Chapter Text
everything i couldn't save
buried down, still half alive
i got nothing left to lose
fire to the fuse
Suguru doesn't look up from his wallet as he speaks his first words of the day.
"Have you heard?"
"Hmm? Heard what?"
"If you'd been paying any attention, you'd know."
"If you'd been paying any attention to me the whole time we've known each other, you'd know the answer to that, too."
"Satoru," Shouko groans from the corner, a cigarette dangling between her fingers. "Stop being a little shit and answer the question."
Satoru cackles to himself. "Alright, alright. Because Shouko-chan asked so nicely." He stretches his legs out from where he's spread out on the bench, ignoring the look Suguru gives him in favour of rolling the empty can of soda back and forth under his feet.
Didn't taste as sweet as he expected.
"Enlighten me, dear Suguru-kun, what I missed, since I am physically incapable of paying attention to what any of the higher-ups or principles say."
"Or anyone, really," Shouko mutters, just loud enough for everyone to hear.
Suguru withholds his sacred knowledge until the vending machine spits out his own drink, bright orange with an even uglier font. He sits down next to Satoru, deliberately bumping into him at least twice.
"We'll have a new teacher next week," Suguru says.
“In the middle of the year?” Shouko asks.
“It's going to be Sukuna's vessel. He's back in Tokyo.”
That makes Satoru pause. "Sukuna's vessel?" He asks, tilting his head in his best friend's direction.
Suguru isn't even paying attention to him, his foot moving towards the can Satoru is protecting. Satoru manages to defend it for a few more seconds before Suguru outmaneuvers him and kicks it away to Shouko.
"Apparently, Yaga vouched for him to become a teacher a few years after he graduated," Suguru says, pointedly ignoring Satoru's pout. "But the higher-ups were against it. After some back and forth, they agreed to send him on several missions abroad to test whether or not he was suitable for the position. Of course, that was just to buy time. Now they've run out of missions or excuses. Or both."
"Huh. Are they that afraid of Sukuna's vessel?" Satoru says. "He hasn't done shit in all these years. Then again, they're a bunch of old fools who'd wet their beds at the mere presence of a grade four curse."
He chuckles at the mental image, only slightly disappointed when his friends don't join in. Not his fault they don't share his superior sense of humour. He's gotten Shouko's attention at least, and repeatedly points from the can at her feet to himself, using every ounce of charm he has to wiggle his eyebrows.
"Could be fun. Could also be trouble," she says. "There's not much information about him, apart from all that Sukuna stuff."
"I guess we'll just have to wait and see what kind of madman he is," Suguru says, finally taking a sip of his drink. His mask of indifference immediately turns into one of disgust. "Cheap stuff. I hate it."
Satoru would revel in his misery, but he has another pressing matter to attend to.
"Shoukooo," he whines. "Give me back my can, you've held it hostage long enough."
She raises a single eyebrow.
"Please?" He tries and gives her his best smile, the kind that's all pearly teeth and overflowing charisma.
Shouko digs her heel into the tin and crushes it to a pulp.
Annoying, is the first thought that comes to his mind. Too bright, too happy. Naive.
Ugh. Good thing he's wearing sunglasses.
Then another thought—this ball of compressed energy is the vessel of Sukuna?
Whatever Itadori's babbling about goes straight over Satoru's head. Despite the prominent scars that mark different parts of his face, Itadori looks young and untroubled, his honey-coloured eyes making no effort to hide any emotion as they assess each of them. He wonders if his pink hair is natural, given the colour of his undercut.
"What abilities do you have?" Satoru asks, unable to contain himself any longer. “Do you keep track of the curses you exorcised? If so, how many have you—ouch, Suguru-kun, what was that for?"
Judging by the look Suguru gives him, he probably interrupted Itadori mid-sentece. Right. Satoru crosses his arms and pouts. "Aren't I allowed to ask some standard questions?"
"Satoru," Suguru admonishes quietly. "Behave yourself for once, will you?"
“But of course! He's gonna be our teacher for the rest of the year, so I ought to make sure he's useful! Otherwise I'll be bored. Bored, you hear me? Bored and disappointed. A terrible combination if you ask me."
Ah, it’s so much fun to say what's on everyone's mind and ticking them off because he doesn't bend to flimsy social etiquette the way they do. They're the strongest sorcerers around, and they get shit done, unlike so many other people. Why bother with pretence? Why bother with anything, really?
He trusts Yaga, but even he is bound to make mistakes. If Itadori doesn't prove to be of any value, Satoru won't waste his time on him, Sukuna's vessel or not.
