Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1 

The buzzing of the incandescent light overhead sounded like insects trapped inside glass. The sharp sting of disinfectant hung thick in the infirmary, yet it still failed to fully mask the metallic stench of blood.

Ieiri Shoko tore open the blood-soaked bandage for the third time and poured on a heavy layer of hemostatic powder.

The moment the fresh bandage was secured, crimson seeped through again, spreading like stubborn weeds clinging to water.

She finally looked up, fixing her gaze on the white-haired man leaning lazily against the doorframe.

“Even reverse cursed technique isn’t working,” she said flatly. “Where did you pick up such a troublesome little thing?”

The wounds were shallow, thin as knife slits, yet the bleeding refused to stop.

“I found her on the roadside,” Gojo Satoru replied casually. He didn’t seem surprised at all. He swayed over to the bedside and bent down, his breath brushing against the girl’s trembling lashes. “If it really won’t stop, just stitch her up. Use the thickest thread you’ve got.”

Ieiri Shoko: “?”

The blood soaking into the gauze suddenly stopped.

Gojo let out a soft chuckle. The oppressive tension clinging to the air, mixed with disinfectant and iron, ebbed away like a receding tide.

Shoko, who had long abandoned any belief in superstition, paused. “…She’s pretending to be unconscious?”

None of her checks had revealed anything unusual.

With a knowing smile, Gojo reached out and poked the girl’s hand sticking out from beneath the blanket.

Her skin was pale, almost moonlit. A shallow dent formed beneath his fingertip before slowly rebounding, the lingering chill sending a faint shiver up his skin.

Her long lashes fluttered — once, twice — before finally lifting.

The eyes that opened were a startling red, like glass beads soaked in blood. 

Empty. Hollow.

Shoko felt a chill crawl down her spine. Cold sweat broke out at the nape of her neck after just one glance.

“So that’s how it is,” she muttered.

Gojo, entirely unfazed, pinched the girl’s cheek with blatant curiosity.

Her skin was soft, and a faint red mark bloomed where his fingers pressed, like a plum blossom against snow.

As if sensing his touch, the girl’s eerie crimson gaze shifted and locked onto him.

Reflected within her pupils was the deep blue of his Six Eyes, like a roaring bonfire blazing across an icy plain.

Shoko straightened the medical equipment she had knocked askew earlier and took a steadying breath. “Is there something attached to her?”

Back in their student days, she had faced countless Grade 1 cursed spirits alongside Gojo Satoru. None of them had ever made her body stiffen like this.

And yet—

The girl lying on the infirmary bed had skin so pale her veins showed faintly beneath it. Raven-black hair spilled across the disinfectant-scented pillow.

The stark contrast between black and white made her look profoundly inhuman, like a porcelain doll assembled from fresh snow and crow feathers, devoid of warmth.

Gojo seemed entertained. Like teasing a cat with its claws retracted, he poked her cheek again and again.

Her red eyes followed his movements obediently.

He laughed, clearly delighted. Even the bandages sliding down his arm seemed to radiate cheer.

Annoyed at last, the girl’s gaze drifted to the ceiling, refusing to respond further.

“Huh?” Gojo sighed, disappointed at losing interest, though his fingers still lingered lightly against her cheek. Noticing Shoko’s probing stare, he shrugged. “Probably a curse.”

“Another one?” Shoko’s brows knit together. “As dangerous as the one from a few days ago?”

“More dangerous than Yuta.”

Gojo took a few steps back. Without warning, a surge of azure cursed energy slammed into the hospital bed.

The girl shot upright instantly, her gaze snapping back to him.

A mist of blood burst outward, sweet and metallic. Vein-like tentacles ripped through the air, twisting together mid-flight.

The curse materialized — massive, larger than a stable. Translucent blood vessels covered its body, each one ending in a mouth lined with sharp teeth. Saliva dripped to the floor, corroding small pits into the tile.

Most horrifying was the half-formed face crowning its body, seven parts resembling the girl, yet more mature. Upturned eyes radiated a dangerous, bewitching allure.

Shoko clutched the medicine bottle, her fingers trembling.

Just as Gojo’s cursed energy was about to reach the girl, several blood vessels shot out at once, merging into a single gaping maw that swallowed the azure energy whole.

The remaining tentacles writhed violently, lashing toward the ceiling. Each tip expelled seven blazing orbs of cursed energy, their blue light blinding.

“Blue—?” Shoko’s eyes widened.

It could replicate Gojo’s technique?

The orbs detonated. Half the infirmary wall collapsed in a thunderous roar, rubble raining down.

Gojo dodged the tentacles piercing through the wall, flashing Shoko a smug grin. “See? Different, right?”

Reflected in his Six Eyes, countless scarlet tendrils froze midair — three centimeters from his nose — like venomous snakes held in place by invisible threads.

“GOJO SATORU!”

A furious roar echoed from the doorway. Yaga Masamichi stepped over the debris, staring at the ruined infirmary and shattered medical equipment, veins bulging on his forehead.

Seeing Gojo dancing effortlessly between attacks, clearly provoking the unknown curse, his fists clenched.

Even faster than Gojo’s movements were a pair of red eyes, so saturated that even the whites were tinged crimson.

Yaga instinctively stepped back. Before he could recover, the tentacles changed direction, bombarding him.

The Kappa Cursed Corpse he had just released was shredded instantly.

Yaga countered, flinging more than a dozen cursed skeletons forward. They were crushed like paper beneath the blood vessels.

Just as a tentacle grazed his throat, azure cursed energy erupted at Gojo’s fingertips, illuminating the girl’s pale face.

She sat on the only intact hospital bed amid the ruins, eyes unfocused, eerily calm against the surrounding chaos.

The assault dragged on. Gradually, the tentacles weakened.

The girl yawned softly and leaned back.

The monstrous curse lowered its appendages, clumsily tucking her in. As it dissolved into a mist of blood, it seemed almost… aggrieved.

Yaga stared at the scattered remains, heart pounding. He turned on Gojo, voice shaking. “Explain.”

“It’s exactly what you saw.” Gojo laughed, brushing dust from his shoulder. “I found a promising young sorcerer and decided to test her limits.”

“….”

Yaga’s veins throbbed. “We just dealt with an unstable element days ago, and now you bring in something even worse. Are you trying to give the higher-ups heart attacks?”

“Gotta keep them active,” Gojo replied cheerfully. “Sitting around all day causes blood clots.”

He twirled the black blindfold peeking from his pocket, completely unrepentant.

Shoko glanced at the wreckage. Her brand-new equipment lay in pieces, metal shards still falling.

She inhaled slowly, resisting the urge to smash the medicine bottle over Gojo’s head.

Yaga opened his mouth to curse—

Then froze.

The hospital bed was empty.

The black-haired girl had vanished.

Gojo burst into laughter, shoulders shaking as if he’d just heard the world’s funniest joke.

The student had run away, so why was he so happy?

Shoko didn’t understand.

Before she could question it, Gojo was already gone, leaving only destruction behind, and Yaga’s exhausted sigh.

**

On the training grounds, the wind carried the scent of cherry blossoms, brushing against Zen’in Maki’s glasses.

She rubbed her temples, staring at the white-haired man sprinting around with a box of chocolates. “What’s that idiot doing now? Throwing chocolates like bombs?”

Panda tilted his fluffy head. “Satoru’s probably looking for someone.”

Yuta stood off to the side, fidgeting with his uniform. He’d only enrolled days ago and still struggled with conversation, relegating himself to the background.

His gaze drifted toward a nearby cherry blossom tree.

Something felt off.

Rika stirred restlessly.

Inumaki Toge followed Gojo with curiosity.

“A new classmate?” Maki crossed her arms. “Even he can’t find them?”

With the Six Eyes, Gojo’s perception was overwhelming. What kind of sorcerer could hide from him?

“Special edition, super-delicious chocolate—!”

Gojo’s voice rang out, exaggerated and singsong, mimicking a street vendor. “Don’t miss it!”

He shook the box, sunlight scattering starlike reflections off the wrappers. “Really, really delicious!”

When the students approached, he shoved chocolates into their hands. “Alright! Help sense out the new student!”

“Summon?” Panda examined his chocolate. “Is the new student Minerpa?”

“Hmm.” Gojo nodded thoughtfully. “More like Chocoin.”

Panda paused. “…The one that scratches your eyes out?”

Gojo grinned. “Exactly.”

Inumaki unwrapped his candy and held it high, waving it vigorously. “Salmon.”

“She’s behind that tree.” Yuta’s voice was barely audible.

“Eh?” Gojo blinked. “You can sense her?”

“N-no,” Yuta quickly shook his head. “Rika can. She sensed something there.”

Chapter Text

The April wind carried the sweet scent of cherry blossoms as it swept through the campus, shaking the branches until pink and white petals fell like scattered snow, rustling softly across the stone paths of Jujutsu High.

Gojo Satoru walked beneath the drifting blossoms toward the tree Yuta had mentioned, casually unwrapping a chocolate. 

“Super—delicious chocolate,” he drawled. “Really, no one wants a bite?”

Sunlight filtered through the petals, breaking into fragments that landed on his frost-white hair, shimmering like stardust carelessly scattered by a god.

He continued to shake the chocolate in his hand, the sweet scent spreading with the motion until even the air felt sticky.

When no response came, he clicked his tongue in exaggerated regret and twirled the chocolate between his fingers. “Guess sensei has no choice but to enjoy this all by himself—”

The moment the words left his mouth, the cherry blossoms above him abruptly lost their color.

Pink and white petals curled inward, blackening as if burned from the inside. The branches withered and cracked at a visible speed, life draining away as though an unseen hand had slaughtered the entire tree in an instant.

From behind the dead trunk, a black head slowly peeked out.

The figure wore an oversized hospital gown, the hem brushing her knees, revealing ankles so pale they were nearly translucent. Only her ruby-red eyes stood out, locked unblinkingly onto the chocolate in Gojo Satoru’s hand.

“Want some?” Gojo asked lightly.

She didn’t answer. But her head swayed slightly, following the movement of the chocolate.

Strands of raven-black hair brushed her cheeks, giving her the look of a stray cat lured by food — alert, cautious, yet unable to look away.

“If you want it, come over here~” Gojo crouched down without hesitation, deliberately lowering himself, easing the invisible pressure his towering presence naturally created.

The girl hesitated, shrinking back half a step, her fingers curling into the fabric of her gown.

Gojo reached up and tore the black blindfold from his eyes.

Azure irises bloomed into view, luminous and vast, like nebulae suspended in the void, beautiful enough to make one forget how dangerous they were.

“See?” he said casually. “No bad intentions.”

A few seconds passed.

Then, softly, bare feet crunched against fallen petals.

The girl emerged inch by inch from behind the tree. Sunlight brushed her pale ankles, warmth she didn’t seem accustomed to, and she moved as if every step required careful negotiation with the world.

“…Is that Gojo?” Zen’in Maki blinked, sounding momentarily ten years younger.

“Isn’t Satoru always like this?” Panda scratched his chin, eyes drifting toward the girl. “…Is she a new classmate? She feels even scarier than Yuta.”

Inumaki squatted nearby, glancing from the withered tree to the slowly approaching girl, then nodded solemnly. “Salmon.”

Yuta’s pupils suddenly constricted.

He staggered, barely catching himself as he dropped to one knee, his face draining of color.

In his vision, the black-haired girl was wrapped in thick, blood-red mist. Her eyes — like glass beads soaked in blood — radiated something profoundly wrong, a pressure that crawled straight down his spine.

As if sensing his stare, she turned her head slightly.

Their eyes met.

Yuta’s heart lurched.

Danger! Yuta! Danger!!

“Rika—!” He forced himself upright, instinctively moving forward—

—and froze.

The blood mist surrounding the girl violently tore open, and a semi-transparent red cursed spirit burst forth, its presence warping the air.

Yuta’s breath caught.

The lingering resentment from Gojo Satoru’s earlier indifference surged violently through it. Vein-like structures throbbed across its body, rage boiling over.

A visible energy vortex detonated at the center of the field.

Countless blood-vessel tentacles erupted outward, weaving a massive net that blanketed the sky, making even the space itself hum under the strain.

The once-terrifying special-grade cursed spirit was instantly reduced to prey — trapped, crushed, struggling helplessly within its domain.

Yuta’s mind went blank.

He took a step forward—

—and was yanked back.

“You trying to die?” Zen’in Maki’s cursed tool clattered to the ground as she shook her numbed hand.

“Satoru’s still here,” Panda said calmly, hoisting Yuta over his shoulder and retreating a few steps.

“As long as he’s around, no curse is a problem.”

Inumaki nodded, pointing toward the still-writhing battlefield. “Salmon.”

**

Meanwhile, Gojo Satoru seemed blissfully unaware of the chaos behind him.

Still crouched in place, he fanned the nearly melted chocolate with his hand.

“If you don’t come over soon,” he sighed, “Sensei really will eat it all by himself~”

The girl — who had been advancing one careful step at a time — suddenly quickened her pace.

She stopped right in front of him.

It was the first time in his life Gojo Satoru had been looked down on.

The novelty delighted him. He tilted his head slightly.

The girl blinked, then tilted her head at the exact same angle.

“…Kawaii,” Gojo said, thoroughly charmed, standing up with a grin.

She startled, retreating two steps, only to be pulled back by the scent of chocolate.

Laughing softly, Gojo held it out. “Here. Eat.”

Her nose twitched. She stared at him for several seconds, as if confirming he posed no threat, before lunging forward and biting off half the chocolate in one swift motion.

She chewed fiercely, cheeks puffing out.

As the sweetness melted across her tongue, faint golden glimmers flickered into existence within her once-empty crimson eyes.

Subtle, but Gojo noticed.

Happy, he judged.

“If the damage gets too bad,” he said lazily, leaning against the dead tree, “Sensei’s going to get fined.”

She didn’t react, just swallowed and took another massive bite. If he hadn’t pulled back in time, she might’ve taken his fingers with it.

“And if the fine’s too high,” he added gently, “there won’t be money left for chocolate.”

Her chewing stopped.

She looked up at him. Then down at the crumbs left in his hand.

He sighed dramatically. “This chocolate’s really expensive.”

Behind them, the raging tentacles froze midair.

The cursed spirit released Rika, its upper face scrunching into something pitiful before dissolving into a mist of blood.

“Good girl.” Gojo ruffled her hair, the raven strands soft beneath his fingers.

As if by magic, he pulled another chocolate from his pocket and offered it to her. “A reward~”

Her red eyes flashed.

She swallowed quickly and leaned in again.

“You can’t eat the wrapper,” Gojo laughed, narrowly pulling his fingers away.

She ignored him, lips parting as the wrapper crinkled open, snapping up the falling chocolate with perfect precision, like a fledgling bird being fed.

Cocoa dust clung faintly to the corner of his lips, making his pale skin glow in the afternoon sun.

**

The training field felt warm. Even the breeze softened.

Whenever Gojo Satoru was around, he handled first-year training, because no one else taught “according to aptitude” quite like him.

“That’s all for today’s special training—”

The white-haired teacher abruptly scrapped the rest of the lesson. Just moments ago, he’d beaten the students into the ground without mercy; now, he casually popped a Pocky stick into his mouth, shamelessly acting cute.

Crunch.

“Sensei’s taking Yue-chan to get some suuuper cute ID photos now~”

Crunch. Crunch.

Facing the students sprawled flat on the ground, gasping for air, he added without the slightest guilt, “Maki, remember to give Yuta a few extra sets of physical training later. His reaction speed just now was way too slow.”

Crunch. Crunch.

Panda dusted himself off and glanced at the girl beside Gojo. “Is she like Yuta?”

Yuta swallowed, voice trembling. “Sensei… Rika… will she be okay?”

“Relax~” Gojo chuckled, his bandages shifting. “She just overdid it. A little rest and she’ll recover.”

Snap—

The sudden sound made him look down.

The cookie box in the girl’s arms was empty. She was licking the edge, cocoa smudges staining the cardboard.

Gojo laughed softly, catching the box just before she could eat it. His reflection lingered in her blood-red eyes.

Cute.

He ruffled her hair again and produced another box, pressing it into her hands. “Eat.”

Crunch. Crunch.

The gentle crunch of cookies resumed, like a cat stepping through first snow.

Using sweets as bait, Gojo half-coaxed, half-dragged the girl across the cherry blossom–strewn campus, until she stopped walking entirely.

So he carried her the rest of the way.

Normally, student records required an ID photo. He glanced down at her in his arms, still eating, utterly uninterested in anything beyond her cookies.

“…Yue,” he murmured.

She didn’t respond. Only the quiet crackle of biscuits answered.

The wind lifted her hair. Gojo sighed softly.

He didn’t dwell on things — never had.

**

Soon, they reached the registrar’s office.

Moments later, cracks spidered across the floor tiles. Bloodstains seeped faintly into the corners of the walls.

Gojo crouched, holding out a piece of chocolate. “Stand here nicely. You’ll get this after the photo.”

Her eyes locked onto it.

He broke off a piece and brushed cocoa powder from her lips, thumb gentle.

She immediately leaned in, tongue warm and soft as it licked away the sweetness. Her lashes brushed his fingers.

The staff member holding the camera trembled, sweat beading on his forehead.

Gojo leaned against a cracked cabinet, thoughtful.

Sunlight slid through the bandages and fell into Yue’s crimson eyes — rich, deep, and luminous, as if soaked in wine.

Chapter Text

Half-full from chocolate, the girl grew drowsy. She unconsciously leaned closer to the warmth, letting out a soft, almost inaudible hum as her nose brushed against the other person’s shoulder.

Gojo Satoru paused.

He glanced down at the person in his arms, then, after a brief hesitation, adjusted his hold — awkwardly shifting her into a more comfortable position. Her weight settled against him naturally, as if she had done this countless times before.

Even his usually flamboyant steps slowed.

The afternoon sun stretched long shadows across the training ground, overlapping with the fallen cherry blossoms like scattered snow.

**

Training Ground

“….”

The first-year students stared at the smiling white-haired man.

Their lips twitched involuntarily.

In the silence, Gojo Satoru tilted his head, feigning surprise. “Aren’t you happy?” he asked lightly. “Your teacher is treating you to a lavish meal.”

“A lavish meal?” Zen’in Maki pushed up her glasses, the lenses flashing coldly. “Last time you said that, you dumped us on a cursed-spirit-infested train overnight. We survived on compressed biscuits.”

Panda immediately jumped in, slapping his furry thigh. “And the time before that! You promised top-grade Wagyu sukiyaki and sent us to a haunted hot spring inn. We couldn’t even bathe safely, while you were next door eating a luxury strawberry parfait!”

“Salmon!” Inumaki Toge nodded vigorously, clearly still traumatized.

Gojo Satoru raised a hand without the slightest guilt. “That was practical training. How else are you supposed to become competent sorcerers?”

“You just wanted an excuse to slack off,” Maki shot back.

Everyone knew he had dumped the work on them to go buy limited-edition sweets.

Panda was about to continue when a sudden chill crawled up his spine.

He snapped his head up.

The girl’s eyes were open.

Those crimson pupils — like glass beads soaked in blood — were unfocused, empty… yet they made every strand of fur on Panda’s body stand on end. He looked like a startled hedgehog.

“Eh? Are you angry?” Gojo Satoru pinched Yue’s chin with precise fingers, gently turning her face toward him.

“…No?” he murmured, peering into her vacant gaze. His voice dipped in disappointment. “Not angry at all?”

He pinched her cheek again, teasing.

The other students stared at Panda, who was still visibly bristling.

“Maki,” Panda muttered, rubbing his face. “I’m fine. Just… nothing.”

