Chapter Text
The corridors of the Jujutsu Headquarters always reeked of a stale smell, as if rotten mandarin oranges had been boiled in formaldehyde.
The recently concluded Kyoto Sister School Exchange Event was supposed to be a meticulously planned execution ground by those old geezers—a plot to use a Special Grade Cursed Spirit to dispose of Ryomen Sukuna's vessel. The abacus beads of their scheme had been clicking so loudly one could hear them through three layers of barriers.
Unfortunately for them, the beads had shattered all over the floor.
Itadori Yuuji was not only alive and kicking but had also forged a brotherly bond with Todo Aoi. At this very moment, the low atmospheric pressure radiating from the old men behind the bamboo blinds was more nauseating than a Special Grade curse.
"G-Gojo-san..."
Ijichi Kiyotaka, hugging a file folder, followed with shaky steps behind the man striding down the hallway. "A-Are you alright...?"
"Hah? What's wrong with me?" Gojo Satoru stopped and turned his head sideways. Although separated by the black blindfold, Ijichi could still clearly feel the chilling, temperature-less gaze directed at him.
"I'm great, you know? We just won the baseball game. I'm in a super—good mood!"
*Liar.* The surrounding air was practically freezing.
Gojo Satoru was indeed smiling. He was laughing at how increasingly clumsy the old geezers' methods were becoming—so clumsy that he didn't even have the energy to get angry, only feeling bored.
"So?" He extended a hand, his long, artistic fingers hooking impatiently. "Give me the new 'trouble'."
Trembling, Ijichi handed over the file that felt almost hot to the touch.
The boy in the photo looked about fifteen or sixteen, with soft chestnut hair drooping over his forehead and a pair of amber eyes.
"The Mori clan. That small garbage dump clinging to the Zen'in family?"
"Y-Yes," Ijichi explained while wiping away sweat. "Although they claim externally that they admire your educational philosophy... in reality, this child is an outlier within the Mori family as well. Even though he possesses a Cursed Technique, due to its extremely low output, he has always been treated as 'waste' by the family."
"Oh—waste, huh." Gojo's fingertip tapped lightly on the photo. "What a pity. If he had some potential, kidnapping him wouldn't be bad... but with only this level, I really can't get excited."
"Eh? Is it no good without potential...?" Ijichi subconsciously felt offended.
"...I'm not talking about you, why are you making that face?"
"Of course, it's not just about potential. Although I value talent, strength isn't a necessity for a comrade."
"However, I have no interest in raising someone too weak. After all, I can't trust anyone sent by those old geezers." Gojo casually rolled the file into a tube and tapped it against his palm.
"It's different from you, Ijichi. A guy who is not only weak but also has vague mental fortitude, personality, and ambition—even if he wants to be an Assistant Director, one can't feel at ease."
"Throwing a 'waste product' brainwashed by his family into Jujutsu High. If I refuse, they have an excuse to find fault; if I accept..."
The corner of his mouth hooked up into a mocking arc. "They probably think I'll be distracted by having to take care of a piece of trash? Hmm... what exactly are they plotting?"
"Then... should we refuse?"
"Why refuse?"
Gojo shoved the file back into Ijichi's arms and strode toward the exit with his long legs. "Since they went to the trouble of digging it out of the trash heap to throw at me, I might as well catch it. It doesn't matter how useless he is. The first years are one short anyway; let's just say we're adding a person to make a mahjong table."
"I'll go find the Principal and the students first." Gojo's tone suddenly turned lighthearted. "I have to tell them the good news. It's rare for Jujutsu High to welcome a new classmate."
He pushed the door open in a good mood: "Ijichi! You go pick him up at the station!"
The moment the door closed, the sunlight was shut out.
---
On the training field of Tokyo Jujutsu High, the students who had just experienced a deathmatch and achieved a sweeping victory in the baseball game were immersing themselves in retaliatory relaxation.
"Hah—! Black Flash! ...Ah, failed."
Itadori Yuuji hung from the horizontal bar, performing dazzling giant swings, not forgetting to add special move sound effects with his mouth.
"Hey, Itadori, stop shouting." Fushiguro Megumi sat on the steps in the shade, reading a book. "That's a horizontal bar, not a Cursed Spirit."
"What does it matter!" Itadori landed with a backflip and leaned in close to Fushiguro, eyes sparkling. "By the way, I want to eat steak! The super thick sirloin kind! Didn't Gojo-sensei say he'd treat us if we won the Exchange Event?"