If Itadori has the slightest suspicion of what's going through Satoru's mind, he doesn't show it. His face has remained more or less the same throughout Satoru's preparation to verbally steamroll him, the corner of his mouth still pulled up in a friendly smile.
"Ah, I don't mind Gojou-san's questions at all. In fact, they're super valid!" He gives a thumbs up, then points at himself. "I'm pretty sure you already know me as Sukuna's vessel, but I'd like to introduce myself a little differently. Special Grade Healer, Itadori Yuuji, at your service!"
Special grade healer?
Of all the possibilities, this is one of the few that Satoru would have least expected. Pulling down his sunglasses, he gives Itadori another once-over—he's got a red hoodie built into his uniform, which is admittedly cool so Satoru gives him a few style points. Despite Itadori's laid-back appearance, Satoru gets the feeling he'd be able to defend himself quite well if Satoru were to attack him right now.
Hm. Not a quality Satoru's used to seeing in healers—Shouko being Exhibit A.
What catches his attention the most is Itadori's cursed energy. It's quiet and strangely condensed, so tightly bound to Itadori that he can't quite make out how much cursed energy Itadori possesses. A binding vow? Heavenly Restriction? Certainly nothing he's seen before.
Shouko perks up a little. "You're a healer?"
Satoru pushes his hands into his pockets and raises his hand at the same moment Itadori opens his mouth to answer.
"If you are a healer, what exactly are you here for?"
Everyone knows the principles of the reverse cursed technique. Its application, however, is a matter so complex that it has never been successfully taught anywhere, and even Satoru has a hard time explaining how he uses what little of the reverse cursed technique he can do himself.
He doubts that Itadori will be any different.
"What are you going to teach us? How to heal our fingers when they get cut off?” His voice drops to a creeping drawl. Itadori is only a little shorter than him, so he straightens from his slouch, tilting his head in a way he knows makes him look otherworldly, monstrous. "Perhaps a secret recipe to make them taste good?"
Despite Satoru's mocking cruelty, Itadori's expression remains kind.
"Not quite. I'll teach you control," Itadori says, and beckons him closer. "Want me to demonstrate?"
Satoru's smile widens. There's no way that Itadori doesn't know about his abilities—regardless, he'll be happy to see what cloth Itadori is made of.
Satoru steps close enough for the colour in Itadori's eyes to fade to something darker, less tangible. There's a distortion of space, frayed threads of reality unwinding into nothingness in the same instant they become visible, and then Itadori's hand passes through Infinity, the tip of his finger making contact with Satoru's nose.
He—
Itadori booped him.
Satoru inhales sharply. He remains frozen as he pushes his sunglasses up to look at Itadori with all his eyes, and yet Itadori remains where he is, completely unperturbed, as if he were waiting at the counter for Satoru to finally ring up his order of donuts and coffee to go.
"How... are you doing this?" He asks, and it takes everything he has to keep his voice from cracking.
Itadori rubs his neck bashfully, suddenly looking flustered. "If it's any consolation, I don't think there's anyone else who could do this. Unless they have a nullifying technique or tool, of course."
Itadori steps back, and the amount of relief that washes over Satoru almost causes him to stumble. He tries not to let it show on his face, forcing his expression into something made of steel. He wears pride and arrogance like a tailored suit, and with a simple brush of his finger, Itadori stripped Satoru of it all, as brief as the moment was.
Suguru approaches and tries to do the same as Itadori. Obviously, he fails, Satoru barely has to concentrate to avoid that one, Infinity preventing Suguru from getting any further than half an inch.
Suguru looks from his motionless hand to Itadori. "So you're saying—what you did didn't nullify his technique?” He lowers his arm, a contemplative look crossing his face.
"Well, sort of? But not really. Let's see."
Itadori ponders for a few seconds, then points at Satoru's glasses. "To use Infinity against something or someone, you need to know their speed, mass, threat level and amount of cursed energy, right? Feel free to interrupt and correct me if I'm wrong."
Satoru nods slowly, wanting to see where Itadori is going with this.
"What we are dealing with is basically a complex equation. On one side of this equation, there's your Limitless Technique: Infinity. On the other side of the equation is the target you're using Infinity against, which is made up of the different variables I mentioned earlier. As long as you know all these variables, you're able to adjust your own equation and solve everything, leading to your successful use of Infinity. Does that make sense so far?