But deep down, he knew—

If they kept complaining, something very bad might happen.

Gojo Satoru lost interest in teasing Yue and turned back to his students. “This time it’s real,” he said cheerfully. “A proper freshman welcome party. I swear~”

Freshman… welcome party?

Panda and Inumaki both glanced at the girl in his arms. Her blood-red eyes were wide open, yet lifeless.

“What’s wrong with her?” Maki asked bluntly.

“She had a little accident,” Gojo replied casually, rubbing Yue’s head. “Communication’s a bit difficult for now. But she’s very well-behaved. You’ll get along just fine~”

Well-behaved?

Inumaki pulled his collar up, remembering how Rika had been completely suppressed earlier. He suddenly felt like the word had lost all meaning.

“Is she a non-sorcerer-born?” Panda asked quietly.

Yuta Okkotsu rarely showed curiosity — but now, he lifted his head slightly, peering at the girl through his dark bangs.

Gojo didn’t answer. Instead, he changed the subject.

“So, who’s up for food?”

Panda and Maki exchanged a look.

“Yes,” they said in unison.

There was no way they were passing up a chance to fleece Gojo Satoru.

***

Ijichi arrived quickly, with a minivan.

“…Um.” Sweat pooled in his palms as he gripped the steering wheel. “Gojo-san, this… isn’t exactly within regulations…”

Gojo raised a brow from the passenger seat, Yue resting quietly on his lap.

Ijichi immediately caved. “B-But given the new student’s special situation, it’s… understandable.”

“Yue,” Gojo corrected mildly.

Ijichi froze.

So the higher-ups already knew. That saved him the trouble.

Gojo shifted Yue, adjusting her until she was fully nestled against him.

She remained eerily still, like a doll, save for the occasional blink.

As sunset painted the windows honey-gold, the minivan sped toward the city.

***

“…Didn’t you say we were eating?” Maki stared at the shopping mall. “Why are we here?”

“To buy clothes for Yue-chan, obviously,” Gojo replied. “She can’t wear a hospital gown forever.”

Yue’s pale legs swung slightly beneath the oversized gown as he carried her.

Panda stared. “…Who are you, and what did you do with Gojo Satoru?”

“Want extra training later?” Gojo asked lightly.

Panda immediately shook his head.

Too late.

The mall doors slid open.

Gasps followed instantly.

“Whoa, he’s so handsome!”

 “Is that a panda?!”

 “Mom! A panda!!”

Yuuta noticed something else.

People froze when they met Yue’s gaze. Her red eyes reflected the lights above, beautiful and terrifying, like preserved specimens.

**

Clothing Store

“I’ll leave the fitting room to Maki,” Gojo said.

“Huh? Me?” Maki pointed at herself.

“It’s inappropriate for a teacher,” he replied matter-of-factly.

She frowned, but the trembling store staff answered that question for her.

Maki sighed. “Fine.”

She selected a black-and-white lace-collared suit. “Her size.”

The staff barely managed to comply.

Gojo pressed a chocolate to Yue’s lips. “Be good and go with Maki. You’ll get more later.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Yue followed.

Inside the fitting room, Maki reached for the hospital gown, then froze. “…You absolute idiot.”

She yanked the curtain open. “GOJO SATORU.”

He blinked. “What?”

Maki took one look at Yue tilting her head up at him, then sighed. “…Another store. Now.”

**

Lingerie Floor

Panda backed away. “We’re not going in there, right?”

Yuta stared at the floor, ears burning red.

“Tuna!” Inumaki crossed his arms into an X.

Gojo tapped the sign, thoughtful. “…Raising kids is harder than I thought.”

When Yue tilted her head at him expectantly, blood mist began to seep from her body.

Maki hissed, “Stop teasing her!”

Gojo waved a gold-wrapped chocolate. “Throw a tantrum and today’s chocolate is gone~”

The blood mist froze, then vanished.

“Good girl~” He popped the chocolate into her mouth, Six Eyes glimmering beneath the blindfold.

Chapter Text

Zen’in Maki hadn’t expected Yue to take the measurements herself, so she simply accepted the measuring tape handed over by the shop assistant.

Up close, the girl was… deceptive. Those puffed-out cheeks of hers always reminded Maki of a kitten she’d kept briefly when she was younger — small, soft, and absolutely not as harmless as it looked.

“Raise your hand.” Her voice softened without her even realizing it.

Yue lifted her arm obediently, her cheeks trembling faintly with the motion.

Maki adjusted her undergarments with practiced efficiency, then gave her arm a light pat. “You can put it down.”

The chocolate ball in Yue’s mouth melted quickly from her body heat. Her crimson eyes stayed fixed on the dressing room door, tracking time by the shrinking sweetness.

She’d bought the clothes too.
They could wear them together.

By the time the last hint of chocolate disappeared, Maki had finished.

A black-and-white blouse with delicate openwork revealed faint glimpses of skin, paired with a fluffy plaid skirt and a black lace petticoat peeking from beneath. The monochrome palette made Yue’s complexion appear even paler, like an exquisitely crafted doll displayed behind glass in some century-old boutique.

Outside the shop, several sorcerers waited.

Two were huddled together whispering, while another stared off into space, lost in thought.

Gojo Satoru leaned casually against the wall, his black blindfold and lazy posture drawing covert photos from passing high school students. Their hushed giggles burst into a quiet crimson cloud the moment his lips curved upward.

“One, two, three… seven.” Panda counted the people approaching Gojo and sighed. “Satoru’s still ridiculously popular, even when he’s acting weird.”

“Salmon!” Inumaki nodded vigorously, his mouth still full of snacks.

“They’re finally done!” Panda sprang up, brushing imaginary dust off himself.

Gojo glanced down, tugging lightly at his blindfold. A sliver of cerulean blue peeked through.

Yue was already standing in front of him, head tilted back, mouth wide open, patiently waiting for her reward.

Gojo reached into his pocket.

…Empty.

“I got bored waiting,” he said calmly. “So I ate all the chocolates.”

He withdrew his hand as if nothing was wrong, completely ignoring Yue’s stunned stare. After giving her stomach a fond rub, he added brightly, “It’s fine. Teacher’ll take you to buy more.”

There was a dessert shop downstairs that specialized in chocolate.

A faint blood-tinged mist seemed to rise around Yue.

The person who’d been tricked did not look pleased.

Gojo immediately scooped her up around the waist, his tone earnest to the point of absurdity. “Really. It’s right downstairs. Yue-chan can buy as much as she wants.”

Watching him stroll off without a backward glance, Maki scowled. “Did that idiot forget we exist?”

Panda leaned over the glass railing, peering down. Gojo’s tall frame completely blocked the girl in his arms. “…Doesn’t Satoru seem kinda weird with the new classmate?”

Gojo was usually friendly, but he’d never hugged a female student like that before.

**

The dessert shop on the basement level was filled with warm sweetness. Lava cakes steamed behind glass, and the air was thick with cocoa and chocolate syrup.

Gojo pushed a shopping cart and plopped Yue straight into it. He grabbed several boxes of strawberry white chocolate and tossed them in. “How about this? Strawberry flavor. Super sweet.”

Yue didn’t answer. She hugged the boxes instead.

The rich cocoa butter scent brought a faint sparkle to her otherwise empty crimson eyes.

A staff member’s legs nearly gave out. Staring into those red eyes, she nervously nudged a gilded cocoa-dusted tray forward, forcing a smile. “P-Please try—”

Before she could finish, Yue seized the tray and dragged it toward herself. The cherry-filled chocolates vanished in seconds.

Once Yue finished eating, Gojo casually handed the empty plate back. “Ten boxes, please.”

The staff member froze, then beamed. Fatigue vanished instantly as she hurried to the back and returned with velvet-ribboned gift boxes, elegant and unmistakably expensive.

Soon, the cart was overflowing.

Yue couldn’t hold everything anymore, so she simply propped the wobbling boxes under her chin.

“I knew this was a bad idea…” Panda pushed the third shopping cart, ears drooping. “My paws are gonna fall off.”

“Salmon!” Inumaki steadied a tilting cart with one hand, clutching another chocolate box with the other.

Maki ground her teeth. “As expected, nothing good ever comes from that man being nice.”

Wasn’t this supposed to be dinner?

Yuta followed quietly behind, glancing at Gojo and Yue ahead, then lowering his gaze again.

Gojo ignored all complaints. After finalizing the purchase, he filled in a delivery address.

Jujutsu High was too remote for delivery, but the Gojo family owned prime real estate all over Tokyo.

Yue refused to leave the cart of chocolates, and the staff didn’t dare approach. In the end, Gojo coaxed her out with a single chocolate ball.

Cheeks puffed, eyes half-lidded, she leaned her chin against his shoulder, relaxed and oddly captivating.

**

After leaving the mall, Gojo led them straight to a nearby restaurant.

In the private room—

Panda collapsed into his chair, kicking his legs. “Finally! I’m starving!”

Maki grabbed the menu and flipped it so hard the cover nearly tore, clearly planning to bleed Gojo dry.

“Tuna!” Inumaki tugged down his collar zipper.

Yuta sat quietly in the corner, eyes shadowed by his bangs, observing in silence.

Gojo pinched Yue’s cheeks, molding her mouth into a Psyduck shape. “You only get chocolate if you answer a question.”

Yue blinked.

“It’s easy.” He released her mouth after she nodded slowly. “What color do you like?”

“….”

“Answer fast,” Gojo said unfairly. “Or all the chocolate disappears tomorrow.”

“….”

Her red eyes flickered in the warm light. Slowly, her lace-trimmed sleeve slid down, revealing a snow-white wrist.

Gojo’s Adam’s apple bobbed as she poked the spot beneath his blindfold, right over his covered eye.

The scent of caramelized chocolate lingered.

Only then did he notice cocoa smudged at the corner of her lips.

His fingers moved before his brain caught up.

The instant his fingertips brushed her mouth, the blindfold was yanked away, cerulean blue eyes reflecting their tangled silhouettes.

Yue looked up at him.

Blank.

Then tears welled, soaking her lashes.

Before Gojo could react, they spilled freely, shoulders trembling.

“…Hey.” He sighed. “Don’t cry. Your teacher’s right here.”

It didn’t help.

“You’ll get dehydrated,” he muttered, pulling her into his arms and rubbing her back.

The sobbing only grew louder, quickly soaking his uniform.

“…No choice, then.”

He pulled out chocolate, unwrapped it swiftly.

The scent of strawberry and cocoa filled the air. Yue instinctively opened her mouth.

As the white chocolate melted, her sobs softened into quiet gasps.

Mission accomplished, by questionable means.

Gojo straightened, returning to his lazy grin as the first-years stared. “Well? You ordering or not?”

“YES!!” Panda hid behind the menu. “Sukiyaki! Beef tongue! Salmon belly! Teppanyaki—”

“Salmon!” Inumaki nodded enthusiastically.

“I… I’ll just have chicken and egg rice,” Yuta murmured.

Maki frowned, glancing between the now-quiet Yue and Gojo calmly placing orders.

…Something felt off.

**

The portions were small, so they ordered multiples.

When the salmon belly arrived, Gojo deliberately held a piece to Yue’s lips.

She sniffed, then turned her head away, still gnawing eel.

Didn’t like it.

Gojo chuckled.

He grabbed Panda’s peony shrimp, topped it with caviar. “This is good. Want some?”

He tugged her hair lightly and held it out.

This time, Yue bit down.

Her eyes darted as she chewed, then she reached for the platter herself.

**

In the kitchen, sparks flew from the teppanyaki grill.

The chef finally snapped. “How many people are at that table?”

The waiter hesitated. “…One table.”

“One table?!”

Had gluttons reincarnated there or what?

Chapter Text

“You can’t eat anymore.”

Gojo Satoru caught Yue’s wrist with one hand. With the other, he grabbed a wet wipe from the tray beside him and patiently wiped her fingers, which were smeared with oil and sauce.

Yue, forcibly restrained, lifted her head.

Her crimson eyes—so red they almost looked like they might bleed—locked onto the waiter standing beside her.

The pressure in that gaze was overwhelming.

Cold sweat soaked through the waiter’s back. His neatly pressed uniform clung damply to his spine, sweat rolling down his temples, darkening even his collar. The hand clutching the menu trembled violently.

Only one thought echoed in his head.

Get out. Get out now.

“Check, please.”

The moment Gojo’s lazy voice fell, the waiter felt like he’d been granted a royal pardon. He spun around and bolted out the door, nearly tripping over himself as he fled at the speed of an eight-hundred-meter sprint.

He’d always been responsible—ever since childhood, every paycheck carefully saved to support his four adopted sisters’ schooling.

But even the most deeply ingrained sense of duty couldn’t override pure survival instinct.

His ears rang with a sticky buzzing, like vicious dogs snapping at his heels.

No—this place was worse than vicious dogs. Even if it meant losing his pay, he would never come back here.

A wet, sticky rustle echoed from the corner.

Scarlet tentacles sliced silently through the air, spreading toward the exit like venomous snakes.

“If you cause trouble,” Gojo said mildly, wiping Yue’s hands clean, then resting his palm against her visibly swollen belly and giving it a slow rub, “all today’s chocolate is gone.”

The tentacles froze.

They writhed reluctantly across the carpet before collapsing into crimson mist, dissipating into the air with palpable grievance.

Only after confirming all ordinary people had left did Panda poke its head out from behind the mountain of seafood shells, scratching its cheek. “That appetite is… kind of terrifying.”

Just the garlic dishes alone had gone through seven or eight rounds—not to mention the cheese-baked lobster and teppanyaki that followed.

Maki took a sip of juice, her gaze dropping to Yue’s balloon-like stomach. “Doesn’t she need digestive medicine?”

It wasn’t just big—it was stretched into a smooth arc, like an overinflated balloon on the verge of popping.

“Tuna…” Inumaki pointed mournfully at the half-eaten cheese-baked crab casserole.

Yue’s eyes snapped to it instantly. She kicked her legs restlessly while sitting on Gojo’s lap.

“Alright, alright.” Gojo sighed, loosening his hold. “Teacher’ll get it for you. But that’s the last bite.”

With practiced ease, he pried out a piece of crab meat soaked in custard and caviar and brought it to her lips.

It wasn’t stinginess—Yue simply had no concept of full. Her belly already looked dangerously swollen.

She opened her mouth obediently and swallowed it down.

Her eyes curved into crescents, a faint pink bloom spreading across her pale cheeks.

When the bill arrived, it was so long it had to be rolled up.

Yue alone contributed nearly half. Gojo glanced at the total and signed without a second thought.

**

Ijichi’s headlights sliced through the night.

Shoko, seated in the car, glanced out the window. “Aren’t those two going back to school?”

Panda stretched lazily in the back seat. “Satoru owns half of Tokyo.”

Yue’s situation was even harder to control than Yuta’s—there was no way Gojo would leave her at school.

Yuta sat quietly in the corner, eyes lowered, sneaking glances outside.

On the street, beneath glowing lamps, a white-haired man smiled as he spoke to a black-haired girl in his arms.

Blood-red tentacles crept along her uniform, curling toward the gilded dumpling hidden in her pocket.

“Trying to sneak a bite?” Gojo pinched the tip of one tentacle, laughing softly as his Adam’s apple brushed her cool forehead.

“….”

Streetlights flickered on one by one, casting their intertwined shadows long across the pavement.

Passing a pharmacy, Gojo bought a box of digestive pills.

This time, Yue resisted—burying her face stubbornly into his neck.

Gojo calmly took out a chocolate bar and deliberately crumpled the foil, letting it rustle.

A second later, he felt movement.

Red eyes locked onto the sound with uncanny accuracy.

Yue opened her mouth on instinct.

His fingertip brushed her lips—and the brown pill slipped in, faster than the eye could follow.

“Don’t spit it out,” Gojo warned lightly, pressing a finger against her mouth, smiling wickedly. “Or tomorrow’s chocolate gets cut in half.”

Threatened, Yue froze.

Then, reluctantly, she began to chew.

The moment the pill dissolved, the crisp crack of chocolate echoed in the night.

Gojo, utterly shameless, popped the chocolate ball he’d used as bait into his own mouth, right in front of her.

A small bump puffed out his cheek.

Yue stared.

Her fingers twitched.

Almost unconsciously, she poked his cheek.

Gojo let her. He even tilted his head deliberately, rubbing his cheek against her fingers as she tried to pull away, like a large white cat begging for attention.

“Is it fun?” he asked softly.

The intimacy of the gesture was something even he hadn’t noticed.

Yue didn’t answer. Her fingers recoiled—then drifted back again, drawn by warmth she didn’t yet understand.

A faint flicker lit her empty eyes.

Like an oil lamp igniting in the dark.

**

Ijichi was efficient.

The nearby apartment had already been cleaned.

After stepping out of the elevator, Gojo carried her straight into the bedroom.

The room was carefully prepared—cream-blue patterned bedding, sheer curtains lifting in the night breeze, carrying a faint jasmine scent.

Full and exhausted, Yue slept soundly against his shoulder.

Only after laying her down did Gojo realize a problem.

She smelled like teppanyaki and chocolate.

The doorbell rang.

After tucking her in, Gojo stepped out.

Passing through the living room, his fingers tightened briefly around the edge of his black blindfold before he tossed it carelessly onto the sofa.

The door opened.

Ieiri Shoko didn’t enter, instead handing him a paper bag. “The results are in.”

Gojo opened it.

“Congenital heart disease,” Shoko read flatly. “Ventricular septal defect. Pulmonary stenosis. Overriding aorta. Right ventricular hypertrophy.”

“A classic Tetralogy of Fallot.”

She watched his face. “You’re not surprised.”

Gojo flipped through the reports in silence. The CT scans showed severely abnormal heart structures.

“She also has a hereditary clotting factor deficiency,” Shoko added.

“So?” Gojo replied calmly.

“Logically, she should’ve stopped breathing a long time ago.”

Both conditions were congenital.

Tetralogy of Fallot had no medication-based cure—only surgery.

Shoko tensed, worried he might impulsively remove whatever curse was sustaining her.

Seeing his restraint, she handed him another bag. “Basic meds. One reduces cardiac load. Make sure she takes them.”

Gojo closed the file. “Shoko, can you help Yue take a bath?”

“A bath?” Shoko blinked.

**

Steam fogged the bathroom.

Yue tilted her head back, warm water cascading down her neck as creamy foam slid along her skin.

White bubbles floated, catching her attention. Specks of chocolate still clung to her lips.

Shoko glanced at Yue’s hand resting on the tub’s edge—her nails faintly cyanotic.

She sighed, gently wiping her cheeks. “Close your eyes. Time to wash your hair.”

Satisfied, Yue obeyed.

Water ran. Steam swirled. Cherry blossom scent filled the air.

Afterward, Shoko wrapped her in a towel and dressed her in a white nightgown.

Midway through blow-drying, the chocolate was gone.

Yue lost patience.

Crimson tentacles flickered.

The bathroom temperature plummeted.

The mirror frosted over.

Shoko immediately turned off the dryer.

**

In the living room, Gojo lounged on the sofa, cerulean eyes half-lidded as he ate daifuku.

Rice flour coated his fingertips.

He looked up.

Yue stood barefoot, water dripping from her hair, nightgown clinging to her calves.

“Tsk.” Gojo teleported behind her just as she headed for the kitchen, grabbing her collar like a misbehaving kitten.

“….”

She struggled helplessly as the chocolate-filled fridge grew farther away.

The chandelier swayed violently.

Gojo sat back down, tucking her into his arms.

Shoko dried her hands. “She’s indigested. Don’t let her eat more.”

Her stomach had been hard during the bath.

