"This makeup exam is definitely no problem anymore!"
Gojo Satoru had crammed multiple ancient tomes straight into his head, memorizing them word for word, and returned the next day in high spirits.
At Tokyo Jujutsu High, just as Gojo Satoru was about to reach the boys' dormitory, he slowed his steps. The Six Eyes caught the lingering trace of Getou Suguru's cursed energy lingering inside Asou Akiya's room. What were those two doing behind his back?
"No, Akiya, we're not even at the stage of being proper friends yet. If you give me intimate clothing as a gift, I'll feel ashamed."
Before he even reached the dorm door, Gojo Satoru heard Getou Suguru's familiar teasing voice.
"Ashamed because your special-grade certification hasn't come through yet?" Immediately after came another boy's voice, clearly sharper and more dominant. "In that case, how about you give a brilliant performance in front of my phone camera, Getou?"
"No need," Getou replied with a blatantly insincere refusal.
"Cut the nonsense and go back to your own room to change," Akiya urged, clearly trying to chase him away.
"I'll just change here," came the soft rustling sound of someone removing clothes.
"No way—get out of here right now—! Getou Suguru, you shameless DK!" Akiya shouted angrily.
"I'm giving you a chance to film me, pfft," Getou said with a laugh.
"Bang!" Gojo Satoru tried to push the door open dramatically, but it was locked. Unwilling to give up, he kicked it once and shouted, "I'm back! Getou, Akiya, don't have so much fun chatting without me—open the door for me already!"
A burst of hurried footsteps approached. Gojo Satoru could tell it was Asou Akiya, slippers slapping lightly against the floor.
The wooden dormitory door was pushed open from the inside, the movement cautious, careful not to bump into the person waiting outside.
A clean, handsome youthful face came into view.
Short black hair, pitch-dark eyes. The gloomy, hollow air he ought to have carried—as frozen in those photographs from when he was fourteen—had instead turned toward the sun as he grew, becoming gentle and clear. No innate technique; cursed energy that manifested in a flame-like crimson; emotions steady and controlled; strength that, after mastering Black Flash, had reached the level of a semi–Grade Two jujutsu sorcerer. All of this came together to form the fifteen-year-old Asou Akiya that Gojo Satoru knew.
—And in those eyes, there was only him.
Only at this moment did Gojo Satoru truly feel that he had returned to Tokyo Jujutsu High.
Then his gaze shifted past Asou Akiya's height, and he saw Getou Suguru standing in the living area, examining himself in the mirror. On his upper body was a high-neck knitted sweater; on his lower, a pair of high-waisted trousers. The warm beige tones softened his entire presence, making him look far less threatening.
Yet to the Six Eyes, the fluctuations of the cursed spirit manipulator's cursed energy remained mottled and interwoven, brimming with a distinctive kind of power. Every single day, he grew stronger through the subjugation and assimilation of cursed spirits—proof that he was the only person capable of chasing Gojo Satoru in terms of raw strength.
Without the slightest concern for the other's feelings, Gojo Satoru spoke bluntly. "Getou, you're really obsessed with your looks."
Getou Suguru shot back, "I'm trying clothes on to see if the size fits. If you've got the guts, don't look in the mirror later."
Gojo Satoru blinked. "Huh? There's one for me too?"
Asou Akiya stuffed the wool sweater meant for Gojo Satoru into his arms. "Go back to your room and change."
Gojo Satoru shook it open to inspect it, lips pursed in dissatisfaction. "Mine's the same as Getou's?"
Asou Akiya smiled. "I bought four sweaters. Ours match Yaga-sensei's too."
Gojo Satoru grinned. "I'll be right back!"
He dashed back to his own dorm room, threw the door open, then slammed it shut behind him, the impact making the doorframe shudder.
Getou Suguru glanced toward the corridor outside. "Still as conservative as ever, huh."
Asou Akiya's smile faded. He replied evenly, "That's still better than you being excessively open-minded, Getou. If he ever turns into an oily DK who winks every day while pulling off his sunglasses, you'll bear the primary responsibility."
Getou Suguru let out a sly chuckle and firmly refused to shoulder that blame. "Him going bad is only a matter of time."