"In my case, all I did before was to change one of the variables on my end—the cursed energy variable. The others won't be able to see it as clearly as Gojou-san, but here, concentrate on my arm," Itadori says, reaching out again.
While the rest of Itadori is enveloped in the same blanket of calm that Satoru saw earlier, the cursed energy around his arm is restless, constantly shifting from one state to another as if it had a mind of its own.
"See what's happening? The cursed energy around my arm isn't stable—I consciously make it, uhh, fluctuate, I guess. Your Six Eyes help you assess everyone's data almost instantly, which makes it easy to run Infinity. But you're used to these variables being a fixed constant, not something interchangeable. So unless you can match me and adjust your own equation to mine in every single instance, the equation will not be solved. Your Infinity will not repel me—not that it actually repels me, you know what I mean—and I can touch you just like this."
Itadori boops his nose again. Before Satoru can process and use any of the information he's just been given, Itadori has already retreated, looking far too casual for someone who has bypassed what Satoru previously knew to be an impenetrable fortress.
Even Suguru and Shouko are too stunned to make fun of the fact that Satoru has been left completely speechless. It makes sense now that Itadori's cursed energy is so eerily calm, fluid and malleable, but it explains nothing.
Itadori is quick to pick up on their silence. "Uhh, I hope that's understandable? So many fancy words..." He clears his throat, embarrassment colouring his cheeks a light pink. "There's a lot more to it, of course. I've practised explaining it a few times to get it right, but I might still be bad at it, so...?"
Shouko is the first to recover. "No, that was insightful, Sensei," she says in an uncharacteristically soft voice. "Just to make sure—what you're doing is changing your cursed energy output at every given moment so Satoru can't adapt? And Infinity doesn't work as a result?"
"Yup! Something like that. I wouldn't say he can't adapt, though. He's already doing that. It's more like, Gojou-san is not fast enough."
Not fast enough.
Itadori doesn't look directly at him as he says this, but his tone remains neutral. He's just telling things as they are. Even Suguru has a small smile on his face, and that's because he enjoys watching Satoru eat his own words more than anyone else.
Itadori beams at them.
"Great! So, what do you think? Ready for your first lesson? Oh, you don't have to call me Sensei, by the way, makes me feel kinda old..."
Contrary to everyone's expectations, they do nothing about cursed energy for the rest of the day. Instead, Itadori lets them all fight at the same time, watching from the sidelines to familiarise himself with their techniques and styles.
Eventually, Itadori steps in, sparing them one by one while the others take notes.
During his own turn, Satoru makes sure to keep Infinity running at all times. Though it puts a slight dent in his overall performance, he is desperate to know if those earlier instances were the sheer luck of a thousand factors aligning just right for Itadori. Perhaps it was just a funny figment of his imagination, for his brain is like that, sometimes as capricious as his mood. But his suspicions are quickly dispelled, along with any other reservations he may have had about Itadori's abilities as a sorcerer.
Itadori is fast enough that Satoru actually has to put in some effort, and he hits hard. Really hard. Itadori lands blow after blow and Satoru feels them rattle his bones, bypassing Infinity with an implicitness that makes Satoru heave. The back of his throat is completely dry by the time he's forced to yield after half an hour of struggling to match Itadori's pace.
Afterwards, Itadori heals them all with a simple pat on the head. Their injuries are hardly worth mentioning as they didn't go all out, but the showcase still has Suguru's eyebrows raising and Shouko foaming at the mouth.
All this goes unnoticed by Itadori—whether he's oblivious or playing dumb, Satoru can't tell.
"Not bad," Itadori says, dusting off his shirt.
His face is flushed, and that's about the only sign of exertion he shows.
"Gimme a few days and I'll have a nice training plan for all of you!"
Sleep rarely comes easily to Satoru. He’s so used to running a simpler reverse cursed technique on his brain that it’s hard not to be fully alert when his body is supposed to be resting—for even though Satoru has already transcended humanity on so many levels, he’s still shackled by trivial needs such as food or sleep.
His mind drifts, when he doesn’t actively control it, to faded memories and faceless dreams and a thousand choices he didn’t make. It doesn’t quite burn like regret, though he knows it would taste ashen in his mouth if he indulged in it.
Tonight his thoughts take the shape of bright hair and even brighter eyes.
He knows his body is free of injury—Itadori made sure of that—yet the phantom sensations of fists slamming into his ribcage still flare up every time the rough material of his blanket drags across his skin.