She left before Gojo could assign her more chores.

Gojo hummed, then scooped a huge bite of tiramisu, deliberately waving it in front of Yue before eating it himself—chewing exaggeratedly.

“Wow. So rich. So chocolatey.”

Yue’s pupils shrank. She reached out.

“Can’t help it~” Gojo caught her wrist, smiling innocently. “Doctor says Yue-chan can’t eat this anymore.”

Chapter Text

Gojo Satoru’s mischievous nature was never subtle.

He was the type who would place candy beside an anthill, then deliberately cover it—just to watch the tiny creatures panic and scurry in frantic circles.

This time was no different.

He could have simply hidden the desserts in the refrigerator, out of Yue’s sight, sparing her the temptation altogether. Instead, he lined them up neatly on the coffee table: daifuku, tiramisu, pudding, mousse—every sweet in clear view. He even went out of his way to push the most eye-catching chocolate lava cake to the very edge, well within her reach.

Sure enough, only seconds passed before a hand reached out.

The instant Yue’s fingertip brushed the plate, her wrist was caught.

The grip wasn’t painful, just firm enough to make escape impossible.

Gojo casually pulled the cake closer to himself, his tone infuriatingly smug. “This one’s sensei’s. You can’t take it, Yue-chan.”

Yue froze for two full seconds.

Then she saw him pick up a fork.

Realization hit.

She’d been robbed.

She immediately withdrew her hand and shifted targets—straight to the tiramisu beside her.

Caught again.

Daifuku.

Stopped.

Pudding.

Stopped.

Mousse.

The same scene repeated over and over.

Annoyance finally welled up in her previously vacant crimson eyes. She arched her back like an enraged cat, fur metaphorically standing on end.

Gojo’s shoulders trembled as he struggled to hold back laughter. Maintaining an utterly innocent expression, he took another large bite of lava cake.

Chocolate sauce dripped slowly from the spoon.

He deliberately slowed down, exaggerating every movement. “Wow, so sweet. And it’s flowing.”

Translucent red tendrils burst into existence, slapping noisily against his shameless self.

Bang! Bang!

The chandelier swayed slightly overhead, light and shadow flickering across Yue’s face, equal parts aggrieved and furious.

Gojo, completely unrepentant, continued fanning the flames.

“The cocoa powder in this tiramisu is so rich—not bitter at all~”

“The cream inside the daifuku is incredibly smooth~”

He even popped the very last chocolate chip cookie into his mouth, deliberately crunching down on it while staring straight at her.

The tentacles lashed harder.

But after a while, the anger in Yue’s eyes faded—slowly replaced by exhaustion.

She lifted a hand to rub her eyes. Her long lashes fluttered like small fans.

The rampaging tentacles slowed… then dissolved into the air.

That was when Gojo finally burst out laughing.

He reached out, grabbed her wrist, and pulled her straight into his arms.

Yue instinctively adjusted, finding a comfortable position against his chest. Her eyes slid shut almost immediately, her breathing evening out.

The movie continued to play.

Soon, it reached its climax.

On-screen, the male protagonist stood before a burning house as the narration spoke:

“He discovered the time loop, and realized that death was not the end—only another chance to begin again.”

Gojo stared at the screen, Yue asleep in his arms.

Her black hair spread across his chest like a hunting spider’s web, dense and inescapable.

The protagonist endured countless deaths, finally “growing up”—yet the ending remained tragic.

The closing music carried a heavy, inescapable sorrow.

No matter how hard someone tried, the beloved still remained trapped in that desolate wasteland.

Gojo’s expression darkened subtly.

He lifted a hand, brushing his fingers through the cool strands of hair beside him.

In her sleep, Yue unconsciously leaned closer to the warmth.

Something settled within his cerulean eyes—dense, oppressive.

**

White steam seeped from the cracks of window frames, like the breath of some living creature, creeping through the space.

At first, it was only a thin haze.

In the blink of an eye, it thickened into asphalt-black smoke, carrying terrified screams—women crying, children coughing violently.

A desperate plea for help rang out—then cut off abruptly.

The sound died within the splintering wooden stairwell, as though something had seized its throat.

A thin rim of red seeped through the smoke.

Flames leapt from the living room, licking the windowpanes.

Chaotic music erupted from a burned-out gramophone.

There was no source.

It was everywhere—like warped instruments stitched together by force, nauseating and discordant, mixed with the crackle of burning wood.

In the corner, a walnut wardrobe began to twist.

Its doors contorted unnaturally as thick resin oozed from the seams, dripping onto the charred carpet—

Accompanied by faint, infant-like sobbing.

Suddenly, a massive rust-red eye filled the ceiling.

A monster of crimson flesh crawled from the flames.

Tentacles split from its edges, thin as molten wire, piercing precisely into the core where fire and smoke intertwined.

**

Yue jolted awake.

Her fingers clawed into the sheets as her breath came in ragged gasps, chest heaving violently. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably.

A deafening buzz filled her ears—like countless bees trapped inside her skull, or nails scraping glass far away.

Before consciousness could catch up, her body curled in on itself, knees pressed tightly to her chest in a futile attempt to escape the suffocating pain.

Blood mist spread through the room.

Sticky dripping sounds echoed as tentacles emerged, reeking faintly of iron, slowly closing in.

A monster woven from blood-vessel tentacles coiled in the air, its twisted limbs encircling her—

Yet the tentacles capable of tearing through concrete now patted her back gently.

One tentacle—darker than the rest—detached.

It wrapped around Yue’s pale wrist, its pulse synchronizing with the others.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Like a clock resetting.

Tears at the corners of her eyes were wiped away.

The monster moved with strange tenderness—like a mother soothing her child.

The door suddenly flew open.

Gojo Satoru strode in.

His cerulean eyes reflected the writhing tentacles filling the room—like IV tubes in an intensive care unit, coursing with unknown energy.

The tentacles turned toward him, their ends splitting into wet, gaping mouths.

Hostile.

Gojo ignored them.

He walked straight to the bed.

Yue’s breathing had steadied. Her eyes were shut once more.

Even so, the bluish tint of her lips was unmistakable. Her skin was ashen, corpse-like, save for the sickly flush on one cheek.

Ieiri Shoko’s words echoed in his mind: “Logically, she should’ve stopped breathing long ago.”

Gojo brought his fingers beneath Yue’s nose.

Faint—but steady.

Only then did he exhale.

When he touched her forehead, the heat nearly burned him.

The monster stared at him.

After several seconds, it slowly withdrew part of its body.

Gojo turned and retrieved the medicine bag Shoko had left earlier, heart medication and fever reducers.

He returned with warm water.

And, of course, chocolate.

Chocolate worked better than anything else.

He held it beneath Yue’s nose.

The sweet scent stirred her.

Her pupils contracted slightly. Her bluish-purple lips parted instinctively.

The white pill slipped in—same trick as before.

Bitterness hit instantly.

Her face scrunched up like a bitter gourd.

Gojo smiled faintly as he pinched her chin, feeding her water.

Warmth washed the taste away.

Her expression settled back into calm neutrality.

The color slowly returned to her lips.

The tentacles around her ankles loosened.

As her skin shifted from gray to pale, the monsters retreated like a receding tide, dissolving into shadow.

Gojo noticed the creature’s body had grown faint—nearly transparent.

Then—

Yue lunged.

She bit into the chocolate with lightning speed.

The crisp snap echoed through the room.

Clearly traumatized by Gojo’s past thievery, she chewed rapidly, cocoa powder smearing her lips.

Gojo watched, amused. She looked exactly like a hamster hoarding food.

He flicked her cheek. “Slow down. Sensei won’t steal it.”

She ignored him, reaching for the wrapper in his hand, afraid he’d take it.

Her cheeks puffed with every chew—irresistible.

Gojo poked them again.

“Ah—” Yue suddenly tilted her head back, releasing a breathy sound.

Moonlight glimmered faintly in her abyss-red eyes.

Gojo froze—his stunned expression reflected clearly in her pupils.

“Hey,” he said softly, eyes lighting up as he pulled out another piece of chocolate. “Say it again. Say ‘Sensei,’ and I’ll give it to you.”

His fingers waved temptingly.

The scent of cocoa butter filled the air.

Yue’s gaze locked onto the chocolate.

She opened her mouth—

Snap.

Her canine tooth clamped firmly down on Gojo Satoru’s index finger.

Chapter Text

The headlights carved a cold white line through the misty night.

A black sedan sped along the winding mountain road, tires crunching softly over gravel with a muted swish.

Ijichi Kiyotaka gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had gone pale, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror every few seconds.

In the back seat, Gojo Satoru lounged lazily, chin propped in one hand, twirling a strand of raven-black hair between his fingers. Passing streetlights fractured his handsome features into fleeting shadows and light.

As if sensing the staring, he suddenly lifted his gaze, catching Ijichi’s reflection in the mirror. A lazy smirk curved his lips.

“If you keep looking,” Gojo drawled, “you’ll have to pay, Ijichi.”

The flippant remark startled him so badly that Ijichi hit the accelerator on instinct. The car lurched forward before he hurriedly corrected himself, heart pounding.

Curled up comfortably on Gojo’s lap was a black-haired girl, small and warm like a satisfied kitten. Chocolate still stained the corners of her lips, unmelted traces clinging stubbornly.

As dawn mist seeped through the barely cracked window, those scarlet, catlike eyes snapped open—sharp and alert, with not a trace of sleepiness.

They locked straight onto Gojo Satoru.

“Ah—” Yue abruptly lunged upward, grabbing a fistful of his high-collared jacket, producing a single childish sound from her throat.

“Want chocolate?” Gojo flicked her smooth forehead lightly, eyes crinkling with amusement. “Call me Sensei and I’ll give it to you.”

Faint crescent-shaped bite marks were still visible on his long fingers, a clear reminder of last night’s ferocity.

Yue stared at him, then opened her mouth again. “Ah—”

“Call me Sensei.” Gojo remained endlessly patient, poking her puffed cheek. “Say it once. Fair trade.”

“Ah—”

“It’s Sensei, not ‘ah.’” He slowed his tone deliberately. “Sen—sei—”

“Ah—”

“Sensei—”

“…Hmm.”

“……”

Realization dawned.

Gojo pinched her cheek in disbelief. “Are you seriously playing dumb on purpose? Is my student taking advantage of her teacher?”

“—Ah—” She continued producing meaningless syllables, clearly refusing to cooperate without chocolate.

Gojo sighed dramatically and pinched her mouth shut.

Yue’s scarlet eyes stared up at him, unblinking.

A gaze that would’ve terrified anyone else looked, to Gojo, exactly like a kitten hissing.

Not only did he not let go—he maliciously squished her mouth into a perfect Psyduck shape.

Just as Yue was about to explode, he shoved the chocolate into her mouth.

**

The sedan rolled over another stretch of gravel before finally stopping near a deserted coastline.

Salty sea air rushed in, damp and cold, rattling the windows.

Ijichi turned cautiously. “Gojo-san… we’ve arrived.”

Beneath Gojo’s blindfold, a sliver of cerulean light leaked out—clear, cold, and unsettlingly sharp.

Hands in his pockets, he strolled toward the point where cursed energy was densest, Yue trailing close behind.

Waves crashed against jagged rocks, sea spray dampening her hair. Her pupils reflected the enormous shadow writhing beneath the water’s surface.

Even a Special Grade curse looked like a toy in front of Gojo Satoru.

A colossal wave roared up, forcing the curse to retreat beneath the sea—only for it to strike back moments later, countless sucker-lined tentacles shooting upward.

Dark green slime glistened sickeningly across them.

Yue reached out without hesitation, grabbed one dangling tentacle—and bit it.

“…?”

Her expression blanked.

Then emptied.

Then scrunched up like a steamed bun.

She flung the tentacle away instantly.

A confused glug echoed from the seabed. The curse froze mid-attack, stunned by this unprecedented offense.

Gojo laughed so hard his shoulders shook. He ruffled her head. “Well? Tasty?”

The enraged curse retaliated, summoning a towering wave and flailing wildly.

Gojo barely lifted his hand.

Something moved faster.

A flood of crimson-black tentacles erupted behind Yue, plunging into the sea with a sharp whoosh. A mournful howl followed. The water stilled.

Moments later, the tentacles dragged up a real octopus—half a person tall, ink still dripping, trembling in terror.

“Hey, don’t eat random things.” Gojo quickly shoved a chocolate ball into Yue’s mouth, pinching her cheek in warning.

She obediently released the octopus, which immediately fled back into the sea.

**

Gojo’s schedule was merciless.

After dealing with the curse, he had to leave immediately for another city. Yue, kicking her legs in protest, clearly refused to follow.

So he left her in the car.

“Ijichi,” he said casually, “keep an eye on her.”

The moment he left, Ijichi felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Those blood-red eyes stared at him unblinkingly.

He offered his tuna sandwich with trembling hands.

Tentacles snatched it away.

Yue took one bite—then spat it out in disgust.

A faint metallic scent filled the car.

Ijichi’s stomach churned.

“Miss Yue!” he blurted desperately. “D-Do you want chocolate?!”

The tentacles withdrew instantly.

“I—I’ll buy some!” He bolted from the car.

When Gojo returned, he found Yue curled in the back seat, belly round like a hamster, cocoa smeared across her lips.

The seat beside her was stacked with shopping bags.

“Ijichi,” Gojo asked mildly, “did you feed my student this much?”

Tearfully, Ijichi nodded. “She… wanted it…”

Two months’ salary. Gone.

Yue finished chewing and reached for more.

Empty.

She looked up.

Crunch.

Gojo bit into a chocolate bar right in front of her.

Smack!

A pale hand slammed into his chest.

“So fierce!” Gojo exclaimed. “She hit her teacher!”

Tentacles lashed wildly.

Yue turned away in a sulk.

“You mad?” Gojo teased. “Guess the special dark chocolate is mine~”

She twitched.

Chocolate appeared.

“Ah.”

Gojo fed her gently, wiping her mouth afterward.

His hand rested on her warm, rounded belly as she quickly drifted off.

**

The car stopped at a sewer entrance.

Nanami Kento waited inside.

“…And this is?” he asked.

“My student,” Gojo replied calmly.

Nanami frowned—but said nothing more.

Gojo noticed it anyway. “Relax,” he added lightly. “I’m the strongest.”

The sewer stank.

Yue opened her eyes—

And stared straight at a rotting carcass, flies buzzing.

Chapter Text

Nanami Kento’s expression was grave, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the cuff of his suit as he spoke. “The reason we dispatched a sorcerer like you this time is because we detected cursed energy that may be comparable to a Special Grade.”

Special Grade—whether sorcerer or curse—meant catastrophe.

At best, half a city reduced to ruins.

At worst, an entire country erased.

The sewers were damp and oppressive. The stench of decay clung thickly to the air, heavy enough to feel sticky against the skin.

“Yue-chan’s been staring for a while now.” Gojo Satoru adjusted the girl in his arms, lifting her slightly higher before casually ruffling her hair, his tone light, almost conversational. “So? What did you find?”

Yue’s crimson eyes were still fixed on the rotting corpse not far ahead, unblinking, as if she’d forgotten the rest of the world existed.

A large hand pressed gently—but firmly—against the back of her head, forcing her to turn away.

“You should answer your teacher properly,” Gojo said with a smile.

“…Okay.” Her reply was absentminded, her legs shifting as though she wanted to climb down.

“Don’t try to brush it off.” Gojo released his hold, setting her down. Once she steadied herself, he leaned closer, relentless. “Yue-chan. Tell your teacher what’s inside.”

She looked up at him for several seconds.

Then, without a word, she raised a slender finger and pointed.

A dark shadow scurried past the corpse.

Several grayish rats were clustered together, gnawing on a bone that gleamed faintly with a bluish sheen. Flies buzzed frantically around them.

“Bingo—correct answer.” Gojo immediately produced a piece of white chocolate, peeling it open with one hand and tapping it lightly against her lips. “Here’s Yue’s reward. Open up—”

She leaned forward and bit down without hesitation.

Gojo chuckled, withdrawing his hand before turning back to Nanami. “From what I can tell, there’s no so-called Special Grade cursed spirit here.”

Nanami’s gaze sharpened behind his glasses. He surveyed the interior of the sewer again, frowning. “No? The report from the surface detected extremely strong fluctuations in cursed energy here.”

“I knew the intel was wrong before I even came,” Gojo replied easily.

Nanami paused. “…Then why come at all?”

“Because—” Gojo drawled the word out, the teasing lilt fading as his tone turned unexpectedly serious. “I’m a responsible and excellent teacher. Things like this are always more accurate when seen up close.”

Nanami fell silent.

He’d always known that no matter how frivolous Gojo seemed, when it mattered, he was never careless.

The most reckless man alive—

Yet somehow, also the one holding this broken world together.

“See?” Gojo poked Yue’s cheek, voice instantly reverting, playful and coaxing. “Isn’t your teacher super serious and handsome~?”

“Mmm.” Yue answered with chocolate still in her mouth, her voice soft and indistinct, like melting sugar.

“That’s right—your teacher is the most handsome~” Gojo’s cerulean eyes curved with a laugh, his Adam’s apple bobbing lightly.

“….”

For reasons Nanami didn’t want to acknowledge, the damp sewer suddenly felt filled with floating pink bubbles.

Off work. Immediately. Right now.

“If the information is false, then all the better.” Nanami adjusted his glasses and turned around. “I’ll prepare to return to Tokyo.”

His leather shoes splashed through the shallow water—almost briskly.

Gojo watched his retreating figure, amusement flickering across his face. “Ah. Not quite.”

Nanami froze.

A dangerous crack echoed from his clenched knuckles.

“Please,” he said coldly as he turned back, glasses glinting. “Finish what you’re saying next time.”

Gojo shrugged. “There’s no Special Grade, sure. But something troublesome is definitely here.”

Nanami’s gaze snapped back toward the rats. “…Those?”

“Mmm~” Gojo hummed.

“Rats weaker than flies?” Nanami frowned. “That’s supposed to be comparable to a Special Grade?”

“It wasn’t like that before.” Gojo waved a finger lazily. “If it were just a cute little Mr. Rat, that’d be great, but—”

He paused deliberately.

A vein pulsed at Nanami’s temple. “What is it?”

Gojo suddenly leaned down, pressing his nose into Yue’s hair, voice dropping into a coaxing murmur. “Yue-chan, take a guess.”

“…Okay.” Her response was vague.

Dissatisfied, Gojo switched tactics, tapping her head lightly with his chin—once, twice.

Only after the chocolate fully melted did she speak again. “Ah—”

Nanami’s patience finally snapped. “What exactly is it?”

“Nanami’s so impatient~” Gojo smiled like a cat that had just stolen cream, gently pinching Yue’s parted lips. “There used to be countless cursed spirits like these here.”

Nanami’s pupils shrank. Countless.

A dense wave of cursed energy seemed to coil silently through the shadows of the sewer.

***

The conference room was cold, air conditioning blasting overhead.

Ijichi Kiyotaka stood rigid at the front, fingers trembling as he gripped his documents.

“So,” Gojo said lazily, “having cursed energy comparable to a Special Grade isn’t the real issue.”

Due to the mission’s special nature, exorcism couldn’t be done rashly. After receiving Gojo’s report, Ijichi immediately compiled the data and convened an emergency meeting.

Yue sat beside Gojo, her crimson eyes locked onto Ijichi, tentacles twitching faintly.

Feeling his heart—and wallet—ache under her stare, Ijichi instinctively looked to Gojo for help. “G-Gojo-san!”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, pinching Yue’s chin and turning her face toward him. “Isn’t it better to look at your teacher? Why are you staring at him?”