Asou Akiya: "..."
Getou Suguru stroked his chin, thinking it over. "With that face, he probably wouldn't look greasy, though."
Asou Akiya found it difficult to put into words. "It would completely ruin his aura…"
Getou Suguru patted Asou Akiya on the shoulder. "Don't treat him like some higher life-form."
He lowered his head slightly, bangs falling to obscure his eyes, and spoke from experience. "We've already turned him into a brainless friend and an idiot who fails exams. So, when are we going to go bully him?"
Back when Gojo Satoru had a terrible temper, Asou Akiya had been more than happy to help Getou Suguru plot ways to mess with him. But now that Gojo Satoru was sweet all day long, cheerful and carefree as he went to school without a single thought in his head, Asou Akiya had no desire to bully him at all. Pretending not to hear the latter half of Getou's words, he replied faintly instead, "And who was it that got played by an idiot and filled in the blanks wrong on an exam?"
Getou Suguru fell silent.
Why did such a painful memory have to be dragged out again and whipped at repeatedly?
Changing tactics, Getou Suguru proposed, "Akiya, as repayment, I'll take you out to play on the swings. I guarantee it'll be fun."
Asou Akiya stepped back, creating distance, and rejected him cleanly. "No. Games like that between friends—go look for Gojo. He'd be happy to go bungee jumping with you. We're not friends; we're not that close."
Getou Suguru was stabbed in the heart for the second time. Summer in the jujutsu world was hell; things improved a great deal once autumn arrived. But not long after Gojo Satoru learned the reversed technique 'Red,' and Getou Suguru mastered Simple Domain, the curse spirits launched a wave of backlash. Now, with winter approaching, there weren't many missions, and it hardly counted as busy. He had nothing but an imagined special-grade curse spirit, "Kokkuri-san," to his name—what he lacked were solid, tangible achievements!
The jujutsu world was observing the curse spirit manipulator; the higher-ups were doing their best to cultivate Getou Suguru. What everyone told him was much the same: you have great potential; reaching special grade is only a matter of time.
Getou Suguru looked at the white-haired boy who emerged after changing his clothes, and once more, a spark of competitive fire ignited in his eyes.
Gojo Satoru's outfit matched the high-neck wool sweater perfectly. His soft white hair fell neatly down the back of his head, and once he put on his sunglasses, his silhouette no longer looked bulky at all; instead, he carried the distinct air of a male model striding down an autumn–winter fashion runway.
He turned back with a puzzled look. "Getou, is something wrong with your eyes?"
Getou Suguru shut his eyes in something close to despair.
Asou Akiya, Gojo Satoru—you two are truly the nemeses fate planted in my life!
Off to the side, Asou Akiya dutifully took on the role of smiling, snapping photos, and saving them, completing an entire sequence of rituals meant to commemorate youth. He showed not the slightest consideration for Getou Suguru's resentment and calmly preserved this piece of dark history labeled "eye discomfort."
Half an hour later.
Several strange noises echoed from the heights above Tokyo Jujutsu High.
There were Getou Suguru's shrill screams as he "danced" in midair, Gojo Satoru's delighted cheers as he caught people again and again, and Asou Akiya—forced into riding the swing—weakly shouting, "I've had enough, you two, please stop already!"
Dressed in his new clothes, Gojo Satoru was in exceptionally high spirits. He insisted on dragging the other two out to wander around and show off. He was so noisy that even passing cats took detours to avoid him, clearly disdainful of the commotion. In the end, somehow, the three of them ended up thousands of meters above the ground. Asou Akiya wanted to escape but had nowhere to run—Gojo Satoru grabbed Getou Suguru, Getou Suguru commanded a curse spirit to seize Asou Akiya, and together they plunged into a shared thrill.
Asou Akiya's protests were completely ignored; Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru had inexhaustible energy waiting to be vented.
That evening, the two who had offended Asou Akiya were unceremoniously kicked out, left with no choice but to eat off campus.
Getou Suguru spotted a "big eater" challenge advertised at a burger joint, "finished a specially made giant burger and the meal would be free." Without hesitation, he dragged the starving Gojo Satoru inside. After a furious bout of eating, they left behind a legend that belonged solely to them and walked out.