It was exhilarating, the pain. He's used to the burning, consuming quality of cursed energy chafing away at his core when he decides to get a little reckless, but this—the dull ache, the constant throbbing of a physically-inflicted wound—is unfamiliar. He can't remember the last time anyone touched him without his explicit permission since he mastered the concept of Infinity.
He can't remember going to bed and feeling tired from anything other than the drain on his powers.
Today, Itadori came closer than anyone had dared without any preamble and did just that.
(Satoru hates it, hates it, hates it. He's supposed to be perfect, the strongest, and he knows that he can't run Infinity all the time, not yet, but he will, eventually, and today he was shown yet another flaw, one that is unacceptable, one that reminds him of what it's like to be vulnerable, to be weak, and he hates it with a burning desperation, hates it, despises it, finds it curious).
Fate is cruel.
It sounds like such a silly concept for Itadori to be a healer. How can the vessel of Sukuna, the embodiment of chaos and destruction, be contained in a small body that has an affinity for healing? Sure, Itadori can fight, and he's surprisingly good at it, but hand-to-hand combat only goes so far against certain curses. Itadori doesn't strike him as the type to overestimate himself, so he must already know where his limits lie, when to step back and let the others take over.
Neither Suguru nor Satoru were allowed to use most of their techniques during their spar, and it's the only aspect that makes Satoru's bruised pride a little less painful.
Perhaps it is because of the massive amount of cursed energy that Itadori most likely has at his disposal. It's the main prerequisite for being able to use the reverse cursed technique in the first place, and the fact that Itadori is the bearer of the King of Curses certainly helps.
But that doesn't explain his ability to control it in such excessive detail. And why healing in particular, of all the powers Itadori could have developed? It adds a perverse twists to his whole situation.
Healers are of immeasurable value in the Jujutsu World—for Itadori to be one of the best, and at the same time be the vessel of Sukuna, makes the matter of his execution a massive, convoluted headache, completely blown out of all proportion.
No wonder the higher-ups are so conflicted about how to deal with him.
Satoru flops over on his stomach, groaning. He can already feel that he's going to be so damn cranky the next morning.
Suguru almost knocks him off balance with a nudge to the shoulder.
"Just give him a chance," he says, still picking at the frayed edges of his uniform, where the curse had managed to get a hold of him.
Satoru cranes his neck to glare at him.
Unfortunately, glaring at Suguru also means that he has to give up his view of Itadori—their sensei is walking behind them from a distance, carrying two unconscious, recently orphaned children on his back because his heart bleeds like that.
It's one of the first things Satoru learned since going on missions together—as long as something possesses a pulse and a will, it's eligible for Itadori's concern.
He doesn't know whether to be irritated or very irritated.
Satoru doesn't bother to pretend that he hasn't been doing anything but walking backwards for the last five minutes to watch his sensei. "Haaa? Why do you think I wouldn't? I've always been nice to our teachers."
"You have that look on your face. The look that says," Suguru's voice takes on a comically higher pitch, "I can't decide whether to eat him or leave him alone.”
Satoru throws an arm over Suguru's shoulder, pressing them close and enjoying the way his friend struggles half-heartedly. "You know me so well! What would I do without my best friend who knows me like the back of his hand?"
"Someone has to look after your irresponsible ass."
"And when did you practice my voice, hm? That was pretty good already. I hope you didn't think of anything naughty when—"
"Careful, Satoru. Better get off your high horse or I'll drag you down into the mud."
"Oh?" Satoru's smile turns razor-sharp. "Is that a challenge?"
"Yo, kids!" Itadori calls from behind. "I'm not going to patch up any injuries you might inflict on each other, so no fighting, got it?"
Satoru and Suguru share a quick look. "Yes, Sensei!" They chant.
A temporary peace treaty, at least until they return home.
"Calling me a kid, really?" Satoru quietly huffs. "I'm 16 already."
"Which, by all means, qualifies you as a kid."
"Tsk." Satoru leans close enough for Suguru to actually try and squirm away. "How old is Sensei anyway?"
"Get off my face, Satoru. Older than us for sure. Why don't you ask him, if you're so interested?"
"I'm only moderately interested. Not so interested that I really want to know."
"You're certainly interested enough to stare at Itadori-sensei for a concerning amount of time. It's a miracle he hasn't filed a complaint for harassment yet."
"It's called observing, Suguru-kun. I’m just keeping an eye on him!"
Suguru rolls his eyes. "You're in such denial, it's embarrassing to see."
"Shut up," Satoru says with his usual smile, but the warning undertone doesn’t go unnoticed.