The red gaze vanished.

Ijichi exhaled in relief, wiping sweat from his forehead before continuing. “The cursed spirits discovered in the sewers are collectively known as Rat Cursed Spirits. They reproduce rapidly and—”

“What’s so interesting about him?” A man’s disgruntled voice cut in.

Ijichi flinched.

When Yue tried to turn back, Gojo pulled her fully into his arms. 

“T-They gnaw on objects infused with cursed energy,” Ijichi continued, forcing himself to stay focused, “like what we saw earlier…”

“Is he more handsome than me?” Gojo clicked his tongue. “Would he buy you chocolate like I do?” He tightened his hold, glaring. “What’s so appealing about a greasy, middle-parted salaryman?”

Ijichi—greasy, middle-parted, innocent victim—nearly cried. “G-Gojo-san… that was a bit much…”

Gojo didn’t see the issue. He was just stating facts.

Warm breath brushed Yue’s hair, carrying a sweet, creamy scent that seemed to lull her senses.

Her eyelids grew heavy.

By the time Gojo glanced down, she was already asleep against his chest.

Something feather-light brushed his heart.

“…Gojo-san?” Ijichi watched him stand abruptly. “A-Are you—?”

“Going to buy dessert,” Gojo replied casually. “If it can’t be resolved, I’ll just exorcise it.”

Nanami asked calmly, “The consequences?”

“Probably flatten the entire city.” Gojo smiled, as though commenting on the weather.

“Please let us discuss the plan again!” Ijichi’s voice cracked as his papers scattered across the floor.

“If you can’t handle it, go ask the higher-ups.” Gojo stood by the window, his cerulean eyes devoid of humor. “Otherwise, things that are too useless get disposed of.”

Ijichi froze mid-squat. Too useless… too useless…

Nanami watched Gojo’s retreating figure, only looking away once he vanished.

***

At a bustling city intersection, a black-haired girl stood motionless, clutching a brand-new stamp.

Her layered skirt fluttered in the wind, out of place amid the crowd.

She scanned the street slowly, crimson eyes searching.

People instinctively kept their distance.

Her beauty was unsettling—pale skin almost translucent beneath the sun, veins faintly visible, eyes like spilled blood.

A sudden chill swept through the street.

“Why is it cold?”

“The forecast didn’t say this…”

“What’s that smell?”

Blood-red mist seeped from Yue’s body. Space behind her warped faintly, tentacles flickering in and out of view.

“Yue-chan, did you hear what I said?” A familiar, amused voice sounded behind her.

She spun around, gripping the collar of his high-collared jacket.

“Good kids listen to their teachers, right?” Gojo cupped her chin, sunglasses slipping slightly to reveal brilliant cerulean eyes. “So you can finish this mission, yeah?”

The smile vanished.

Cold. Absolute. Godlike.

Yue tilted her head, teeth grinding lightly against the barrier on her fingers, defiant.

“Tsk. Naughty child.” Gojo immediately surrendered, producing a chocolate ball and popping it into her mouth.

The mist faded.

“However—” He leaned close, his reflection filling her eyes. “No chocolate tomorrow if you fail~”

She froze.

Then, clutching the stamp, she turned—and walked toward her destination.

Chapter Text

The afternoon sun slanted through the glass display window, scattering light across the strawberry tarts. Their glossy frosting sparkled like crushed diamonds, and the air was thick with the sweet scent of cream.

The wind chimes by the door jingled crisply.

The clerk, who had been wiping down the counter, looked up instinctively. Her practiced “Welcome!” caught in her throat—frozen halfway.

A black-haired girl stood before the window, tiptoeing slightly, her nose almost touching the glass. Long lashes cast butterfly-like shadows across her cheeks, fluttering gently with each breath.

Those eyes—

The woman unconsciously held her breath.

Crimson pupils, as if steeped in blood. Empty, emotionless—yet disturbingly clear. Like rubies suspended in a pool of midnight water. Beautiful… and deeply unsettling.

“H-hello?” The clerk’s voice wavered. Her fingers tightened around the rag as her gaze darted downward, instinctively checking the girl’s feet.

There was a shadow.

Normal. Thank goodness.

Yue suddenly turned her head and held out a brand-new stamp paper. Written across it in cute, rounded letters was Dessert Battle.

“Oh—ah.” The clerk swallowed and forced herself to smile. “W-would you like to participate in the event?”

Yue nodded, then raised her finger and pointed directly at the chocolate mousse sprinkled with crushed nuts inside the display case.

“T-this one…” The clerk lifted her eyes for barely a second before lowering them again. “I’m very sorry, but this item isn’t included in the event. The promotion only applies to yokan.”

Yue’s eyes narrowed slightly. Her lips pressed into a thin, displeased line.

The next second, she pulled out a jet-black card and slapped it onto the counter.

The message was unmistakable.

“…?” The clerk stared at the card. Then, hesitantly, she looked up—only to meet Yue’s gaze.

Every wild thought in her head vanished instantly.

“E-excuse me,” she said quickly, “would you like to purchase it separately?”

“Yes.” The voice was light, almost weightless—yet it vibrated through the clerk’s skull like a bell struck too close to the ear.

“Yes, of course!” she replied, far too fast.

She hurried around the counter and opened the display case, hands trembling as she carefully packed the mousse, moving with exaggerated caution, as though afraid the slightest mistake might provoke something terrible.

She had barely finished when Yue’s finger rose again.

Chocolate tarts.

A platter of nama chocolate.

Chocolate cookies tucked into the corner.

Her finger paused briefly on each chocolate-related item, precise and unyielding.

There were so many that the clerk had to place them all on the table. Only after even bringing out the cookies she’d been saving for herself did she belatedly ask, voice shaking, “P-please… are you dining in or taking away?”

“Yes.”

“…D-dine in?” the clerk ventured.

“Yes.” This time, the word was emphasized—firm, unmistakable.

The clerk exhaled in relief. She retrieved the promotional stamp and gently pressed a pink cherry blossom onto the stamp paper.

When she looked up again, Yue was already seated by the window, devouring the chocolate mousse with startling intensity. Her movements were hurried—almost fierce.

“Th-thank you for your patronage,” the clerk said softly, placing the stamped paper and the promotional yokan beside her.

The display case was nearly empty now. Only a few bare trays remained, reflecting a cold sheen under the lights.

Yue stared at the yokan for a moment.

She tore open the package, took one bite—and frowned.

After a brief pause, she closed the lid and stuffed it into the paper bag.

**

The second shop was a wagashi store.

When Yue pushed open the door, rows of daifuku came into view—pink, yellow, and green—lined up like tiny lanterns.

She scanned the shelves. No chocolate.

Without hesitation, she walked straight to the counter and placed the stamp paper down.

“Hey! Why are you cutting in line?” a middle-aged woman snapped from beside her.

But the moment their eyes met—

“Ah—sorry,” the woman corrected herself instantly. “I… I didn’t notice.”

The surrounding customers silently took two steps back, parting the line without a word. An odd, heavy quiet settled over the shop.

The clerk, already busy, frowned and looked up—then paled. “W-what can I help you with?” she asked.

Yue didn’t speak. She simply tapped the blank space on the stamp paper with her fingertip.

The clerk glanced down, spotted the promotional logo, and released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“S-Sachiko!” she called urgently. “Bring out the senbei!”

A girl in a bear-patterned apron responded at once, rushing out from the back with a tray.

The clerk packed the senbei as quickly as she could and slid it across the counter. “…I-is there anything else?” she asked, beads of sweat forming at her hairline.

Yue poked the empty space on the stamp paper again.

“I-I’m so sorry!” The clerk straightened instantly, yanked open a drawer, and stamped it—then even blew lightly on the ink before handing it back. “D-do you need anything else?”

Yue took the paper, tossed the senbei into the bag bearing the previous shop’s logo, turned, and left.

Behind her, the clerk wiped cold sweat from her brow.

***

Outside the teahouse, sycamore leaves rustled softly in the breeze.

Gojo Satoru leaned against the wall, phone pressed to his ear. “What is it?” he asked impatiently.

Ijichi’s voice came through the line, flustered. “S-sorry to disturb you, Gojo-san, but… you need to return to the sewers immediately.”

“Got it,” Gojo replied.

Behind his sunglasses, his cerulean eyes never left the teahouse entrance.

Yue emerged moments later, tossing a tea canister into her bag. She glanced around, then walked toward the next intersection.

Only after her figure disappeared around the corner did Gojo curl his lips into a faint smile—

And vanish from the spot.

***

The pork cutlet shop was lively, the rich scent of oil and fried food drifting far down the street.

Yue stopped beneath the sign, checked the address on her stamp paper, then stepped inside.

“Welcome! What would you like to order?” a brown-haired boy greeted enthusiastically, handing her a menu. “We have fried pork cutlet, curry pork cutlet—”

His voice faltered as he met her eyes. “A-and…” he added weakly, “we also have blind-box pork cutlet. Today’s special.”

“I’m so unlucky,” a girl in a sailor uniform complained from a nearby table. “Chocolate-filled pork cutlet? I knew I shouldn’t have ordered the blind box.”

The boy glanced over and saw the so-called special—the chef’s latest culinary experiment.

A black card was suddenly pressed into his hand.

He froze. A black card…? Unlimited?

As someone deeply familiar with web novels, his mind immediately jumped to every overpowered urban fantasy trope he’d ever read.

“Um…” he swallowed. “You want the chocolate pork cutlet?”

“Yes.”

“…Ten?” His eyes widened. “A-any promotional item counts for the stamp, you don’t need to—”

Yue didn’t waver.

The kitchen curtain flew open.

“Well, well!” A burly man in a pink cat apron strode out, arms dusted with flour, carefully carrying a plate. “This chocolate pork cutlet needs to be sliced while it’s hot—finished with Valrhona cocoa powder! Even the gods would drool!”

“Dad!” the boy hissed, grabbing his apron. “Don’t scare the customers!”

“Even a donkey needs rest!” the man barked back, then grinned at Yue. “Little girl, wait here. I’ll make you a few more, better than this one!”

“Can we close tomorrow?!” the boy groaned.

Yue stared at the pork cutlet on the plate, utterly uninterested in the argument.

The shop, usually filled with families, buzzed softly.

Chocolate aroma bloomed as the cutlet was bitten into.

“Mommy!” a little girl with a bow sniffed eagerly. “I want that pork cutlet too!”

“Finish your food first,” her mother said gently, rubbing her cheek.

“Okay!” The girl leaned closer, then tilted her head. “Sister, why are you eating with your hands?”

Yue didn’t respond. Chocolate sauce coated her fingertips.

“Sister, don’t you know how to use chopsticks?” The girl demonstrated proudly. “I’m a chopstick expert!”

“Darling,” her mother said softly, pulling her back, “don’t disturb her.”

“No!” the girl protested, tugging at Yue’s skirt. “Sister, let me teach you!”

The chewing stopped.

Yue lowered her head slowly.

The child’s carefree smile reflected in her blood-red pupils.

“Wow!” the girl gasped. “Sister, your eyes are so pretty—like gems on TV!”

Her mother laughed—until she truly looked.

Cold sweat soaked her back.

She pulled her daughter into her arms at once.

“Mommy!” the girl pouted. “I wasn’t done talking!”

“The lady likes eating alone,” the woman said, forcing a smile as she shifted away.

Yue had already moved on to her second cutlet.

The earlier disturbance might as well never have existed.

Her world had narrowed to one thing—

Chocolate-filled pork cutlet.

Chapter Text

The stamp paper was nearly saturated—red seals overlapping pink ones, scattered like fallen petals.

Yue’s cloth bag bulged at the seams. Besides the desserts and yokan she’d already collected, it somehow held a golden pineapple, a neatly folded white shirt, a cat-patterned towel, and even a blue plastic mouthwash cup.

If not for the event stamps, one might’ve thought she’d gone grocery shopping instead of attending a Dessert Battle.

The last shop connected to the event was a cake store, its glass windows fogged faintly by the rich scent of cream.

Yue’s shadow stretched across the glass as she stopped before the door.

Behind the counter, the clerk stiffened. His expression wavered as he stammered, voice barely above a whisper, “I—I’m sorry… we’re sold out for today. We won’t have more until tomorrow…”

Yue looked at him.

She didn’t speak. She didn’t frown.

Yet the air seemed to thicken. The pressure bore down so quietly it was suffocating.

The clerk shuddered, panic flashing across his face. “P-Please wait! I’ll— I’ll talk to the boss right away! I’ll definitely find a solution!”

Yue nodded.

Her fingers brushed the spiky leaves of the pineapple in her bag. The fine fuzz tickled her skin, and she rubbed it absently, once… twice.

The clerk fled toward the kitchen as though escaping a curse.

Moments later, a loud crash rang out from behind the doors. A man in a white apron stormed out, irritation clear on his face—only to halt mid-step.

He coughed, took two steps back, and cleared his throat. “…My apologies. Please wait ten minutes.”

When the dessert was finally handed over, the clerk stamped the last square on Yue’s paper with visible relief.

The sun dipped low, bathing the street in honeyed light. Even the breeze felt warm, carrying a faint sweetness with it.

Yue tucked the final mission item into her bag and stepped outside—

Straight into a stretch of brilliant blue sky.

Gojo Satoru stood there, backlit by sunlight, arms spread wide. He pushed his sunglasses up into his white hair, dappled light catching on his lashes as his uniform fluttered in the breeze like the wing of some flamboyant butterfly.

Yue’s steps quickened without her realizing it. She barreled straight into him, bag and all.

“Missed me, Yue-chan?” Gojo wrapped an arm around her waist easily, his other hand landing atop her head and giving it an unapologetically rough rub. “Good job on the mission. All the stamps are filled—very diligent.”

“…Mm.” Her reply came muffled, almost kitten-like, vibrating faintly through his chest.

Gojo’s grin widened, utterly unrestrained.

With one arm, he lifted her clean off the ground—then, as if reconsidering, caught her again at the waist and settled her securely against him.

The bag slipped from her grasp and hit the pavement with a dull thud, spilling several small wooden toys across the ground.

Yue instinctively looped her arms around his neck. One hand crept up, fingers secretly snagging a loose strand of hair at the nape of his neck.

“A reward.” Gojo fished a chocolate bar from his pocket and stuffed it into her hands, scooping up the abandoned bag with the other. “Payment for hard work.”

Yue took a large bite.

She froze mid-chew.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze beneath her bangs. Gojo had already slid his sunglasses back on, expression perfectly innocent.

“Why are you staring at your teacher?” he asked, mockingly surprised. “Didn’t I give the chocolate to Yue?”

Silence.

Yue glanced down at the half-bitten chocolate. She released his hair, focusing instead on unwrapping the rest.

Just as the dark brown surface was revealed—

Snap.

A flash of white. A clean sound.

The chocolate was gone.

Yue looked up.

Gojo chewed leisurely, cheeks slightly puffed. His sunglasses had slipped just enough to reveal a glimpse of cerulean beneath.

“You’ve already eaten plenty,” he said solemnly. “I’m reluctantly helping you finish it. Otherwise, you’ll get indigestion.”

He swallowed, entirely unrepentant, even licking a trace of chocolate from his lips. “It’s good. I’ll buy more next time.”

Yue stared at him.

As he leaned closer again, she hastily stuffed the remaining chocolate tail into her mouth and jabbed his cheek with a cocoa-dusted finger, leaving a faint brown smudge.

“…Bad.”

“That’s pretty rude,” Gojo laughed, eyes crinkling. “Talking to your teacher like that.”

Across the street, a girl with a ribbon paused, staring. She barely had time to step forward before an older woman tugged her away.

“What are you looking at, Yue?” Gojo followed her gaze—but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Yue didn’t answer. Instead, she leaned in, clumsy and tentative, rubbing her cheek lightly against his.

Gojo startled—then immediately grinned and rubbed back in exaggerated retaliation.

His pale cheeks flushed pink from the motion, like early cherry blossoms blooming against snow.

***

Ijichi was on the verge of snapping his pen.

The sewer map sprawled across the conference table, lines and routes tangled into a maddening mess. The Rat Curse Spirit problem was far worse than expected—Japan’s sewer systems were interconnected, making containment dangerously tricky.

Meanwhile, the strongest sorcerer alive lounged comfortably on a leather sofa in the hotel’s presidential suite.

An anime played on the television, its cold glow illuminating Gojo Satoru’s relaxed profile. Desserts crowded the coffee table—some bought by Yue during the event, others added later by Gojo himself.

“Ah—” Gojo stared at the screen, mouth open expectantly. “Yue, daifuku. Strawberry filling.”

Yue immediately picked one up, peeled away the rice paper, and brought it to his lips.

He bit down happily. “Next, tiger-skin cake. Cut it into small pieces.”

Ding-dong.

The doorbell rang.

“Yue-chan, get the door,” Gojo ordered lazily, eyes never leaving the screen.

Yue padded over in her fluffy slippers.

The door cracked open—

A pair of sharp, scarlet eyes stared back.

Nanami Kento adjusted his glasses calmly. “Thank you.”

Yue blinked, studied him for a moment, then stepped aside.

“Nanami-san~ good evening!” Gojo waved without sitting up. “What brings you here? Want to watch anime with us?”

Nanami frowned. “Ijichi has finalized the plan. In three days, all targets will be lured to the designated location. You’re handling the extermination.”

“Hm.” Gojo replied absentmindedly, fingers idly hooking the hem of Yue’s skirt as she returned to the sofa. “By the way, where’s my cream puff?”

Yue paused. “…Mm.”

The classic random acknowledgment.

Gojo’s expression collapsed. “Hey—! That doesn’t count! I want it now, or I’m going on strike!”

Nanami’s lips twitched. The jujutsu world is doomed.

Unbothered, Yue reached for the cream puff, unwrapped it, and held it out.

Gojo bit in happily. “Don’t forget the tiger-skin cake too.”

Having a teacher like this was a curse in itself.

Nanami looked at Yue with genuine sympathy.

“You’re still here?” Gojo asked mid-chew, as though just noticing him. “Anything else?”

“The student ID arrived.” Nanami placed a gold-embossed envelope on the table.

Gojo instantly sat up, tore it open, and flicked the card between his fingers.

[Yue — Special Grade Sorcerer]

Nanami glanced at Yue, calmly cutting cake. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Gojo’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Yes. Still annoying.”

He disliked flies.

The air temperature dipped.

The chandelier hummed faintly.

Yue sensed it. She lifted a forkful of cake and gently pressed it to his lips.

Gojo lowered his gaze.

Her eyes—clear, crimson, untainted.

The tension melted.

He ruffled her hair hard, bit the cake, and relaxed instantly. “Nanami, anything else? If not, we’re busy.”

“The uniform arrives the day after tomorrow,” Nanami said, loosening his tie.

“I know~” Gojo replied lightly, lashes lowering to hide the complexity beneath.

Nanami left.

The anime’s ending theme drifted through the room. Moonlight filtered in through the trees outside.

Gojo checked Yue’s stomach without shame, then stretched. “Dinner time.”

Yue looked up at the line of his waist beneath the black uniform.

Her fingers twitched.

Gojo caught her wrist. “Let’s go. I ordered eel rice—freshly grilled, special sauce and all.”

Chapter Text

The morning mist had yet to fully disperse. Cool forest air, heavy with dew, brushed against Yue’s skirt, dampening the hem as it clung lightly to her calves.

She didn’t notice.

Her gaze remained fixed on the withered leaves scattered at her feet.

The next second, shadowy tentacles burst from her sleeve like lightning, lashing straight into the abandoned well. The cursed spirit inside didn’t even have time to scream before it was torn apart—shredded and erased beneath the quiet glow of morning light.

