The Outskirts of Tokyo Jujutsu High
They didn't warp directly into the school. Gojo explained that the school was surrounded by a complex barrier system, Tengen's Barrier, and warping blindly inside could trigger alarms or get them lost in a corridor of infinite fractals.
Instead, a black sedan with tinted windows met them at a designated drop-off point. The driver, a nervous man named Ijichi, looked like he hadn't slept in a decade. He drove them up the winding mountain roads in terrified silence, glancing in the rearview mirror every few seconds at Miyuki, whose eyes were scanning the forest passing by.
"We're passing through the barrier now," Gojo announced from the front seat.
Miyuki gasped. It felt like driving through gelatin. A thick, viscous sensation washed over her skin, making her shiver.
"It tingles," she muttered, rubbing her arms.
"That means you have a high sensitivity," Gojo noted, popping a lollipop into his mouth. "Most low-level sorcerers don't even feel the shift."
The car pulled up to the grand, traditional torii gates of the school. The architecture was breathtaking, with ancient timber, curved roofs, and an atmosphere of solemn power. It stood in stark contrast to Miyuki.
She stepped out of the car, clutching the cat carrier. She looked like a refugee from a disaster zone. Her grey skirt was stained, her cardigan was torn at the elbow, and her sneakers were scuffed.
"Welcome to Jujutsu High!" Gojo spread his arms wide, as if presenting a theme park. "Home of the brave, the crazy, and the clinically depressed."
"Encouraging," Miyuki deadpanned.
"Sensei!"
A voice echoed from the courtyard. Miyuki turned to see three teenagers jogging towards them. She recognized the uniforms, the dark navy swirls, and gold buttons.
The boy with pink hair waved enthusiastically. The dark-haired boy looked stoic. The girl looked annoyed.
"You're late, Gojo-sensei!" the girl yelled, stopping a few feet away. She put her hands on her hips, her eyes darting immediately to Miyuki. Her expression shifted from annoyance to judgment in a nanosecond. "And who is... this?"
"Be nice, Nobara," the pink-haired boy said, bowing slightly to Miyuki. "Hello! I'm Itadori Yuji. We heard we were getting a transfer student, but..." He trailed off, looking at her attire.
"But you didn't expect a homeless person?" Miyuki finished for him, her tone sharp. She set the cat carrier down on the gravel.
"I wasn't going to say that!" Yuji panicked.
"I was," Nobara Kugisaki said, crossing her arms. "Seriously, Sensei. Is this a charity case? She looks like she fought a dumpster and lost. And she's... old."
Miyuki's eye twitched. "I am twenty-six. That is not old. And for your information, little girl, I was kidnapped by government agents three days ago, held in a cell, and then dragged here by your lunatic teacher. I haven't had a shower or a change of clothes. So excuse me if I don't meet your fashion standards."
Silence descended on the courtyard. Nobara blinked, clearly respecting the comeback.
"She's got bite," Nobara smirked. "Okay. I approve."
The dark-haired boy, Fushiguro Megumi, stepped forward. He didn't look at her clothes. He looked at the air around her. His Divine Dog, Totality, materialized beside him. It was a massive beast, black with a fluff of white on its chest, growling low in its throat.
"Megumi," Gojo warned playfully. "Control your mutt."
"It is agitated," Megumi said, his voice tight. "Her energy... It's not normal. It feels like standing next to a leaking reactor. It's making it nervous."
"It's making me nervous," Miyuki muttered.
Suddenly, a hiss erupted from the carrier on the ground.
"Mrraoooow!"
The Divine Dog froze. It looked down at the plastic crate, catching a glimpse of white fur and angry blue eyes through the grate. Soseki let out a demonic yowl that echoed through the courtyard. The great wolf-like shikigami, capable of tearing curses apart, whined and took a step back, hiding behind Megumi's legs.
"No way," Yuji burst out laughing. "Megumi! Your dog is scared of a cat?"
"It's not a cat," Megumi defended, looking embarrassed, glancing from the white cat to the white-haired teacher. "It's... evil."
"It's Soseki," Miyuki corrected, picking up the carrier. "And he hates dogs. And teenagers. And men with blindfolds."