As expected, Suguru remains unfazed in the face of danger. "I will," he says, in a way that implies he’s doing Satoru a favour. "Just because it’s one of the few things you absolutely suck at."
Satoru is definitely not trying to feed Suguru to the next available curse. He definitely does not do it just to have Itadori come up to him and try to reprimand him personally.
Satoru simply puts an arm around him too—as best as he can with those two kids—and pulls him close.
In the following minute, Satoru makes an interesting observation. Sensei's blushes starts at his ears, spreads to his neck, and only then does it eclipse his face, painting it the same colour as his hair.
Maybe Satoru could play nice for a while.
The reveal is somewhat anticlimactic. Not that Satoru was hoping for anything great, really—he was powerful from the moment he was born, chosen and blessed by the gods, and all he had to do was harness and cultivate that potential.
Still.
"Seriously?” Satoru makes a show out of flopping down on the table. “No hidden technique, no secret training method?"
"Nope," Itadori says, popping the p. "It's all about meditation, Gojou-kun."
The only consultation is that Itadori has just said his name, and that this is a one-on-one session. Itadori could have done this in a group, but he doesn't seem to like splitting his attention too much, preferring individual sessions where he can concentrate fully on one person.
This suits Satoru just fine. He can analyse his sensei better without the prospect of embarrassing himself in front of his friends; he's done that enough times in a single week to last him a lifetime.
Satoru just doesn't know why they have to be outside of the campus, in a tiny cafe full of normal people. It's loud and cramped and sticky and the girls keep throwing flirtatious looks at both of them, but Itadori is oblivious to it all and orders what sounds like a whole buffet for their table.
Well. If Itadori wants to pay for everything, Satoru won't complain too much.
"I admit it's not as straightforward as other training methods," Itadori says. "Believe me, I felt the same way when I found out. But it's good at what it does."
Satoru crosses his long legs under the table and rests his chin on his hand to observe him better. "And what does it do, Sensei?"
"Look inside yourself, feel your cursed energy. It should feel like a torrent, right? Constantly hammering against your skull, begging to be let out."
You could destroy the whole country if you wanted to, couldn't you?
Satoru nods. Itadori rewards him with a cute crinkle of his eyes.
"Through meditation you will slowly tame that torrent of cursed energy into a lake. Think of your control as the dam that keeps the lake in check—with enough practice, you alone decide how much goes out and how much does not, and at what speed.”
"Don't I already do that?" Satoru cocks his head and purposefully lowers his glasses to bat his eyelashes at Itadori.
It has the desired effect. Itadori's mouth opens, then closes as he continues to stare. Satoru smirks gleefully. Itadori may be the first person to effectively nullify Infinity through sheer skill, but not even he is immune to his looks.
He breaks eye contact before the approaching waitress can ruin the moment herself, taking in the assortment of baked goods now decorating their table. Half expecting Itadori to stare again as soon as he’s claimed a few mochi, he's surprised to find Itadori just looking at him fondly. He pushes a plate of strawberry cake in Satoru's direction.
"You like it sweet, right? I made sure to pick a lot of them, just in case you don't like something."
Satoru doesn't quite know how to react to the sincerity in Itadori's eyes. In the end, he nods and picks up the topic from before.
"If I didn't have my cursed energy under control, Limitless wouldn't even be activated.”
He leaves out the part where he can't really use his other techniques for the time being. Unnecessary details that neither of them need to concern themselves with.
Yuuji hums in mild agreement. He reaches for the drink he ordered for himself—hot chocolate, Satoru almost coos with delight—and takes a few tiny sips.
"You're not completely wrong. But what you're doing is forceful. You are conquering instead of guiding, which is hardly surprising given the nature of your powers." Itadori shovels a piece of cake into his mouth and chews for a while before continuing. "To be honest, it's an impressive feat in itself to be able to control your cursed energy by sheer force of will. But do you know why it is bad?"
With his cheeks stuffed full like a chipmunk, Itadori points his fork at Satoru. "It's terribly inefficient!"
Satoru has a perfectly intact strawberry cake sitting in front of him, but the chocolate one on Itadori’s plate suddenly looks much more appealing. He steals as much as he can with a single stab of his fork, and isn't surprised when Itadori nods at him encouragingly.
Milk and chocolate melt on his tongue. Satoru groans inwardly. Itadori chose well in terms of quality, he had to give him that, but there are better cafes, less crowded than this one.
Next time, he could show him.
"Hm. Inefficient how?"
"Thanks to your eyes, your cursed energy output is close to zero, so I don't think you've noticed just how much unnecessary work you're doing.”