Sunbeams filtered through the canopy above, drifting down like scattered gold and catching in Yue’s dark hair. She flicked her wrist, the mission report rustling softly between her fingers.

She slid the page labeled “Cursed Spirit in the Well” to the back, revealing the next assignment:

“Suburban Orchard.”

Her eyes paused.

Yue reached into her coat and pulled out a small notepad.

On the slightly yellowed paper was a flamboyant list written in a bold, arrogant hand:

Shell macarons. Strawberry daifuku. Tiger-skin cake.

The list ended with a crooked smiley face.

The handwriting alone was enough to identify its owner.

At the foot of the mountain, Ijichi waited beside the car. The moment Yue approached, he hurriedly handed her a bag of chocolates, his voice lowered to a near whisper, as if afraid the words themselves might carry consequences. “Gojo-san said… Miss Yue can only eat half in the morning.”

Yue didn’t respond.

She opened the car door, slid into the back seat, took out a piece of dark chocolate, and unwrapped it with practiced ease before taking a bite.

The rich bitterness bloomed across her tongue. She licked her lips, visibly satisfied.

The cursed spirit lurking in the suburbs had barely finished forming before Yue exorcised it—quick, clean, merciless.

By the time the mission concluded, the sun was already high, its warmth settling comfortably over the land.

Ijichi drove them back to the hotel, only allowing himself a deep, exhausted sigh once he watched Yue disappear into the elevator—arms full of sweets and the mission paperwork Gojo had been supposed to handle himself.

***

When the door opened, morning light poured through the sheer curtains, weaving a golden net across the bed and outlining the slender figure sprawled atop it.

White hair lay scattered messily over pale pillows, like fresh snow caught in drifting clouds.

Sensing movement, the person on the bed lazily cracked open his eyes. Misty cerulean glanced through sleep-heavy lashes as he spoke, his voice hoarse. “Did you buy the desserts, Yue?”

Yue nodded.

She pulled out the limited-edition shell macarons he’d specifically requested and stepped closer to the bed.

Just as her fingers began unwrapping the paper, her wrist was caught.

She was tugged forward without warning, pulled to the edge of the mattress. A calloused thumb brushed the corner of her lips, wiping away a faint smear of chocolate.

Gojo Satoru propped himself up, lifting his thumb with a grin. “Well?” he said lightly. “Tell sensei, how much did you eat?”

Yue blinked.

Long lashes fluttered as she gave him a perfectly innocent look, the kind that clearly said I have no idea what you’re talking about.

A warm hand slid to her abdomen, pressing gently through the fabric. Gojo paused, fingers noting the faint firmness beneath the cotton.

He began massaging slowly, deliberately.

The bloated discomfort eased almost immediately.

Yue, who’d been up early covering missions in his place, yawned softly. Her crimson eyes curved into crescents as a pleased whimper slipped from her throat—quiet, kitten-like.

After a moment, she pushed his hand away.

Then, without hesitation, she climbed onto the bed—his bed—and slipped beneath the covers.

Gojo glanced down.

She had already found a comfortable position and, entirely unashamed, tugged his hand back to rest against her stomach.

Her lashes drooped. Red eyes peeked sleepily through half-lowered lids, docile and trusting.

Gojo chuckled.

He lay back down, one arm tucked behind his head, the other resuming its slow, absent-minded massage.

Sunlight spilled through the French windows, bathing the room in honeyed warmth. The temperature control system hummed softly, maintaining a perfect twenty-three degrees.

Wrapped around Yue’s slightly cooler body, Gojo Satoru drifted into sleep.

***

The sudden ringing of a phone shattered the quiet.

It rang once.

Twice.

Yue stirred, nuzzling against Gojo’s chest in mild protest.

Without opening his eyes, Gojo reached for the black phone on the bedside table and answered.

Ijichi’s strained voice spilled out immediately. “Gojo-san… please proceed to Location Three immediately. The rendezvous needs to happen now—”

“I know,” Gojo drawled, rolling onto his back. He brushed his hair away from his forehead, yawned, then sat up.

Yue shifted, disturbed. Her head tipped back, crimson eyes half-open and unfocused.

“Sleep a little longer,” Gojo murmured. “Or come on a mission with your teacher?”

He lifted her effortlessly and settled her onto his lap, pinching her sleep-reddened cheeks.

Yue closed her eyes again, rubbing her cheek against his chin. Once she felt the warmth of his presence, she wrapped her arms around his neck and promptly went back to sleep.

The answer was obvious.

She wanted both.

***

When Gojo entered the sewers—Yue curled against him like a small, attached ornament—the rat-extermination operation had just concluded.

Nanami Kento turned sharply at their arrival. “Everyone, retreat.”

Gojo slid his sunglasses into his collar, cerulean eyes locking onto the cursed spirit ahead. “Wow,” he said lightly. “That’s a big one.”

The curse was a grotesque fusion of countless rat spirits, its twisted form radiating power several times stronger than anticipated.

“Special-grade,” Nanami confirmed. “The report underestimated it.”

The creature roared, its shrill cry slicing through the tunnels.

Yue stirred.

Still half-asleep, she lifted her head, rubbed her eyes—and reached out.

A flash of crimson cursed energy burst forth.

The curse shattered instantly, dissolving into nothing.

One hit.

Nanami froze mid-step, eyes widening behind his glasses. “Incredible,” he breathed.

“Yue-chan is amazing~” Gojo said cheerfully, rubbing his cheek against Yue’s.

Groggy, Yue nuzzled back on instinct, then tucked herself closer to his neck, fingers stealthily plucking a strand of white hair before falling asleep again.

***

On the drive back, Ijichi’s back was soaked with cold sweat.

“The mission has been transferred to Miss Yue’s name,” he said shakily. “The bonus will be paid accordingly… but the director’s office—”

“They won’t approve leave again?” Gojo interrupted casually.

The window cracked with a sharp crack, spiderweb fractures spreading outward.

Ijichi nearly slammed the accelerator.

“They said the mission is extremely dangerous,” he stammered. “And that only you can handle it…”

Gojo’s smile vanished.

“If any of my students lose even a single hair,” he said calmly, voice freezing the air, “they can prepare to write their wills. Together.”

Silence.

Then, just as suddenly, he relaxed—twirling Yue’s hair between his fingers.

“Eyes on the road,” he added mildly. “Try not to crash.”

At their destination, Gojo pinched Yue’s nose to wake her.

She blinked slowly, unfocused crimson reflecting his face up close.

Without thinking, she leaned forward and rubbed against his chin.

Cute.

Gojo laughed softly, rubbing back until a faint blush bloomed across her cheeks.

Their destination wasn’t a dessert shop.

It was a phone store.

Gojo pointed at the display. “Which one does Yue-chan like?”

Yue’s gaze landed on the black phone.

Gojo paused. “…Black?”

She tugged at his sleeve. “Sensei.”

“…Say it again,” he coaxed.

“Sensei.”

Satisfied, he nodded. “Alright.”

Moments later, Yue stared silently at the pink phone placed in her hands.

Gojo grinned smugly. “Girls should use pretty

colors.”

A tentacle smacked against the air in protest.

“Ah~” Gojo laughed, producing a white phone. “Sensei got one too.”

Yue glanced between the two.

The dissatisfaction in her eyes slowly faded.

Chapter Text

The black sedan rolled to a slow stop in front of the apartment building.

Ijichi Kiyotaka lowered the window and whispered, “Gojo-san, we’ve arrived.”

Sunlight filtered through the car window, falling across the man in the back seat. It caught on his pale lashes, scattering soft shadows beneath his eyes, the tips of his eyelashes dusted with gold as if brushed by light itself.

Gojo Satoru bit off the last piece of his tricolor dango, casually flicking the bamboo skewer into the car’s trash bin.

Ijichi stepped out first, opened the trunk, and retrieved several shopping bags. One of them bore a bright yellow monster logo, department store ribbons still clinging to the fabric.

Gojo took the bags in one hand and Yue’s hand in the other, leading her inside.

The hallway lights flicked on as they walked, the metallic click crisp in the quiet space. Gojo pushed the door open and bent down, pulling out a pair of pink cotton slippers embroidered with cat paw prints from the shoe cabinet.

Yue shuffled into the living room, slippers pattering softly. She tossed the documents she’d been holding onto the coffee table and headed straight for the kitchen without a word.

Gojo changed his shoes and dropped the monster-shaped paper bag onto the sofa. The knot hadn’t been tied properly—half of a strangely shaped doll’s leg slipped out, its deep purple fur gleaming sharply in the sunlight.

A moment later, Yue emerged from the kitchen with a piece of chocolate between her lips, cocoa powder faintly smudged at the corner of her mouth. She’d clearly been sneaking snacks.

Her eyes immediately locked onto the paper bag.

She rushed over and tore it open.

Two shockingly ugly plush toys tumbled out, bouncing twice on the carpet.

Calling them “ugly-cute” would’ve been generous. Their tie-dyed fur twisted into warped, uneven shapes, like rags soaked and wrung dry. Two oversized glass eyes were embedded in flat faces, the whites tinged gray. Their mouths gaped open, exposing uneven rows of white plastic teeth. Even the stitching was crooked and grotesque—it looked exactly like something that had crawled out of a low-budget horror movie.

The card tucked inside read Laboratory Monster Series, the gold lettering dusted with silver powder.

Looking closer, it became clear that while the two dolls were from the same series, they weren’t identical.

The blue-eyed one was larger, its fur darker and rougher.

The red-eyed one was smaller, softer, streaked with faint pink tie-dye patterns.

When Gojo returned from the kitchen with a cake, he found Yue burying her face straight into the belly of the blue-eyed monster.

The plush fur swallowed most of her face, only a few strands of hair sticking up at the crown of her head.

Objectively speaking, it was incredibly ugly. The kind of gift that would usually get tossed aside as a prank.

He genuinely couldn’t understand why she’d picked this one when there had been so many cute options.

“You like it that much?” Gojo swallowed the cream in his mouth, walked over, and flicked her puffed cheek with a finger still smeared with strawberry jam.

“Sensei!” Yue suddenly lifted the doll up, the chaotic tie-dyed fabric shimmering under the light.

“…Me?”

The cream-covered spoon clattered onto the plate. Gojo stared at the horrifyingly ugly doll, lips twitching. “Is this how you see your teacher, Yue?”

Yue nodded firmly. “Sensei.”

The outrageously handsome head of the Gojo family set the cake aside and pinched her cheek, kneading it mercilessly between his fingers. His tone turned dangerous. “I’m at least a hundred times more handsome than this.”

Yue hugged the blue doll to her chest, then pointed at the smaller red-eyed doll on the floor. “Me.”

Gojo glanced from the red-eyed doll, to Yue clutching the bigger one, and finally down at the card.

Then he laughed.

Releasing her cheek, he pulled her into his arms and rubbed his forehead lightly against hers. “So that’s how it is… You’ve got good taste.”

Yue snuggled closer, gathering the red doll into her arms as well. Her red eyes curved in quiet satisfaction.

Gojo stopped complaining about the dolls’ ugliness. Instead, he reached out and pinched the red-eyed doll’s ear.

…Surprisingly soft.

His gaze drifted to the scattered documents on the coffee table, and he shifted the blame without mercy.

“Alright,” he said lightly. “Yue needs to write her task report.”

Yue froze.

Gojo smiled, pressed her down onto the carpet, flipped open the top document, and shoved it toward her—pen included. “This looks like the task Yue handled yesterday morning.”

This heartless man not only dumped work onto his student—he even stole her report.

Yue sat on the carpet, unmoving, red eyes fixed on him for a long moment.

Gojo added calmly, “Finish writing, and we’ll go buy chocolate lava cake this afternoon.”

Yue immediately lowered her head. She stared at the densely packed words for a long while before finally placing the first dot of ink.

After finishing his dessert, Gojo suddenly remembered he hadn’t finalized a school uniform design that morning. He pulled a sketchbook from the coffee table drawer, his pen flying across the page.

Soon, a sailor-collar school uniform took shape—simple, clean.

The pen spun between his fingers. Inspiration struck, and he added a small cat paw print to the cuffs.

“Yue, look. How’s your school uniform?” He pushed the sketchbook toward her, fingertips dusted with graphite, his tone shamelessly proud.

Yue glanced up and looked at the drawing.

After a moment, she reached out and tugged gently at the hem of his clothes.

Clearly, she didn’t like the cute design. She preferred something simple—like what Gojo wore—no unnecessary decorations.

“I knew Yue-chan would like it.” Gojo was already taking a photo, sending it off without hesitation.

Yue watched him quietly.

“Sensei’s really looking forward to seeing Yue-chan wear it,” Gojo said without a trace of guilt. He ruffled Yue’s hair, his hand still smelling faintly of sweet cream. His voice dipped into a coaxing whine. “Hurry up and write, I’m hungry.”

Yue hummed softly and went back to writing the report that wasn’t hers.

A lively variety show played on the TV, laughter filling the living room.

Gojo lounged on the sofa, idly poking at the glass eyes of the small red doll in his hand.

“Ah—” he suddenly drawled, opening his mouth.

Yue didn’t even look up. Her slender fingers picked up a strawberry daifuku with precision and popped it straight into his waiting mouth.

Cream melted over his tongue. Gojo squinted in satisfaction, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “More,” he said shamelessly. “Red bean paste.”

Yue immediately found one and fed it to him.

“How about pizza for lunch?” Gojo asked, chewing as he reached out to hook a strand of her long black hair with his finger.

Yue silently sped up her writing.

**

By noon, the table was stacked with pizza boxes—cheese, beef, fruit pizzas, and Yue’s favorite chocolate thin-crust.

Watching someone carefully avoid the green peppers and only bite into the crust, Gojo remarked mischievously, “Picky eaters only get green peppers for dinner.”

Yue paused mid-bite, calmly turned the crust outward, and continued eating.

Under the table, fingers quietly brushed the green peppers aside. Tentacles opened their mouths to dispose of the evidence—only to be blocked by a black slipper.

None of it escaped Gojo’s eyes.

Yue looked up. Her red eyes met his brilliant blue ones, galaxy-bright.

She puffed out her cheeks like an aggrieved kitten and reluctantly bit into the green pepper portion.

After that, she stuck exclusively to fruit pizza.

“Ah—” Gojo’s amused voice sounded again.

Yue instinctively opened her mouth, biting into the pizza he fed her.

Cheese and beef burst across her tongue. The crust carried only the faintest trace of green pepper—no slices at all.

She glanced over.

A small plate piled high with green peppers sat beside Gojo, while the extra-large meat pizzas were completely pepper-free.

Yue swallowed, tossed aside her plastic glove, and leaned into him like a cat.

Gojo smiled, letting her rub against him.

After a moment—

“Reward.”

Yue pulled out the chocolate ball she’d earned for finishing the report, unwrapped it, and fed it to him.

Gojo accepted it happily, ruffling her hair as the chocolate melted on his tongue.

After lunch, the coffee table filled with desserts once again—daifuku, macarons, ganache, cheesecake, strawberry mousse, tiramisu, black sesame cakes…

Gojo barely bit into a strawberry daifuku before pale pink cream smeared across his lips.

He lazily licked it away, catching sight of Yue beside him, cheeks puffed like a hamster as she stuffed a chocolate puff into her mouth.

Sunlight gilded the ends of her hair. Even her lashes glowed softly.

“Eat slowly,” Gojo said, finishing his daifuku in a few bites. “No one’s stealing it.”

The words had zero credibility.

Yue hummed but didn’t slow down, immediately grabbing a macaron.

After the last dessert, Gojo lifted the drowsy girl and carried her to the second bedroom, placing the two plush toys neatly beside her pillow.

The room was warm and cozy—cream-blue sheets, star-patterned curtains, cute ornaments lining the shelves.

The master bedroom, by contrast, was cold and sparse. Aside from basic furniture, only stacks of task reports occupied the desk. It felt more like a prefab apartment than a home.

Just as Gojo closed his eyes, soft rustling came from the doorway.

A faint scent of cocoa butter drifted in.

A small body climbed onto the bed, burrowing beneath the blankets like a kitten, wriggling closer until it found the perfect spot in his arms.

Then, finally, it went still.

Chapter Text

Warm orange light—like melting honey—bathed the barbershop in a gentle glow. Even the air carried a faint, clean scent of shampoo.

Professional instinct barely managed to override fear. Tony gripped the scissors, eyes lingering on the girl’s silky black hair, and asked with a trace of pity, “Are you sure you want it cut?”

The cascading strands shimmered like silk beneath the lights, each one glossy as polished black jade—so pristine it almost felt cruel to cut.

“Waist-length,” Gojo Satoru said casually, running his fingers through Yue’s bangs. “And trim the fringe by two centimeters.”

The girl in the chair didn’t move. Her fingertips rested neatly on her knees, obedient, still—no resistance at all.

Seeing no objection from her and an unmistakable order from the adult, Tony steeled himself and made the first cut.

Snip.

Once the first lock fell, the rest followed smoothly.

Less than ten minutes later, the trim was finished.

The moment Tony set his scissors down, Yue—who had been eerily puppet-still—suddenly came back to life.

As if he’d anticipated it, Gojo opened his arms just in time to catch the small body that launched toward him like a cannonball.

“Sensei.” 

Yue tilted her head up, her face brushing close to his. Gojo leaned in naturally, allowing her cool cheek to press against his.

Two exquisite faces, touching lightly—it looked straight out of an early shoujo manga.

Around them, other customers began to stare. Some discreetly raised their phones, whispers drifting through the shop.

“Are they a couple…?” 

“That white-haired guy is really good at this…”

Yue ignored it all. She simply wrapped her arms around Gojo’s neck, clinging to him like a koala.

“Cake.”

“Okay.” Gojo adjusted his grip, one hand supporting her calves so she sat more comfortably, and walked out of the barbershop without a care in the world.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, sunlight stretched their intertwined shadows long across the pavement.

Yue clutched his snow-white hair, her crimson eyes glittering with tiny golden flecks—nothing like the emptiness from before.

Classes were promptly forgotten.

Gojo led her straight into a pink, dainty dessert shop on the corner.

The shop was small but packed with high school girls snapping photos. Pink lace curtains fluttered softly. Cream-colored tables and chairs gleamed. Even the plates were printed with little bunny patterns. Sweet scents and laughter filled the air.

The moment Gojo stepped inside, attention snapped toward him.

Long legs filled out his black trousers; a narrow waist emphasized by crisp lines. He had the height of a Westerner and the refined features of an Easterner—sunglasses or not, his looks were impossible to ignore.

Phones subtly shifted angles. Faces flushed.

Gojo didn’t notice—or didn’t care.

He strode straight to the back, pulled out a lace-trimmed chair, flipped open the menu, and ordered briskly. “Ten chocolate lava cakes. Two strawberry mousses. Three tiramisus. One nama chocolate platter. And a chocolate fountain with fruit.”

The waiter’s pen nearly sparked. “…E-Excuse me. Ten cakes?”

“Yes.” Gojo gestured toward Yue, who had dragged the opposite chair beside his and settled in close. “She likes them.”

Soon, the small table split cleanly in two.

One side bloomed with strawberry mousses and tiramisu like a pastel garden.

The other was a battlefield of dark chocolate—lava cakes steaming, glossy centers slowly oozing molten sweetness.

Yue reached out immediately, breaking off a piece of lava cake and stuffing it into her mouth.

The chocolate melted on her tongue—rich, slightly bitter, perfectly sweet.

Her lashes cast happy shadows on her cheeks; even the corners of her mouth lifted faintly.

Chocolate sauce dripped onto her pale fingers, smearing the table with sweet brown streaks.