"Getou, you cheated. You reinforced your stomach with cursed energy," Gojo Satoru exposed him.
"Satoru, as long as I win, that's what matters," Getou Suguru replied cheerfully, completely unconcerned—he wasn't picky, after all, and could eat just about anything.
"We're competing in desserts!"
When Gojo Satoru spotted a dessert shop they frequented along the roadside, his competitive spirit flared instantly. Without waiting for protest, he grabbed Getou Suguru and dragged him inside. There wasn't much money left on the membership card anyway—might as well spend the entire balance in one go.
The second round of their contest ended with Gojo Satoru's victory, achieved through nothing less than sheer, unrestrained dessert consumption.
His brain: Delicious.
His Six Eyes: That's enough. You're full. Stop eating.
The victorious Gojo Satoru staggered as he walked, his steps weaving left and right into an exaggerated S-shaped, snake-like path. The defeated Getou Suguru, meanwhile, was already plotting how to reclaim his loss. His gaze landed on a row of claw machines by the street, and he made a gamble—betting that Gojo had never dealt with the cruelty of a rigged crane game.
Getou Suguru declared, "Let's compete at claw machines!"
Gojo Satoru: "?"
Ten minutes later, after repeated failures, Gojo Satoru was so furious he wanted to smash the glass display case. "What kind of trash machine is this?!"
Exhibiting clear signs of destructive tendencies, Gojo Satoru was forcibly dragged away from the scene by Getou Suguru.
The third round of the competition was suspended.
Their rivalry and one-upmanship continued deep into the night. They played with reckless delight, completely losing track of time. When Asou Akiya failed to hear from them for too long, he began to worry something had gone wrong and called Getou Suguru first.
"Getou, why aren't you back yet?"
From the phone came a series of sharp, hissing inhalations.
Asou Akiya recognized the sound immediately—it was the unmistakable aftermath of spicy food. "Are you eating spicy late-night snacks?"
Getou Suguru's mouth was numb from the heat, his speech slurred. Before he could answer properly, the phone was snatched away by Gojo Satoru.
"Getou wanted to compete with me. I won the seventh round! I dragged him to a Chinese restaurant for a midnight snack—he lost so badly it was pathetic!"
Even though Gojo Satoru himself wasn't particularly good with spicy food, Getou Suguru was far worse. It was, in truth, nothing more than two culinary amateurs pecking at each other like helpless chicks.
Asou Akiya said, "Take your time and have fun. Just don't be late tomorrow."
He closed the dark web links he had obtained through the auxiliary supervisor, finished browsing through every bounty related to the "Six Eyes" and the "Cursed Spirit Manipulator," ended the call, turned off the lights, shut down the engine, and went to sleep with a clear conscience.
Only an idiot would worry about two bored, overqualified, semi–special-grade sorcerers with nothing better to do.
…
November 25th, Friday.
Asou Akiya put on his high-neck knitted sweater and layered his school uniform over it. The outfit was both warm and aesthetically pleasing. Carrying a light breakfast meant to soothe an overstimulated stomach, he went to knock on the doors of the two classmates he was responsible for waking up.
The two DKs froze when they saw him, then hurriedly retreated back inside to change clothes.
Even though they had gotten their knit sweaters a little dirty the day before, they still insisted on wearing them again, determined to maintain a sense of visual unity no matter what.
In the classroom, Ieiri Shoko received her own cashmere scarf. The gifts Asou Akiya prepared for JKs were always different from those he gave to DKs. She laughed at the three of them and teased, "Are you triplets or something?"
Asou Akiya replied calmly, "No."
Getou Suguru said with a straight face, "It's Getou Suguru, Getou Akiya, and Getou Satoru."
Gojo Satoru didn't immediately process the sudden surname change. After a beat, he asked, "Wait, Suguru—are you saying you want us to marry into your family?"
Asou Akiya shot Getou Suguru a dagger-sharp glare.
Getou Suguru burst out laughing.
Gojo Satoru, after giving it some serious thought, arrived at his conclusion. "No way, Suguru. Let's put it to a class vote—majority rules. I'm a Gojo, Akiya belongs to my household, so it should obviously be you who changes your surname to Gojo."