Gojo clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention. "Alright, introductions over! This is Arima Miyuki. She's going to be staying with us for a while because she has a very special set of eyes. Play nice, don't make her angry, or she might accidentally delete you from existence."
"Delete?" Yuji asked, pale.
"Remember the technique I told you about? Blue?" Gojo pointed at Miyuki. "She has a variation. Hers is nasty. Corrosive. I'm calling it 'Green'."
Miyuki sighed, the exhaustion finally catching up to her. "I hate that."
"It'll grow on you," Gojo winked. "Yuji, take her to the spare room in the first-year dorms. The one next to yours. Megumi, help her with the bag. Nobara... try not to bully her."
"Fine," Nobara rolled her eyes. "Hey, Newbie. If you survive the night, I'll take you shopping in Roppongi this weekend. You desperately need it."
Miyuki looked at the girl. Underneath the brash attitude, she saw a flicker of genuine concern, or maybe just pity for her outfit. Either way, it was the first normal human interaction she'd had in days.
"I might take you up on that," Miyuki replied softly.
"Here, let me take that," Yuji offered, reaching for the heavy carrier.
"Careful," Miyuki warned. "He bites."
"I'm good with animals!" Yuji grinned, taking the carrier. Soseki was surprisingly quiet with him. Perhaps Yuji's energy was too sunny to hate.
Megumi grabbed her duffel bag. "This way. The dorms are down the path."
As the students led her away, Miyuki paused and looked back. Gojo was standing in the courtyard, hands in his pockets, watching her. His blindfold was back in place, masking his expression, but she could feel his gaze. It was heavy, weighing down the air between them.
He gave a small, two-finger salute.
Miyuki didn't wave back. She turned and followed the students, her torn cardigan fluttering in the wind.
The First-Year Dorms
The room was sparse. A bed, a desk, a wardrobe. It was cleaner than the cell, but just as empty.
"Here we are!" Yuji announced, setting the carrier down gently. "My room is right next door if you need anything. Megumi is down the hall, and Kugisaki is on the other side. Oh, and the vending machine in the lobby is broken; it eats your money sometimes."
"Thank you, Itadori-kun," Miyuki said, sitting on the edge of the bed. The mattress was firm.
"Just Yuji is fine!" He lingered in the doorway for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. "Um... Gojo Sensei said your eyes are special. Like his."
"Yes," Miyuki said, staring at the floor.
"That must be tough," Yuji said simply. "Seeing everything."
Miyuki looked up. Yuji's expression was open, honest. She could see the scars on his soul. There was a faint, sinister residue of the King of Curses that had once lived there, like a stain on fabric, but it was hollow now. Yuji was empty of the monster, yet his own soul shone with a warm, resilient amber light.
"It's loud," she admitted. "It never stops."
"Gojo Sensei wears the blindfold to block it out," Yuji explained. "Maybe we can get you some sunglasses? Or... a sleep mask?"
A small smile tugged at the corner of Miyuki's lips. "Sunglasses sound better than a blindfold. I don't want to look like him."
Yuji laughed. "Yeah, one Gojo Sensei is enough. Well, get some rest, Arima-san! Dinner is at seven!"
He closed the door, leaving her alone.
Miyuki let out a long, shuddering breath. The silence of the room wrapped around her, but her eyes wouldn't turn off.
She opened the carrier. Soseki stalked out, his snow-white fur pristine despite the travel, his icy blue eyes judging the new environment. He inspected the room, sniffed the bed, and then jumped up, curling into a ball on the pillow. He began to pur, a low, rhythmic rumble.
Miyuki lay down next to him, curling around the cat. She didn't take off her shoes. She didn't unpack. She just closed her eyes, trying to imagine darkness, trying to ignore the green static pulsing behind her eyelids.
She was a librarian. She was twenty-six. She liked jasmine tea.
That person is dead, Gojo had said.
"No," Miyuki whispered into Soseki's fur. "She's just... sleeping."
But as she drifted off, exhausted, the image of Gojo's blue eyes and her own green reflection haunted her. The Infinites.
The world had shifted on its axis, and Arima Miyuki was the fulcrum. And somewhere in the dark, she knew, something was coming to break her.