Her cheeks puffed as she ate, cocoa smudging half her face, desserts vanishing at alarming speed.

Gojo chuckled, speared the strawberry atop his mousse, and offered it forward.

It was promptly snatched—cream and all—licked clean in one decisive motion.

Ten cakes disappeared.

Yue finally looked up at him, her face thoroughly smeared.

Gojo, meanwhile, ate neatly—unhurried, clean, not a speck of cream on his lips. His side of the table was pristine.

She glanced down at her sticky hands. At the messy table.

“Full?” Gojo noticed and lifted a blueberry toward her.

She didn’t take it. Instead, she poked at the chocolate stains with her fingertip.

Gojo set his fork down, leaned in, and gently lifted her chin. “What’s wrong?”

A chocolate smear stained her cheek like a cat’s pawprint on snow.

…Dangerously cute.

Yue’s gaze flicked to it—and without warning, she leaned forward and licked the chocolate from the back of his hand.

Warm. Soft. Wet.

Gojo inhaled sharply and yanked his hand back as if shocked.

She tilted her head, reaching to pull it back.

“No.” His voice dropped—calm, firm. “You can’t do that. It’s dirty.”

Her eyes were pure innocence.

Gojo rubbed his temple. “…Do you understand?”

“I want that.” She pointed at the spoon on his plate.

Sighing, Gojo slid the tiramisu toward her.

She shook her head and held out her sticky palm.

Ah.

Understanding dawned.

He led her to the public sink and cleaned her up properly.

Back at the table, Yue picked up his fork and copied him, neatly spearing chocolate mousse.

“…Could I get another fork?” Gojo smiled helplessly at the waiter.

After dessert came bubble tea.

Afternoon light spilled lazily across glass doors, soft music humming. Gojo sipped his absurdly sweet drink while Yue clutched an oversized chocolate milk tea, cheeks puffed.

He poked it.

Soft. Satisfying.

She drained it in record time.

Empty cup down.

“Carry me.”

“No.” Gojo crossed his arms. “Walk. Stretch your legs.”

Yue grabbed his sleeve, shaking it.

“Sensei, carry me.”

“Sensei, carry me.”

“Sensei, carry me.”

…the words repeating in the same flat tone.

He sighed, bent down.

She instantly latched on, chin perched on his shoulder, victorious.

Later, outside the school barrier, Gojo stopped. “From here on, you walk.”

Yue buried her face in his neck, whining softly.

He didn’t budge.

Eventually, she relented.

Gojo set her down and wrapped a blindfold over her eyes.

She immediately took his hand.

Under dappled sunlight, one tall shadow and one small walked the mountain path together.

***

The training grounds were lively.

Maki’s blade flashed. Panda retreated. Inumaki watched. Yuta sat curled beneath a tree.

“Your most handsome Gojo-sensei is back!” Gojo’s voice rang out.

Everyone turned.

Panda cheered. Maki scoffed. Inumaki raised a hand. “Salmon!”

“S-Sensei…” Yuta murmured.

Gojo ruffled his hair.

Instantly, tentacles shot out—bristling, warning.

Yue bared her teeth.

Yuta ducked.

“She’s going to strangle me,” Gojo laughed.

“Don’t touch him,” Yue muttered.

“Bossy.” He pinched her cheek, smoothing her hair.

She relaxed instantly.

Obedient again.

Chapter Text

Sunlight flooded the high school’s training field, dazzling enough to sting the eyes. Dust rose and swirled in the air, kicked up by violent fluctuations of cursed energy.

Zen’in Maki’s naginata slipped from her grip and hit the dirt.

Panda dropped heavily onto his back with a thud.

Inumaki Toge clutched his arm, panting, sweat streaking down his face.

All three had been thoroughly—and mercilessly—beaten by Gojo Satoru.

Meanwhile, the culprit himself looked entirely unfazed. He turned away from the field and strolled toward the sidelines, hands tucked into his pockets, voice lazy as ever.

“Alright,” he drawled. “Time to start special training for our new students.”

Yue immediately lunged forward and wrapped both arms around Gojo’s waist.

Her crimson eyes stayed locked on Okkotsu Yuta, sharp and unblinking—like a kitten guarding its food, openly hostile and entirely unapologetic.

Yuta, who already had his head lowered, bowed it even further, lips pressed into a thin, anxious line.

“Yuta’s been at the school long enough,” Gojo said lightly, reaching out to pat the boy’s lowered head. “Time to start proper lessons.”

Yue grinned.

“…Mm.” Yuta’s voice barely carried, the sound small and strained, eyes still glued to the ground.

Without even looking, Gojo ruffled Yue’s soft hair. “Come along too, Yue.”

Instantly, she relaxed—eyes narrowing contentedly as she rubbed her head against his palm like a spoiled cat.

Yuta stole a glance through the gap in his bangs.

For some reason, the scene made his chest tighten.

The closeness between Gojo-sensei and this new classmate… it was far more intimate than he’d expected.

After circling the main building, the group arrived at the underground training area.

“After all,” Gojo said cheerfully, his black blindfold catching the cold overhead light, “you’re being taught by the strongest. You’d better study hard.”

Yue nodded obediently.

Yuta nodded too—slower, more hesitant.

Gojo pointed toward two unopened juice cans resting against the far wall. Pale blue cursed energy shimmered faintly around his fingertips.

“Watch closely.”

Bang.

The can on the right exploded instantly, pink juice splattering across the wall in a violent bloom—like a grotesque flower.

The can on the left twisted unnaturally, metal warping inward as liquid seeped down the cracks, thick and slow, like a crawling snake.

“The right,” Gojo said casually, “was destroyed with cursed energy. The left was altered by a technique.”

Yue stared at the mess.

Yuta finally lifted his head completely, eyes wide with astonishment.

“Got it?” Gojo tilted his head, tone light.

Silence.

“Sensei… I’m sorry…” Yuta murmured, shrinking in on himself like a scolded puppy.

Behind Yue, several thin tentacles quietly unfurled and crept toward the crushed can.

“It’s fine,” Gojo said gently, rubbing Yuta’s head. “We’ll try another—”

Smack.

One of the tentacles abruptly snapped sideways and slapped Yuta across the arm.

Yue puffed out her cheeks, glaring fiercely as she stepped forward, baring her teeth.

Yuta broke out in a cold sweat, instinctively grabbing the writhing tendrils around his body. “…S-sorry…” he apologized automatically.

Long, pale fingers suddenly hooked into the back of Yue’s collar, lifting her clean off the ground.

She flailed midair, legs kicking defiantly.

“Did you understand?” Gojo asked calmly, holding her like an indignant kitten.

Yue froze.

Her tentacles drooped and curled inward, instantly subdued.

“You can’t bully your classmates,” Gojo said, setting her down and pinching her cheek with deliberate seriousness. “They’re your companions.”

Among sorcerers, that word carried weight.

Bound by missions and bloodshed, students at Jujutsu High formed bonds far deeper than those in ordinary schools.

“…Sensei.” Yue looked up, reaching out for him.

Tap.

A finger knocked lightly against her forehead.

Gojo smiled dangerously, voice drawn out. “It’s—time—for—class—”

Her lashes fluttered. Tears welled instantly, glassy and pitiful.

Gojo sighed, completely defeated. He leaned down and nudged his cheek against hers. “Alright, alright. Pay attention.”

The tears vanished.

Yue immediately nuzzled back, her cowlick bobbing triumphantly.

“…Let’s continue,” Gojo said, resigned. He pressed a hand down on each student’s head. “Yue, activate your technique.”

She blinked.

Crimson cursed energy flashed—

The deformed can shattered instantly into fragments.

“That’s it.” Gojo pulled out a chocolate, unwrapped it, and brushed his fingers lightly against her lips before placing it into her mouth. “Good job.”

After appeasing the spoiled menace, he turned to the boy lurking near the corner. “Yuta, your turn.”

“I… I don’t know my technique…” Yuta said quietly, fingers twisting into the hem of his uniform until his knuckles went white.

He didn’t want to summon Rika.

Not again.

Gojo hummed, rubbing his chin. “Can you still call her?”

“…Here?” Yuta looked up, conflicted.

“Relax.” Gojo ruffled Yue’s hair. “She’ll keep things under control, right?”

Yue nodded immediately.

Tentacles spilled across the floor like a nest of waiting serpents.

Yuta took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

The shadows tore open.

Rika emerged—massive, twisted, limbs swaying. [Yuta—I love Yuta—]

Gojo pointed at the empty can. “That’s your only target. Don’t touch the walls. Principal Yaga will cry.”

Yuta stared at his hands.

Hands that had once been stained with blood.

He looked up at Gojo—who smiled easily—and finally stepped forward.

Only the can… Don’t hurt anything else…

Rika’s limbs wrapped around the aluminum.

Crack.

It shattered cleanly.

Gojo whistled. “See? Great job. You can put her away.”

Yuta exhaled shakily as Rika vanished, shoulders finally relaxing.

Yue suddenly shoved a chocolate into his hand.

Yuta blinked, staring down at it.

Gojo glanced between the two—and immediately caught on.

A grin spread across his face.

“What’s this, Yuta?” he asked innocently.

Yue tugged at his sleeve, flustered.

Gojo laughed and relented, pulling out another chocolate and feeding it to her.

She squinted happily. “Sensei.”

Yuta unwrapped his chocolate and took a bite.

It was sweeter than he expected.

Something tight in his chest slowly eased.

**

After the lesson, Gojo strode into the lounge, yanked open a locker, and held up a disc. “Final training—horror movie.”

Silence.

“It’s C-rated,” he added dramatically, clutching his chest. “Sensei worked very hard.”

Yue grabbed his hand and pressed it to her cheek.

Yuta hesitated. “…Thank you for your hard work, Sensei.”

Gojo blinked—then promptly shoved two cursed cores into their hands. “You’ll be watching while holding these.”

A battered teddy bear snored softly.

Yue glanced at it, unimpressed.

Yuta poked it cautiously.

“They have special effects,” Gojo said cheerfully.

The bears sprang to life.

Yue’s tentacles ripped one apart instantly.

Yuta was slower—taking a solid swipe to the cheek and stumbling back in shock.

“These need constant cursed energy,” Gojo explained, laughing. “Lose focus, and they beat you up.”

He plopped down between them, smug. “Training is about emotional stability. Fear, excitement, nausea—control your output.”

The students complied, this time carefully.

Satisfied, Gojo slid the disc in. “The villain gets chopped into eight pieces—”

He turned back grinning, fangs flashing.

Of course—

It wasn’t like anyone here could stop him anyway.

Chapter Text

Gojo Satoru had just sunk into the plush sofa when a black-haired girl clutching a cursed doll collided straight into him.

By pure habit, he wrapped one arm around his newly acquired human accessory, while the other stretched lazily across the coffee table to hook the popcorn bucket within reach.

Yuta Okkotsu hesitated for a brief second before quietly sitting down beside him.

Just as Gojo Satoru’s long fingers dipped into the bucket and picked up a clump of caramel-coated popcorn, Yue leaned in without warning. Her nose brushed against his wrist as she snapped the popcorn away with her canine teeth.

Gojo lowered his gaze.

The girl had already bitten down, her head moving along with his fingers. Without a shred of hesitation—or adult self-awareness—he casually shoved the rest of the popcorn into her mouth, then popped a few more into his own.

Yue chewed slowly, her eyes drifting toward the popcorn bucket perched precariously at the edge of the table. She reached out, pinched a small clump stuck together by melted sugar, and turned to Gojo.

He was focused intently on the screen. With his blindfold off, his cerulean eyes reflected the cold glow of the movie, sharp yet oddly gentle, even his jawline softened by the light.

Yue lifted the caramel clump to his lips.

Just as Gojo opened his mouth to bite it, the corner of her lips curled—barely, but unmistakably.

“More.” After swallowing, Gojo poked her cheek with sugar-sticky fingers, utterly shameless.

Yue stared at the damp sheen on her fingertips. Her eyes brightened.

She promptly hugged the popcorn bucket to her chest, squeezed herself closer—cursed corpse doll included—and began feeding the large cat with solemn dedication.

Gojo accepted the offering with enthusiasm. When the bucket was emptied, he simply shoved another into her arms, his voice dipping into something unreasonably coaxing. “Continue.”

The movie reached its peak. On-screen, the protagonists had just cracked open the first hidden chamber.

Yuta’s wide eyes were glued to the screen. The cursed corpse doll in his arms remained peacefully “asleep,” its fur not twitching thanks to stable cursed energy.

Nestled against Gojo’s chest, Yue was wrapped in his faint, creamy scent. Sleep tugged heavily at her eyelids, each blink slower than the last. Still, she stubbornly forced her eyes open—

—and then promptly dozed off.

The cursed doll in her arms suddenly activated and punched her square in the face.

Gojo Satoru, ever the menace, happily watched the chaos unfold. He had a habit of half-watching movies while actively causing problems.

Sometimes he’d pinch Yue’s cheek without warning. Sometimes he’d lightly brush Yuta’s arm.

Each time the cursed doll reacted violently to unstable control, Gojo laughed so hard he nearly fell over, all while snapping photos to expand the ever-growing folder of embarrassing memories on his phone.

The ending theme rolled just as class officially ended.

Gojo first took the two students to register their cursed energy, then swung by the administrative office to pick up their custom uniforms.

Maki had extra physical training in the afternoon. She took her uniform and headed straight for the training field, tossing a curt, “Goodbye,” over her shoulder.

As for Yue—

The setting sun stretched long shadows across the girls’ dormitory. Orange-red light dusted Gojo Satoru’s white hair in gold.

He looked down at the girl clutching his sleeve, helpless amusement tugging at his lips. “The dorm’s all ready.”

Even if he weren’t an adult man, she was still a student. She couldn’t stay with him forever.

Yue pressed her lips into a straight line. Her grip tightened until her knuckles turned white, stubbornly refusing to let go.

“Youth is about hanging out with your peers,” Gojo said gently, crouching so they were eye-level. “Causing trouble together. Copying homework before exams. Then getting punished and running laps side by side.”

“No.” Her thin arms looped around his neck. Her voice hit his chest, muffled.

She didn’t like them. She only wanted the teacher.

Hot tears splashed onto Gojo’s collarbone, burning as they slid down his skin.

Yue’s sobs grew louder—raw and unfiltered, nothing like her usual fake pitiful act. Her shoulders shook violently, like a kitten abandoned on the street.

When his phone buzzed for the third time in his pocket, Gojo finally gave in. He pinched the back of her neck and gently lifted her.

Her tear-streaked face glowed in the sunset.

He sighed.

“Want to go eat cake with your teacher?” He lifted her higher, bouncing her slightly as his thumb brushed away her tears. “Chocolate?”

Yue didn’t answer. She just clung tighter, burying her face into the crook of his neck, breath hitching.

Gojo carried her into a downtown Tokyo cake shop, pushed the door open, and calmly ordered every chocolate dessert on the menu.

They sat by the window. He forked a piece of tiramisu dusted with gold leaf and held it to her lips. “It’s good.”

Yue stared at him with red, watery eyes—like she was making sure he wasn’t going anywhere.

After a few seconds, she opened her mouth and took a bite.

“See?” Gojo smiled, eating along with her.

They demolished nearly everything, leaving only a massive chocolate cake behind.

Knowing she’d overdo it if left alone, Yue placed Gojo’s hand on her stomach before stubbornly digging in again.

Gojo restrained her with a sigh and had the remaining cake boxed up.

**

By the time they returned to Jujutsu High, the sky had settled into a deep, tranquil blue.

He set her down at the dorm entrance and tucked the cake box into her arms. “This can only be eaten when your teacher comes back. Got it?”

Yue nodded.

“And put it in the fridge,” Gojo added, patting her head. “There’s a mini fridge upstairs. Go on, we’ll eat it together when I’m back.”

“Okay.” Her voice was still hoarse.

She walked toward the building, glancing back every few steps until Gojo waved. Only then did she hurry inside.

A black sedan waited at the school gate.

Ijichi sat in the driver’s seat. Seeing Gojo arrive late, he started, “Gojo-san—”

“Later,” Gojo interrupted, slumping into the back seat. “I finally calmed her down, and she pulls this again.”

Ijichi stepped on the gas, hesitating before asking softly, “…That was Yue, right?”

“Yeah. So troublesome.” Gojo gestured with his fingers. “She cries if I leave her alone for even a second.”

Ijichi stole a glance through the rearview mirror.

Gojo was complaining—but he was smiling. Humming, even.

He’s clearly enjoying this, Ijichi thought.

***

Jujutsu High Cafeteria

Zen’in Maki grabbed a black-haired boy by the collar mid-step. “Where’s the one who was with you?”

If she remembered right, that idiot teacher had been bragging in the group chat yesterday about enrolling a new classmate today.

“I… don’t know…” Yuta Okkotsu murmured.

“You weren’t together this afternoon?” Panda leaned in, ears twitching. “Did Satoru drag her off on a mission?”

Inumaki Toge pointed toward a nearby table. “Salmon.”

Yuta paused, remembering the five messages he’d received earlier.

“…Sensei went on a mission alone,” he said hesitantly. “She… should be in the dorm?”

Maki clicked her tongue, setting down her chopsticks. “Skipping meals already?”

“Maybe new students don’t need to eat,” Panda said brightly. “She’s eaten a lot lately—”

“Then spit out the pork jerky.” Maki sneered.

“No! Panda loves pork jerky!” Panda protested. “And Panda doesn’t like bamboo leaves!”

“No one asked.” Maki smacked him on the head with her chopsticks.

“W—Toge, did you see that?!” Panda wailed, lunging at Inumaki. “Maki is so mean!”

The panda crashed into him. Inumaki braced himself with his legs, calmly chewing his rice ball. “Tuna.”

Annoyed, Panda bounced away—

—and slammed straight into Yuta.

With a loud crash, Yuta toppled over with his chair, curry splattering across the floor.

“Why’d you hit Bean Sprout?!” Maki snapped. “You know he’s not sturdy!”

Someone who got winded from running laps had no chance against a full-speed panda.

Panda scrambled up, ears drooping. “Yuta… I— I’m sorry—”

“I-It’s my fault…” Yuta hunched over, hair hiding his pale face. “I’m… sorry…”

“No!! It’s my fault!” Panda yelled, tail puffed up. “I didn’t mean to!”

Inumaki extended a hand. “Salmon.”

“…Thank you.” Yuta took it and stood, uniform stained and messy.

Inumaki patted Panda’s head, then pointed at the fallen tray.

“I’ll buy super deluxe curry!” Panda announced, bolting off and nearly knocking over another table.

Maki hooked a chair with her foot and sat back down, silent.

A while later, Panda returned with a fresh tray, setting it down carefully. 

“Maki… aren’t you full?” he asked in a small voice.

“Mind your business.” She stared at the menu board for a long moment before suddenly turning around.

“Besides chocolate,” Maki asked flatly, “what else does that idiot like to eat?”

Chapter Text

“The new classmate?” Panda stroked his fluffy chin, recalling the grand buffet spectacle from earlier that day. He spoke with uncertainty. “She seems to like everything… except sashimi.”

That girl was ruthless. She’d wiped out an entire Grade 2 cursed spirit bonus meal by herself. When Panda had peeked at the receipt, the number had nearly scared his panda eyes out of their sockets.

Zen’in Maki frowned, remembering Yue’s terrifying appetite, and made a decisive call. “One of everything from the first row.”

Inumaki Toge quietly stepped over and pointed at the dessert section of the cafeteria menu. “Salmon.”

“Brownies,” Panda immediately chimed in. “That girl will definitely like brownies. Let’s get five.”