Over the course of the week, Satoru has gotten somewhat used to Itadori's easy intrusion into his space at every opportunity—Itadori calls it part of his training—so he neither flinches nor stops eating when Itadori bypasses Infinity once more to take off Satoru's sunglasses.
Itadori turns them this way and that, his eyebrows knitted together as he inspects the slight specks of dirt on them. He tries to clean them with the sleeve of his hoodie before putting them on.
"If you do it efficiently, your ability to control your cursed energy output will match your ability to reduce wasted energy to the minimum. Your power will go like—boom! Through the roof. More than it already is. And you'll finally be able to deflect me, too."
Itadori looks both goofy and oddly charming with his glasses. Satoru wants to take a picture, but that would mean putting down his fork, which would mean stopping eating Itadori's chocolate cake, which is a disastrous course of action.
"And meditation will help me with..." Satoru gestures loosely. "Everything?"
"Meditation is the first step of many." Itadori laughs at the sour look on his pupil's face. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll get the hang of it and surpass me in no time!"
He takes off the sunglasses and motions for Satoru to lean forward.
Smiling from ear to ear, Satoru remains still as Itadori puts them back on. They're slightly off-kilter, one temple missing the spot behind his ear, but Satoru is too focused on the light scent of peaches and hot spices that tickles his nose.
Control, huh?
“So, what’s your impression of Sensei?”
"He's quite fascinating," Suguru mumbles.
"I saw him helping the first years just yesterday," Shouko says, shaking her head. "Nanami had a run-in with a special grade. His burns looked close to third degree. But Itadori... Itadori-sensei healed all of them effortlessly, within seconds. Not even a scar remained. I've never seen anyone heal like that before.” She recounts the events with a dreamy undertone in her tone, as though she's about to wax poetry.
It's Shouko, so Satoru kinda wants to see that. He doesn't think he's ever heard her talk so much, not even on those nights when she's completely drunk on nicotine and alcohol.
They've been at the bar for half an hour and she's hardly touched her drink, preferring to draw endless circles with her straw instead. Satoru wonders if she'll notice him plucking her straw from between her fingers, adding it to his own drink instead.
"That's impressive," Suguru comments, more to himself than to her.
"It's like he's an entire operating room and medical team all by himself. I would love to reach that level, one day."
"Not to mention that he's also excellent in close combat." Suguru grimaces. "I don't think I've ever had a muscle ache that lasted this long."
"That's because you rely too much on Cursed Spirit Manipulation."
"I do not! You know very well how often I practice close combat."
“What about you, Satoru?”
They finally realised that all Satoru was doing was pushing around the cherry in his unfortunately non-alcoholic drink. Good for his system, bad for his mood. His head has been wrapped in pink cotton candy and sunshine all week long and he needs a break, even at the expense of his liver.
He's sure he'll go mad if he doesn't. At least more than he already is.
Satoru steals another look at Shouko's drink. Maybe he should just take the whole glass?
He tilts his head back and forth, pretending not to have heard the conversation until now.
"What about lil’ old me?”
"How do you feel about Itadori-sensei, stupid," Suguru grumbles. "It's been a month. Still as doubtful as on the first day?"
"Hmmmm," Satoru says and leans back. He pushes his sunglasses up into his hair and frowns at the ceiling.
He thinks about how easily Itadori gets past Infinity, whether it's with a kick in the stomach or a casual touch on the shoulder—careful to move slowly enough that Satoru could pull away, if he really wanted to.
How he sits down after each training session and insists he'll take care of it, gently taking Satoru's bruised arm in his hands, the pleasant rush of his reverse cursed technique knitting everything back together.
Always so warm.
How Itadori-sensei then tilts his head up to give a smile so gentle it hurts to look at.
Satoru sighs defeatedly and slumps into his seat. "Sensei is rather small, don't you think?"
He addresses no one in particular, but it confuses Shouko enough for him to steal her straw and put it in his glass. Better to keep a sober mind when dealing with Itadori related affairs.
Suguru makes a low sound of recognition. "Now that you mention it, you're right. How old was he again?"
"28~"
"Oi," Shouko deadpans. "You're just freakishly tall. And what does your height have to do with your opinion of Itadori-sensei?"
"I don't know!" Satoru chirps. "But I really want to find out now, hehe."
"I have to agree with him for once."
Shouko looks down at her drink and frowns. Something is not quite right.
"... I should probably warn Itadori-sensei," she mutters to herself.