Getou Suguru and Ieiri Shoko exchanged speechless looks.
"The teacher's here."
Asou Akiya brought the potentially dangerous conversation about family backgrounds to an end in the most bland, unremarkable way possible.
When Yaga Masamichi stepped into the classroom, the three DKs spoke in unison, "Sensei, why aren't you wearing your new clothes?"
Yaga Masamichi: "..."
Indeed, beneath the collar of Yaga Masamichi's instructor uniform, there was no high-neck knitted sweater to be seen.
The middle-aged man with a family cleared his throat and said, "What are you staring at? My wife took the new clothes to be washed and hung out to dry. I'll wear them in a couple of days."
He rapped the blackboard with his knuckles, suppressing the noisy classroom. "Alright, class begins now!"
Today's lesson: how to identify curse users outside of school, and the jujutsu world's stance toward curse users.
A loud yawn echoed through the classroom.
Yaga Masamichi roared, "You stayed up late again!"
A piece of chalk smacked into Gojo Satoru's forehead, leaving behind a puff of white dust before being bounced away by the "Limitless" technique.
Getou Suguru, who had almost yawned as well after catching it from him, managed to swallow it back just in time.
Gojo Satoru protested aggrievedly, "Sensei, I've got way too much experience dealing with curse users. There's no need for me to attend this class."
Asou Akiya, ever the teacher's model student and unofficial teaching assistant, stepped forward without hesitation and said, "Gojo, please share your experience with us."
Gojo Satoru stood up, rubbing his forehead as he spoke. "I just glare at them from a distance, and they run off scared."
Asou Akiya replied in a flat, deliberately monotonous tone, "And the ones who don't run?"
Gojo Satoru snorted coldly. "I kill them."
Asou Akiya continued, "The bodies of jujutsu sorcerers are generally cremated, so what about the corpses of curse users? Do you leave them at the scene?"
Gojo Satoru: "..."
"…They're smashed into fragments."
Asou Akiya pressed on, "You are currently a student at Tokyo Jujutsu High. After a battle, who is responsible for handling the scene? The assistant supervisors? Or you yourself? Given how stiff your relationship with the assistant supervisors is, how many of them do you think would be willing to come clean up a site full of scattered remains for you?"
"..."
Getou Suguru said, "That's enough. He's completely stunned."
Ieiri Shoko let out a suppressed laugh. "Pfft."
After Gojo Satoru was rendered speechless, Yaga Masamichi cast a satisfied look at Asou Akiya.
Yaga Masamichi said, "When students of Tokyo Jujutsu High encounter curse users and a battle occurs, if it's possible to leave the curse user alive, then do so. The higher-ups will send personnel to interrogate them, and you will also receive a reward."
The trace of humanity in Yaga Masamichi's words revealed itself only between the lines. "If you can avoid killing, then don't let a curse user's blood stain your hands."
While listening to the lecture, Getou Suguru lifted his head, then lowered it again, relief surfacing across his face.
So it turned out that Teacher Yaga did not support his students killing people either.
That was… truly a good thing.
This jujutsu world had not yet become so cruel that it demanded minors shoulder the weight of human lives, forcing them to cut down evil at the cost of becoming executioners themselves.
Asou Akiya, in a rare moment, slipped a small note to Getou Suguru.
Gojo Satoru's gaze snapped over at once. His Six Eyes caught the contents the instant Getou Suguru unfolded the paper.
[Relax a little, Getou.]
[You are our moral compass. Your sense of right and wrong matters more to us than you realize.]
Getou Suguru received comfort from the classmate seated beside him.
Meanwhile, Gojo Satoru silently chewed over the phrase "moral compass." He himself had never given much thought to good and evil; much like the fill-in-the-blank questions on a history exam, he was perfectly willing to write the same answer as Getou Suguru. After all, through long familiarity, there was one thing he was absolutely certain of.
Among the entire class, only Getou Suguru was someone who truly carried justice in his heart—a purely good person who genuinely loved protecting others.
—Getou, you're a super rare, top-tier Cursed Spirit Master, you know!