Maki shoved the packed meals into Panda’s and Inumaki’s arms, then turned and strode back to the table. She tossed the box of brownies straight at Okkotsu Yuta, who was still staring blankly at the tabletop.

“Move it,” she said. “We’re going to the dorm.”

Despite the small number of students at Jujutsu High, the dormitories were strictly segregated by gender.

Maki led the way, carrying a bulging food box as the night breeze stirred the ends of her neatly tied hair. The three boys followed close behind her, strung together like a crooked skewer of candied hawthorn.

As they entered the girls’ dormitory corridor, Maki muttered flatly, “Are you guys perverts?”

Panda patted his round belly defensively. “I’m just a panda!”

Inumaki tugged at his collar, the tips of his ears hidden beneath white hair turning faintly red. He said nothing—just quickened his pace.

Yuta, dragged along by Panda, lowered his head even further.

The girls’ dorm wasn’t crowded. They hadn’t gone far before Maki stopped in front of a room on the first floor.

Moonlight slanted across the wooden corridor. A black, cat-shaped nameplate swayed gently in the night breeze, its metal hooks clinking softly against the door.

Written in pink marker were the words:

[The Room of the World’s Cutest Girl]

“…Is this what our new classmate is like?” Panda muttered, rubbing his chin. “The world’s cutest?”

Maki snorted. “She’s obviously an idiot.”

World’s cutest. World’s strongest. Only that idiot would say something like that.

“Salmon,” Inumaki said approvingly, giving a thumbs-up.

Maki raised a hand and knocked on the door with her knuckle. The dull thud echoed against the wood.

No response.

“…She’s not here?” Maki frowned and turned to Yuta. “Bean Sprout. Can you sense her?”

Even Gojo had lost track of her—but Yuta seemed able to find her.

Yuta nodded faintly, his voice barely audible. “…Inside.”

Suddenly, Panda slammed both paws against the door, deliberately dragging out his words. “New student—if you don’t open up soon, the yakitori rice will get cold! And cold yakitori is terrible!”

The door remained motionless.

Maki considered it for a few seconds, then raised her voice deliberately. “Guess she’s not here. Let’s just leave the food and go.”

The moment she finished speaking, Yuta’s phone rang.

Gojo Satoru flashed across the screen.

Yuta panicked and mashed the answer button. “…S-Sensei… good evening…”

Since Rika’s resurrection, he hadn’t spoken to elders much at all. Even his parents treated him with wary distance.

“Good evening, Sensei—not s-s-sensei,” Gojo teased lightly, then continued, “By the way, is Yue still at school? I can’t reach her.”

Before Yuta could answer, the wooden door creaked open.

A narrow crack revealed half a pale face, black hair falling forward. In the darkness, crimson pupils contracted sharply, locked onto the phone in Yuta’s hand.

Maki’s cursed tool was already three inches from its sheath.

“…That’s creepy,” Panda muttered.

Inumaki simply lifted the takeout bag with a smile and gave it a little shake. “Salmon.”

In the next instant, crimson tentacles flashed out, too fast to follow, yanking every food box from their arms.

The door slammed shut with a bang.

Yuta stared at his empty palm.

His phone—brand new, less than a week old—was gone.

Maki twitched, then patted his back. “…Bean Sprout. Maybe she’ll give it back later.”

Though, judging by that idiot’s personality, the odds were slim.

“That tentacle was fast!” Panda exclaimed. “Faster than Maki’s nagita!”

Inumaki, remembering the red eyes in the darkness, was suddenly reminded of a stray cat they’d once encountered on a mission—lurking, watching, ready to flee or strike.

***

Inside the room.

Yue curled into the corner of her bed, clutching the blue-eyed monster doll tightly to her chest.

The tentacles placed the phone in front of her. Its cold glow illuminated her pale face, even the fine downy hairs visible in the light.

The walls and ceiling were covered in winding crimson tendrils, thick slime dripping down and transforming the cozy room into something resembling a haunted house—yet strangely, it didn’t feel frightening. Instead, it looked like a kitten’s tantrum, everything overturned in frustration after being abandoned.

“Yue?” Gojo Satoru’s voice came through the phone, soft and amused. “Missing your teacher? Why so quiet?”

Yue pursed her lips, her fingers unconsciously picking at the doll’s glassy eyes.

The screen went black.

The voice disappeared.

Instantly, the tentacles writhing along the walls stirred violently.

A few seconds later, the phone lit up again—this time in video mode.

Yue hesitated, then swiped to answer.

Gojo’s face filled the screen, far too close to the camera. His cerulean eyes gleamed brightly, starlight caught in their depths. “Aren’t you going to talk to your teacher?”

Yue lifted her finger and poked the screen, pressing directly against his eye.

Gojo’s voice softened. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Be good and wait for me at school, okay?”

“…Okay.”

The camera suddenly shifted, catching a glimpse of the hotel chandelier as fabric rustled.

Gojo reclined against the sofa. “Did you eat dinner?”

Yue shook her head, then looked at the takeout boxes placed neatly on the table by the tentacles.

She hesitated—then ran over barefoot, clutching her doll and the phone.

Through the camera, Gojo spotted the food. A smile curved his lips. “Looks like they really like you.”

The sound of plastic tearing echoed in the quiet room.

The bag was stuffed full: beef and yakitori rice, tamagoyaki, teppanyaki, croquettes, miso soup—and brownies.

Yue picked up a fork and shoved a piece of tamagoyaki into her mouth.

Gojo watched, feeling oddly like he was tuning into a mukbang. Her cheeks puffed out as she ate, and for some reason, his fingers itched.

The phone’s sound quality was excellent. The soft swallow reached his ears clearly—and his stomach growled.

“…Weird,” Gojo muttered, already full from dessert earlier. He lazily typed a long string of dessert orders to Ijichi.

Ijichi replied moments later: “…Received.”

Yue tossed the doll aside, pressed the warm phone to her chest, and crawled into bed.

On the other end, Gojo ate dessert, the clink of fork against porcelain audible through the call.

Yue curled into a ball, staring at the screen.

Noticing her gaze, Gojo tapped the screen with a cream-smeared finger. “Is it pretty?”

“…Mm.”

Her fingertip pressed against the screen where his finger was.

Her lashes fluttered—then fell.

**

Moonlight poured through the window.

Yue suddenly stirred, crimson eyes snapping open.

The tentacles were gone. Only faint slime remained on the walls.

“…Sensei…” she whispered, reaching for her phone.

Dead.

She grabbed Yuta’s phone instead.

Also dead.

Missing Sensei.

Missing Sensei so much.

Yue grabbed the doll and ran barefoot to the refrigerator.

Cold mist spilled out as she opened it. She stared at the cake box inside for three seconds.

Crimson cursed energy bloomed from her palm.

The cake vanished.

Her red eyes gleamed in the dark—piercing, distant.

And then—

She disappeared.

Only the curtains swayed gently in the night breeze, moonlight spilling across the empty floor.

Chapter Text

Thunder rolled overhead as rain hammered against the stone slabs. The narrow alley reeked of damp mildew and the heavy, rusty tang of blood.

“Good girl… hiding so well.”

A man’s hoarse murmur drifted through the rain. Blood dripped steadily from the edge of the axe in his hand, dissolving into the puddles at his feet.

At the mouth of the alley, a flash of white appeared.

A girl stood there, clutching a grotesque doll. She lifted her head slowly. Crimson pupils reflected the man’s warped, feral grin.

He reached into his pocket and casually tossed a lump of blood-soaked, gelatinous flesh into a nearby trash bin.

“Ah—!” The civilian girl hiding inside the bin instinctively reached out—then froze when she saw what had been thrown in. She collapsed backward into the garbage, her sobbing breaking into choked gasps before her body went limp, filthy water soaking her clothes.

The man’s gaze tore away from the trash bin and locked onto Yue, his eyes bulging as a feral hunger surfaced in them.

He dragged his tongue along the bloodied axe blade, laughter scraping out of his throat with a metallic edge. “Such delicate skin… perfect for my doll.”

The route from the apartment to Jujutsu High was one Yue usually crossed without touching the ground at all—teleporting while clinging to her teacher or hitching a ride nestled against his chest.

She had never walked it herself.

Not because she couldn’t teleport.

But because her spatial anchors were inaccurate.

So she got lost.

Rain-lashed wind cut across her face. The man lunged forward with the axe—

Yue didn’t move.

From the shadows, countless crimson tentacles erupted, snapping out like living chains. In less than three seconds, they pierced through ears, mouth, and limbs.

The man didn’t even have time to scream.

His skin shriveled, drying and cracking like paper left in the sun, before his body collapsed into the rain with a hollow thud—nothing more than an empty husk.

The tentacles withdrew.

A faint flush colored Yue’s usually pallid face.

She didn’t spare the corpse a glance. Brushing rainwater from her hair, she turned and continued in the direction she thought was right.

***

Late at night, in a Tokyo apartment, the air conditioner hummed softly. The television bathed the living room in a cold blue glow.

“What? It’s not scary at all.” A curly-haired woman sat cross-legged on the couch, gnawing on fried chicken as she eyed the screen with disdain. “What kind of movie did you even pick?”

The man beside her cracked open a can of cola. Click. “It’s the top-selling horror movie this month.”

“Top-selling doesn’t mean good.” She rolled her eyes and flicked a chicken bone into the trash. “Watch—the ending’s going to be some mental illness nonsense.”

The worst horror movie endings were always dreams or insanity.

This one had both.

Suddenly—

“AAAAAH—!!!” The man shrieked.

The woman startled so badly her hand jerked, flinging half a piece of chicken into the air. It smacked against the curtain, leaving an oily stain.

“Are you trying to summon a ghost?!” she snapped, spinning around—

And locked eyes with crimson.

Her scream drowned out his.

The cola can rattled violently on the table.

Moonlight spilled through the parted curtains, illuminating the center of the living room.

Yue stood there.

Her black hair clung wetly to her cheeks. Water dripped from her white dress, pooling on the floor. The monster doll in her arms wore its usual grotesque grin.

“D-Don’t come closer!! Help!!” The man shoved the woman behind him, his hand shaking as he grabbed the fruit knife from the table.

Yue tilted her head, studying them.

Two people huddled together. Screaming. Shaking.

Like frightened chickens.

Water dripped steadily from her hem, spreading across the floor.

Another wrong teleport.

She raised her hand slowly.

“AAAAAH—DON’T KILL US—!!!”

Lightning flashed past the window.

In the blinding white glare, Yue’s figure flickered—then vanished, like a badly tuned television signal.

For hours afterward, screams echoed through Tokyo’s residential districts.

She lost count of how many wrong teleports she made.

Only when dawn began to pale the sky did Yue finally stop—standing in front of a familiar apartment building.

Inside the entryway, the ichimatsu-patterned doll tilted its head. Its glass eyes reflected her soaked skirt.

She stood there for a moment.

Then walked into the kitchen, pulled out the still-chilled cake box, and placed it carefully into the refrigerator.

She passed her own room without a glance and pushed open the master bedroom door.

The minimalist black, white, and gray décor felt cold and empty. Only the rumpled sheets hinted that someone had slept there recently.

Yue stepped forward—then stopped.

Her clothes were soaked through. Water dripped from her hair, trailing across the tile toward the wardrobe.

Barefoot on the cold floor, she opened the wardrobe and pressed her face into the hanging clothes—the only clean part of her body.

There was no warmth.

No familiar scent.

The shirts inside were all new, neatly folded, untouched.

Her fingers brushed the fabric.

She closed the door, disappointed.

She fetched a nightgown from her own room, then returned to the master bedroom and stepped into the bathroom.

Hot water filled the tub. Steam rose quickly.

As Yue reached for the shower gel, she froze.

It was the same scent as her teacher’s neck.

She lifted the bottle, inhaled deeply—

Then poured the entire thing into the bath.

Foam surged upward, the familiar scent enveloping her completely. Her breath softened.

She sank beneath the bubbles, clutching the ugly doll tightly until her fingers wrinkled from the water.

Only then did she emerge.

Afterward, she placed the doll beside the pillow and crawled into bed.

Her teacher’s scent lingered.

Yue buried her face into the pillow he usually slept on and closed her eyes.

It felt as if he were still beside her.

She loved him.

She really loved her teacher.

***

The next day, in the principal’s office, Yaga Masamichi had just finished reviewing several abnormal incident reports when his phone rang.

“Principal Yaga! Something’s happened in Tokyo!” The voice on the other end was urgent. “A notorious curse user was murdered last night—completely drained. Two other victims were rescued. And… multiple households reported a cursed spirit intrusion. Over a dozen people insist they encountered Sadako.”

Sadako.

One of Japan’s most infamous urban legends.

Fear was the breeding ground of cursed spirits. The deeper the image was rooted in the public’s mind, the stronger the curse it produced.

Yaga frowned, tapping his knuckles against the desk. “What about the victims? Any leads?”

“They’re severely traumatized, but unharmed. As for the curse… strangely, there are no physical injuries. No pattern, either. It’s as if the targets were chosen at random.”

“Track the residual cursed energy,” Yaga said gravely. “If it’s confirmed Special Grade, recall Gojo Satoru immediately.”

The caller agreed at once.

At Special Grade, there was only one sorcerer capable of handling it.

**

At Jujutsu High, sunlight streamed through the paper-paneled doors of the classroom, illuminating rows of empty desks.

The bell rang.

Panda lifted his head and pointed to the empty seat beside Yuta. “Isn’t the new student coming?”

“Who knows.” Maki snapped her book shut, tapping the cover. “I knocked on her door before I left. No answer.”

Yuta kept his head down, erasing the same spot on his notebook until the paper nearly tore.

Panda scratched his head. “Are we still bringing her lunch? Satoru told us to look after her.”

“Tuna!” Inumaki suddenly held up his phone. Five unread messages from Gojo were still on the screen: [Don’t forget to remind Yue to charge her phone.]

“Ah!” Panda slapped the desk. “Yuta’s phone is still with her!”

Yuta flinched, then bent lower, erasing even harder.

By noon, Yue still hadn’t appeared.

They packed another lunch and returned to the dorm.

The door at the end of the corridor remained shut.

Maki turned to Yuta. “Is she inside?”

“…No.”

Maki frowned. “She left campus?”

“She’s unstable,” Panda muttered. “If she’s out among civilians…”

“Split up,” Maki ordered. “Panda—inform Principal Yaga.”

In the principal’s office, Yaga had just picked up his pen when Panda burst in, nearly crashing into the desk.

“Yaga! Big trouble!” Panda slammed his paw down. “The new student’s missing! We searched the whole school—Yuta says she’s gone!”

Yaga froze. Missing?

He pinched the bridge of his nose, reaching for his phone—then paused. “…I’ll call Satoru first.”

Those reports from this morning suddenly made far more sense.

Chapter Text

Gojo Satoru remained seated behind his sandalwood desk long after ending the call with Yaga.

The overhead lamp cast a pale glow over his frost-white lashes, shadows flickering faintly beneath his eyes. His Six Eyes narrowed, the azure in his pupils thin and sharp—like ice spreading across water. Even the air in the office seemed to grow heavier.

He looked up at the assistant supervisor standing stiffly in the doorway, voice lazy but edged with cold. “You’re saying all of this—” he gestured vaguely at the towering pile of files on his desk, “—needs to be handled by me personally?”

He drew out the last word with deliberate emphasis.

Ijichi broke out in a cold sweat.

Clutching the folder in his arms, his fingers went white. Under Gojo’s piercing gaze, his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Y-Yes… it was a direct instruction from above.”

Gojo glanced back at the mountain of paperwork. His fingertips tapped lightly against the sandalwood surface, the sound sharp in the quiet office. “…Have those old fogies really gotten this muddled?”

Ijichi lowered his head further, caught helplessly between higher-ups and the vocational school. He didn’t dare say a word. The edges of the folder were already wrinkled with sweat.

***

At the same time, four first-year students were rushing toward Gojo Satoru’s residence, clutching the address Yaga had given them.

The moment they got out of the car, Panda bolted straight for the door, slapping his paws against it. “How did Satoru even know the new classmate went home?!”

“Is that really the point?” Zen’in Maki caught up and knocked sharply, irritation creeping into her voice. “How are we supposed to get in?”

They didn’t have Gojo’s key—and breaking down the door definitely wasn’t an option.

“Kelp!” Inumaki’s phone screen lit up mid-call.

**

Inside the dim bedroom, Yue lay curled on the bed, her breathing so faint it almost seemed to disappear.

Sensei.

Her lashes fluttered as she opened her eyes, crimson pupils clouded with lingering haze.

“S-Sensei.” Gripping the edge of the mattress, knuckles whitening, she forced herself upright and staggered toward the entrance.

But when the door opened, the figure waiting outside wasn’t the one she expected.

Maki startled slightly at the girl’s sudden appearance. Taking one look at her face, she immediately stepped forward and caught her. “Hey—what’s wrong?”

Yue’s complexion was ashen, her lips tinged with an unnatural bluish purple. At a glance, she looked like a corpse that had wandered out of a morgue.

“…Sensei…” Her gaze locked onto the phone in Inumaki’s hand.

“Yue-chan, good afternoon.” Gojo Satoru’s voice flowed from the speaker, warm and smiling—like melted toffee.

Panda instinctively touched Yue’s arm.

Ice-cold.

“Take her back—now! Find Shoko!”

Inumaki quickly shoved the phone into Yue’s hands. His eyes flicked over her flushed cheeks, and after a brief hesitation, he pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. “Tuna!”

Yuta stood nearby, staring at her fragile state, worry flashing unmistakably in his eyes.

On the other end of the call, Gojo heard the students’ voices. The smile vanished from his tone instantly—his breathing grew heavier.

Lifted onto Panda’s back, Yue clutched the phone tightly, fingers digging into its edges.

Gojo’s voice lowered. “Yue. Go back to school with Panda and the others. Let Shoko examine you.”

“…Liar.” Her face sank into Panda’s fur, voice muffled and trembling with grievance.

She had waited. For so long.

And he still hadn’t come back.

Silence stretched across the line.

Then Gojo spoke again, his voice crackling faintly through the static—unexpectedly gentle. “I have things to deal with here. Yue-chan… wait for me a few more days, okay?”

Yue pressed the phone to her cheek and didn’t answer.

**

Jujutsu High sat deep in a remote area, wrapped in barriers that ordinary taxis couldn’t pass through.

Fortunately, the assistant supervisor who had driven them earlier was still waiting downstairs.

The call never disconnected. Gojo stopped speaking, the faint rustle of papers turning audible through the receiver.

By the time the car pulled into the school grounds, Yue’s consciousness had grown hazy.

“…Miss… Sensei.” Her soft murmur traveled clearly across the line.

Gojo paused mid-motion. His throat moved once. “Sensei misses Yue-chan too.”

**

The infirmary door burst open as Panda charged in.

Ieiri Shoko had just set down her coffee; the cup clinked softly against the table.

She looked up, cigarette unlit between her fingers. “What’s with the panic?”

“The new student has a high fever!” Panda blurted.

Inumaki and Yuta moved together, carefully transferring the girl from Panda’s back onto the infirmary bed.

Her lips were still faintly purple.

“…Is it serious?” Yuta asked quietly.

Shoko already had a sense of it. She flicked the cigarette aside and pulled the stethoscope from around her neck. “You can all leave. I’ll examine her.”

“But—”

Maki kicked Panda without hesitation, and the two of them retreated.

The door clicked shut.

The moment it did, the tentacles coiled around Yue’s wrist twitched—alert, wary.

Shoko glanced at them calmly and slid the needle into Yue’s vein.