"I want to go to Ginza." Kugisaki Nobara added grumpily while checking her healed scratches in a small mirror. "As compensation for the mental damage to my face, I'm going to max out that blindfolded idiot's card."
"Um... I'm hungry too." A giant panda raised his hand. "Also, Toge says he wants to eat tuna mayo rice balls."
"Salmon." Inumaki Toge nodded vigorously, giving a thumbs up.
"You guys are noisy." Zenin Maki, who was practicing swinging her blade, stopped and slammed the butt of her polearm onto the ground with a dull thud.
"Everyone seems energetic—! Great, Teacher has brought huge news!" That irritatingly frivolous voice appeared in the middle of the crowd with the wind.
"Wah! Gojo-sensei!" Itadori Yuuji was the first to pounce. "What news! Is it the treat?"
"Oh right, there was that too... Of course, Teacher keeps his word!" Gojo caught Itadori with one hand, holding a paper bag printed with "Sendai Specialties" in the other, looking like a tourist returning from a trip, completely ignoring the dead-fish eyes of Fushiguro and Kugisaki.
"Skipping work again?" Fushiguro sighed.
"How can you call it skipping work! Teacher went to have a friendly and intimate exchange with those rotten oranges at the top for the sake of your future!"
Gojo grinningly stuffed the paper bag into Fushiguro's arms and clapped his hands to attract everyone's attention.
"Alright, besides the souvenirs, there's a super—major announcement!" He held up a slender finger and waved it in front of everyone.
"Since Yuuji has 'resurrected' and returned to the team, our squad has grown. But! Those old folks at the top felt it wasn't lively enough, so—we are welcoming a new transfer student!"
"Transfer student?" Itadori tilted his head. "At this time?"
"That's right! His name is Mori Akito. He's a young master from the Mori clan—you know, the family that's just as feudal and rotten as the Zen'in clan."
Hearing "Mori," Maki paused with her Cursed Tool on her shoulder. As someone deeply poisoned by the Three Great Families system, she had a physiological aversion to such clans.
"Hah?" Maki scoffed, her eyes sharp as knives. "That garbage dump can raise a Sorcerer? Their family hasn't had a decent technique in generations, just a pile of disgusting rules."
"Wow, sounds miserable..." Itadori scratched his head, his focus completely off. "He must have been scolded a lot at home, right?"
"Not just scolded." Gojo observed the students' reactions through his blindfold. His tone remained relaxed, but his Six Eyes were capturing everyone's emotional fluctuations.
*(Word is he was treated as 'waste' since childhood—but it doesn't feel right to introduce a new classmate like that.)* Gojo omitted this sentence.
"I don't know how he turned out now. His technique is controlling 'poison'—sounds insidious, doesn't it? But don't worry—" He deliberately dragged out the sound, the corner of his mouth hooking into a bad grin as he made a "tiny bit" gesture. "Rumor has it his technique is very, *very* weak. He won't be able to stir up any waves even if he tries!"
"Poison? Like a Debuff Mage in games?" Itadori's eyes lit up. "Then can we let him poison the Cursed Spirit first, and I'll deal the damage?"
"Idiot." Kugisaki slapped Itadori on the back. "The point is 'poison'! Sounds like a gloomy otaku!"
"Kelp." Inumaki Toge also took a step back, clearly averse to anything that might hurt his throat.
Fushiguro Megumi frowned. If he's so weak, why did the higher-ups stuff him in at this specific time? And Gojo-sensei's attitude... although seemingly relaxed, there was a faint sense of dissonance.
"Since he was sent by the higher-ups," Fushiguro said in a low voice, eyes vigilant, "he's a 'monitor', right? Like the one before..."
He didn't finish, but everyone thought of the Special Grade Cursed Spirit incident that nearly killed Itadori.
Gojo shrugged, reaching out to ruffle Fushiguro's hair and pat Itadori's back.
"It doesn't matter. Just treat him as a normal classmate. No matter where they come from, once they arrive at High Tech, they are my student."
"What if he comes with malice?" Panda asked the key question.
The smile on Gojo's lips deepened. "Then kick him back to where he came from. If I accidentally use too much force... well, that's his bad luck."
He turned around, waving to the students with his back to them, and walked toward the school gate.
"The new classmate arrives this afternoon. Yuuji, as the 'sunniest' senior here, remember to help the new student relieve his nervousness!"
"Oh! Leave it to me!"
Watching Gojo's retreating figure, the unease in Fushiguro's heart didn't dissipate. But looking at Itadori discussing dinner with Panda beside him, he sighed softly. No matter what kind of monsters or demons come, with Gojo-sensei blocking in front, it should... be fine, right?