyes' divine child had grown up.
This was the second great piece of joyous news for the Gojo family.
That night, as Gojo Satoru drank the medicinal cuisine prepared for him, he finally understood what these people were plotting.
"A pile of weird, disgusting books," Gojo Satoru said, pretending he could not recognize the erotic illustrations for what they were. His face twisted in open revulsion as he kicked over the low table and stuffed sweet dumplings into his mouth, trying to drown out the lingering bitterness of the herbal medicine meant to "nourish the body."
"I don't want to look at this! It's ugly as hell! What are you all trying to do—are you perverts or something?!"
Gojo Satoru threw a full-blown tantrum.
He was firmly convinced that he was a DK—pure in both body and mind.
"Replace all the attendants!" Gojo Satoru declared, solving his worries in one sweeping order. "Just seeing them pisses me off!"
Under the weight of Gojo Satoru's furious outburst, the Gojo household was thrown into complete chaos, servants scattering in every direction.
After devouring several of his favorite cream-filled dumplings in one go, utterly disappointed with the Gojo family's idea of a festival atmosphere, he leapt onto the highest point of the roof. Fixing his gaze in the direction of Kyoto Jujutsu High, he vanished into the night beneath the full moon.
Elsewhere, three people were drinking beer, eating skewers, mooncakes, and dumplings while admiring the moon—when, without warning, a divine child dropped straight down from the moonlit sky.
The white-haired boy in a bathrobe seemed like a being who could command wind and rain at will. Without relying on any external support, he descended into the mortal world, landing barefoot in the very center of a table piled high with food, stopping just centimeters short of the sharp bamboo skewers.
Beautiful as the scene was, reality quickly asserted itself before the students of Tokyo Jujutsu High.
Getou Suguru: "My skewers…"
Ieiri Shoko: "My beer…"
Asou Akiya reached out and tugged down the hem of Gojo Satoru's bathrobe, discreetly blocking those shockingly long legs.
"Careful—you're about to flash someone."
After settling Gojo Satoru into his seat, Asou Akiya pressed a round mooncake into his hand. It was still warm, its rich fragrance lingering, a flavor entirely different from the dumplings of the Moon Viewing Festival. "Here. Try it while it's hot."
Gojo Satoru promptly forgot all the irritation from earlier that day and, with his usual thick-skinned cheerfulness, started eating with gusto.
"Akiya, I've got a new gift for you!"
Suddenly remembering something, Gojo Satoru yanked off the old red cord tied around Asou Akiya's right wrist, then stripped off his own new red cord and slipped it over Akiya's hand instead. The hand was smaller than his by a full circle, the bones slender and delicate.
"Don't be mad at me," Gojo Satoru said, rattling things off with uncharacteristic attentiveness. "I know Shoko likes cosmetics and handbags, and Getou likes video games and Digimon figures, but I don't know what you like. Books don't count—you can buy those yourself."
The white-haired boy, usually oblivious to such matters, spoke of things he would once have ignored entirely.
A faint smile lingered in Asou Akiya's eyes.
He listened as Gojo Satoru spoke in a voice buoyant with happiness, drifting almost into something airy and unfocused.
"This one's special—mine alone. A red cord blessed by the entire Gojo family, with not a single trace of cursed energy in it."
"If you don't want my Six Eyes paying attention to you, then take it off."
"When I say something, I mean it."
Gojo Satoru hooked a finger under his lower eyelid and pulled it down, half like he was making a face, half like he was deliberately widening those glittering, sky-blue eyes to an exaggerated, dazzling extent.
A face at the absolute pinnacle of beauty needed no smile at all; it was already breathtaking enough to leave one shaken.
"Even if you have secrets, that's fine too~."
The smile on Asou Akiya's face slowly faded, and an indescribable chill crept up his spine.
Was this a warning from the Six Eyes, or Gojo Satoru's intuition?
He was being frightening again…
Getou Suguru suddenly reached out, snatched the old red cord, pulled it over to his side, and without a moment's hesitation put it on himself. "Many thanks—I need a red cord too."
Gojo Satoru! Do you remember that there are two male classmates here who also deserve a right to privacy?
"What is it, Getou?" Gojo Satoru twisted his head around and fired off a sharp retort. "What are you, a shy little girl?"
Hearing that, Ieiri Shoko realized that Gojo Satoru had once again ignored her entirely.
Very good. Someone was showing off.
Ieiri Shoko said, "Asou, don't you think it's strange? Two guys wearing the exact same red cord."
Asou Akiya's hand, which had been carefully cherishing the cord, froze mid-motion.
Getou Suguru, on the other hand, said casually, "I get stared at by passersby even when I wear earrings. If I just cover my wrist with my sleeve, it's fine."
Silently, Asou Akiya took off the red cord and slipped it into his pocket, then asked Gojo Satoru, "Does this count as carrying it with me?"
Gojo Satoru blinked. "Huh?"
He was genuinely confused—why had the other party suddenly stopped liking it?
Yet when his gaze met those clear, obsidian-black eyes shining softly beneath the moonlight, all of his unspoken questions were swallowed up by the warmth and noise of the four of them gathered together for the festival.
"Do whatever you want," he said lightly.
The Six Eyes were a passive ability; the only thing Gojo Satoru could do was make an effort to give the two of them as much privacy as possible.
So this was what people called an obligation between classmates?
Not bad at all.