The tentacles stilled, obediently curling back, only their crimson tips peeking out.

Clear liquid dripped steadily from the IV, twilight deepening beyond the window.

After administering an antipyretic, Shoko listened again.

This time, her expression darkened.

The heart sounds were fragmented—faint, unstable. Even the second pulmonary sound was barely present.

The girl’s body was fragile to an alarming degree—like a spiderweb stretched thin in a storm.

“Shoko?” Panda cracked the door open, round head poking in. “Is she okay?”

Maki leaned in beside him. “That wasn’t a normal fever.”

Inumaki didn’t speak, only held up his phone: [Can we see her?]

Yuta stood silently, eyes fixed on the bed.

“She’s asleep. The fever’s down—for now,” Shoko said. “Be quiet.”

They entered carefully.

Yue’s face had lost its grayish hue, leaving only a pale, fragile stillness.

Even sorcerers—especially sorcerers—were usually resilient. This kind of weakness was unsettling.

As the setting sun painted the windows gold, Yue slowly opened her eyes.

The phone beside her lit up—lock screen showing a recent group photo of the four first-years.

The infirmary door creaked.

“New student, awake?” Panda peeked in cheerfully. “They have chocolate donuts today—want some?”

Yue blinked, head tilted slightly.

“Move.” Maki shoved Panda aside and stepped in with a lunchbox. “Time to eat.”

“Tuna!” Inumaki lifted the bag.

Yuta silently set up the makeshift table.

The scent of cocoa drifted through the room.

Yue reached out—

“Don’t.” Maki grabbed her wrist, pointing at the IV stand. “Needle.”

Unfazed, Yue let her hand fall.

Maki sighed, tucked the injected hand beneath the blanket, snapped the chopsticks apart, and fed her a donut.

Yue stared at it, scarlet pupils slowly reflecting the figures around her.

“Salmon.” Inumaki smiled, eyes curved.

Panda perched at the edge of the bed. “Hey, freshman-chan~ Coming to class tomorrow? We’ve got sorcery history—”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Yue ate quietly. “…Noisy.”

Panda froze. “…She talked?!”

“Salmon!” Inumaki gave a thumbs up despite being shaken violently.

Maki stared at Panda. “She just called you annoying.”

Yuta smiled faintly.

“Ah… youth.” Shoko leaned against the doorframe, cigarette lit, smoke curling upward.

For once, the infirmary felt warm.

Chapter Text

In the dim Japanese-style room, layers of folding screens concealed the figures within. Only candlelight flickered through the paper doors, casting distorted silhouettes that swayed like restless spirits.

Gojo Satoru lazily waved a crumpled report in his hand, the edges softened from being kneaded again and again. “It’s just something a kid scribbled for fun,” he said lightly. “Why are you all taking it this seriously?”

“Two members of Window have already been infected.” The hoarse voice from behind the screen carried undeniable weight. “Preventive measures must be taken immediately.”

Gojo’s lips curved faintly beneath his blindfold. “Oh?” His tone softened. “And what exactly are you suggesting?”

“You leave us no choice, Gojo Satoru!” another voice snapped sharply, tinged with menace. “That girl must be eliminated.”

Behind the screens, the elders passed judgment—solemn, detached—issuing a death sentence for a girl as though reading weather reports.

Gojo laughed.

The sound echoed through the tatami room, light and casual—and ice-cold.

“Have you all misunderstood something?” He pushed up his blindfold.

Six Eyes gleamed in the dimness.

“What nonsense are you spouting now?!” the voice barked.

“I came here today—” The report disintegrated between his fingers, fluttering to the floor in scraps. “—to stretch a little.”

“In the past, Rika Orimoto lost control once. And Yue’s cursed power surpasses even Okkotsu Yuta’s. If she loses control, half of Tokyo could vanish. Especially since Yue is also—”

Bang!

The screen at the front shattered as it was kicked aside. Wood splintered, paper tore, and before anyone could react—

Gojo Satoru had the speaker by the throat, slamming him against the wall.

“What,” Gojo asked softly, “did you just say?”

Chaos erupted behind the remaining screens.

“Gojo Satoru, have you lost your mind?!”

“We’re doing this for the stability of the jujutsu world!”

The answer was more flying debris.

The last screen collapsed.

With their hiding places destroyed, the so-called leaders were finally exposed—faces pale, bodies stiff, like hermit crabs stripped of their shells.

“Gojo Satoru!”

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

Gojo's knuckles cracked as he tightened his fist. His smile was gentle—almost kind—and absolutely lethal.

“It seems I’ve been too nice for too long,” he said calmly, “and that made you think I was on your side.”

Bones shattered.

Screams rang out.

***

At the same time, sunlight streamed through pale curtains in an apartment across the city, spilling softly across the floor.

Yue slipped out from beneath the covers, bare feet sinking into plush carpet.

In the two days Gojo Satoru had been gone, the once-sterile master bedroom had quietly transformed.

None of these things belonged there.

A white-and-pink nightgown had been forcibly stuffed into a wardrobe packed with neatly arranged shirts. Two dolls—one large, one small—sat primly on the bedside table.

The room no longer felt cold.

Yue pushed open the bathroom door. A blue-and-white electric toothbrush was awkwardly squeezed onto a minimalist black shelf, a cartoon-patterned mouthwash cup tilted beside it.

She stepped past the blue toothbrush without thinking, picked up the black frosted one, and squeezed out too much toothpaste—copying someone’s habit.

Ding.

Her phone lit up on the bedside table. Fully charged.

The lock screen showed a candid photo taken from a sneaky angle: a white-haired man sprawled on the sofa, fast asleep.

After washing up, Yue darted into the kitchen, stashing cake and nearly half the refrigerator’s worth of chocolate into her personal stash.

Only after everything was in place did she slide her oversized slippers into the shoe cabinet, change into her school shoes, grab her backpack—containing nothing but a doll—and activate the spell.

**

Unlike Tokyo’s tangled residential districts, Jujutsu High was impossible to miss.

The first class for first-year students that day was Japanese literature.

Inside the classroom, four heads drooped.

Three students were practically face-down on their desks. Only Okkotsu Yuta fought to stay awake, eyelids heavy as lead.

A shadow fell over his desk.

Startled, his hand twitched—and his eraser clicked to the floor.

Someone had appeared by the window seat.

A black-haired girl calmly unwrapped chocolate from her white uniform pocket and popped it into her mouth.

The bald literature teacher continued droning on, completely oblivious.

Yuta retrieved his eraser, hesitated, then whispered, “G-good morning?”

“Mmm.” Yue crushed a hazelnut chocolate between her teeth.

The others didn’t stir until the bell rang.

Zen’in Maki, eyes still closed, fumbled for her glasses. The cool metal snapped her awake.

“This teacher is worse than a lullaby,” she muttered.

“Worse than math,” Panda added—then froze.

Its ears twitched.

Its beady eyes widened.

“NEW STUDENT?!” Panda slammed both paws on the desk. “NEW STUDENT IS HERE!!!”

Yue stared blankly.

“…Kelp.” Inumaki Toge lifted his head, silver hair sticking out like a startled dandelion.

Maki turned abruptly, studying Yue. “Are you… okay?”

“Yeah.”

Panda leaned over Yue’s desk, paws planted eagerly. “New student, why are you here for class?”

“…Sensei,” Yue mumbled.

Panda gasped in sudden understanding. “She likes Satoru!”

The conclusion came instantly—and loudly.

She loved her teacher. 

The most. The most. The most.

Yue nodded solemnly, crimson eyes brightening.

Panda was about to continue gossiping when Maki clicked her tongue. “What’s so great about that idiot anyway? Always skipping class, never serious—blindfold moron—”

Vein-like tentacles erupted behind Yue.

The desk cracked spiderweb-wide. The windows rattled.

“Yes,” Yue said carefully, word by word. “Sensei.”

Not idiot. Not moron. Sensei.

Inumaki yanked down his collar warily.

Panda scrambled back. “It’s Sensei! Sensei! Calm down! Maki didn’t mean it!”

“Salmon!” Inumaki nodded furiously.

Maki pressed her lips together, hand hovering over her weapon bag.

“…Gojo-sensei is very good,” Yuta said softly.

The classroom door slammed open.

“Arguing without me?” Gojo Satoru strolled in, arms spread.

“Sensei!” Yue launched herself forward.

Gojo caught her effortlessly, the faint sweet scent wrapping around him. His hand settled naturally at her waist.

He grinned at the stunned class. “Your most popular, most handsome, most amazing Gojo-sensei is back—”

“Idio—”

BOOM.

Tentacles smashed the podium in half.

Gojo sighed, rubbing Yue’s head. “Be good. If you destroy the classroom, Principal Yaga will nag again.”

Panda clamped a paw over Maki’s mouth. “Don’t insult Satoru! The new kid’s scarier than Rika when she’s mad!”

“Salmon.”

Yuta shuffled obediently to the door. “Welcome back, Gojo-sensei.”

“How’s training?” Gojo ruffled his hair. “This afternoon, we’ll do paired practice.”

“Hold me—” A thin tentacle tugged at his wrist.

Panda counted. “But there are five of us!”

“Easy,” Gojo said cheerfully. “Yue and I. Inumaki and Panda. Maki and Yuta.”

Maki scowled. Yuta looked faintly betrayed.

Yue nuzzled into Gojo’s shoulder, sniffing. Cool and clean—with a hint of sweet cream.

“Stop that.” Gojo turned his head slightly.

He pinched the back of her neck gently. “Right—introductions.”

“You just remembered?!” Panda protested.

“This is Yue. Transfer student.” Gojo lifted her wrist proudly. “Please take good care of her~ She’s very well-behaved. Just a little clingy~”

Panda shuddered. “Stop being cute! You’re almost thirty!”

“Disgusting,” Maki added flatly.

Gojo ignored her and pinched Yue’s lips into a pout. “Maki, cursed-tool user. Put the tentacles away.”

They vanished instantly.

“…Nice to meet you,” Maki said stiffly.

“Mmm,” Yue replied.

“Inumaki Toge,” Gojo continued. “He speaks in onigiri.”

“Tuna!”

“Mmm.”

“And Panda—rare species. Cursed corpse.”

“I’m a panda.”

“Mmm.”

“And lastly—Yuta.” Gojo clapped. “That’s it. I’m taking Yue to see the principal.”

Chapter Text

The moment the principal’s office door flew open, a small figure rushed in like a sudden gust of wind.

The cursed corpse, its sandbag-sized fist swinging like a boxer’s, charged straight at Gojo Satoru’s face.

Gojo casually stepped aside. The cursed corpse slammed into the wall, rebounded like an overinflated toy, and continued flailing angrily, its punches barely reaching Gojo’s knee.

Meanwhile, Yue was bundled up in his arms like a dumpling, her shoulders shaking as she laughed quietly at the cursed corpse’s futile attempt to punch him.

“Yaga, why so angry?” Gojo said cheerfully, tilting his head as he dodged with lazy ease. “Did you prick your hand on the wool felt again?”

Behind the desk, Yaga Masamichi slowly set down the half-finished cursed corpse he had been stitching. His fingers cracked as he straightened.

His sharp gaze locked onto the grinning white-haired man at the door. “Explain.”

“Oh, nothing special.” Gojo tossed the clingy girl in his arms onto the sofa and plopped down beside her. He stretched out one long leg—

Crash.

The bone china teacups on the coffee table shattered instantly.

Yue, watching him with interest, copied the movement. Her short leg swung out.

Clink—crash.

The final teacup met its tragic end.

“Pfft—” Gojo chuckled, then deliberately hooked his leg over hers, pinning her legs down.

Yue immediately went limp, collapsing against him like a toppled doll.

Yaga’s temple throbbed. “You’d better be serious.” He strode over, eyes sweeping across the wreckage on the floor. His voice rose. “The higher-ups are in an uproar!”

“What’s the problem?” Gojo shrugged lazily, letting Yue rub against his arm as he leaned most of his weight onto her. “They’re still breathing, aren’t they?”

Truthfully, he had wanted to send those old men flying again.

But alas—

A teacher had to set a good example.

Yue tilted her head, gaze drifting to the corner of his mouth. She reached out, rubbing her fingertip against the faint white smear there.

Cream.

Her fingertip came away sticky.

“Oh no~” Gojo lowered his gaze, grin widening as he deliberately teased her. “Looks like Yue-chan noticed. That cake was amazing—too bad you weren’t there.”

Yue stared at the cream on her finger for two seconds.

Then she calmly lifted it to her mouth.

The soft sweetness melted across her tongue—vanilla, rich and unfamiliar. Her eyes narrowed in quiet satisfaction.

Beneath the blindfold, his eyes widened in rare, genuine surprise.

Gojo Satoru froze.

The room seemed to stall mid-breath. Even the wind outside the window fell silent.

The usually irrepressible white-haired sorcerer was, for once, completely blank.

“….”

Yaga Masamichi’s gaze sharpened as he scanned Gojo from his stiff shoulders to his slightly trembling fingers. Only when he confirmed Yue’s vacant, unguarded expression did he let out a faint breath of relief.

Thank goodness. This idiot might not have a teaching license—but at least he hadn’t crossed THAT line.

“Yue.” Gojo snapped back to himself and immediately caught her wrist before it could drift toward his mouth again. His expression turned unusually serious. “That kind of thing—”

He stopped.

For once, the strongest sorcerer of the era couldn’t find the right words.

Her pale fingers hovered an inch from his lips, halted by an invisible boundary.

“…You can’t do that to your teacher.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he scrambled for a proper reason. “It’s… unhygienic. And impolite.”

The light slowly dimmed in Yue’s crimson eyes.

Ripples spread across those ruby pupils as moisture gathered, trembling at the edges.

They were dazzling—like gemstones submerged in wine.

Gojo’s breath caught.

Before he could stop himself, he leaned forward.

Her fingertips brushed his lips again.

The tears vanished instantly, like a retreating tide.

Yue pressed her fingers there with quiet curiosity.

Soft. Warm. Damp.

Like freshly made chocolate pudding.

Her lips curved into faint dimples.

A sharper glimmer of cerulean leaked from beneath the blindfold.

Gojo reached up and gently cupped her cheek. The warmth spread through him like hot broth, coaxing an involuntary smile.

That was when Yaga Masamichi finally snapped.

He stepped behind Gojo, fist cocked.

Whoosh—

Tentacles erupted from behind Yue like living vines, wrapping tightly around Yaga’s arm mid-swing.

She stared at him, lashes still damp, gaze sharp and feral—like a cub guarding its territory.

Yaga Masamichi dangled several centimeters above the floor, his face darkening rapidly.

Gojo beamed. “Oh, Yaga, that’s a great pose.” He casually pulled out his phone. “I’ll take a picture. Souvenir.”

“Satoru!” Veins bulged on Yaga’s forehead. “Put. The phone. Down.”

“Hey, hey~” Gojo ignored him completely, snapping several photos from different angles.

Only after he was satisfied did he ruffle Yue’s hair. “Don’t be rude to Yaga. He’s the principal.”

Yue studied Yaga for a few seconds.

Then the tentacles dissolved into red mist.

Thump.

Justice—late but inevitable—arrived.

“OW—!” Gojo clutched his head dramatically. “That hurt! You hit me way too hard, Yaga!”

“Delete the photo,” Yaga said icily.

“No~” Gojo grinned. “It’s precious. I’m setting it as my lock screen.”

Yaga’s fists cracked ominously.

“Yue-chan~” Gojo suddenly murmured sweetly, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger. “Sensei wants to see the principal do a triple axel midair. Can you help?”

Yue nodded.

The tentacles stirred again.

“…Enough.” Yaga took a deep breath. “What’s going on with those reports?”

“Kids scribbling nonsense.” Gojo caught Yue before she could act, winking at her. The tentacles instantly withdrew.

“Two Window members are mentally unstable after reading them.” Yaga slammed the photocopies onto the table. “Explain.”

Gojo’s smile faded.

“A photocopy?” He tore it apart without hesitation and tossed it away. “I already told you—it’s harmless.”

Yaga’s gaze shifted to Yue. “And her?”

Gojo tilted his head. “She’s my most important student.”

“I’ll take responsibility.” He leaned back lazily, smug glint flickering in his eyes. “She listens to me.”

“…Are you sure?”

“Confirmed.”

Unnoticed, scraps of paper slid from beneath the sofa into Yue’s hand.

The runes flared.

Her pupils dulled. “Y’gha thul—”

Gojo pulled her sharply into his arms, fingers pressing over her lips. “There’s a quiz Friday. Has Yue-chan studied?”

The pressure vanished.

Sunlight returned.

“Watch your students,” Yaga warned.

“Yes, yes~” Gojo tickled Yue’s side.

She collapsed instantly, trembling with helpless laughter until tears welled up.

“Hug.”

He lifted her effortlessly onto his lap.

“…Be careful next time,” Yaga muttered, turning away.

“Did you hear that?” Gojo pinched her neck lightly.

“Yeah.”

“Hm?”

“I know.”

Satisfied, Gojo smiled—and gently patted her head.

Chapter Text

The warm breeze of late spring swept through the street, stirring the cherry blossom trees lining the road. Pink and white petals drifted down like gentle snow, clinging briefly to the windows of the black sedan before being torn away by the rushing wind, leaving behind a faint, lingering floral scent.

The car came to a smooth stop by the roadside.

The door opened—and Gojo Satoru’s white hair caught the sunlight first.

He stepped out in a long stride onto the petal-strewn pavement, glanced once toward the back seat, then walked ahead toward the elementary school standing quietly before them.

Yue followed closely at his side, a single pink petal clutched tightly between her fingers.

It was the one that had brushed against Gojo’s shoulder earlier.

She held it like a treasure, unwilling to let it go, its edges already crumpled from the pressure of her grip.

Suddenly, a cool hand covered hers from behind.

Gojo turned her around.

Their gazes met—cerulean and crimson.

The arms folded behind her back loosened, and his large, well-defined hand closed around her smaller one, gently prying it free.

Her ahoge bobbed happily, and Yue lifted the chocolate she was holding, offering it to his lips as if presenting something precious.

“An elementary school,” Gojo said, taking a large bite. The sweetness melted across his tongue as he added vaguely, addressing the students behind him, “An elementary school where children go missing.”

Yuta’s pupils contracted. “M-Missing…?”

“Well, it is a school,” Gojo continued casually. “Probably a naturally occurring curse.”

Yue stuffed the remaining tail of the chocolate into her mouth, chewing twice—then suddenly froze.

Her scarlet eyes widened, locking onto the rooftop of the school building.

Even the movement of her cheeks slowed.

“Oh?” Gojo noticed immediately. He reached out and ruffled her hair, fingers brushing over her upturned ahoge. “Found something already?”

Yuta hesitated. “So… the curse kidnapped the children?”

“Mm.” Gojo raised two fingers. “Two so far.”

Maki glanced at Yuta’s still-bewildered expression and explained evenly, “Places that become memories for many people tend to accumulate curses.”

Negative emotions gave birth to curses. Schools, hospitals—places repeatedly remembered—naturally became breeding grounds over time.

“Exorcise the curse and rescue the kids.” Gojo pointed lazily toward the school. His tone softened slightly. “If they’re dead, bring the bodies back.”

Yuta’s eyes widened. “D-Dead…?”

Gojo nodded, then casually patted Yue’s head. “Yue, you’ll handle the accounting.”

Yue, mid-peel with another chocolate, looked up blankly.

“…You don’t know how?” Gojo snatched the peeled chocolate from her hand, popped it into his mouth, and chewed with utter righteousness.

Maki rolled her eyes and adjusted the weapon case strapped to her back. “What did you expect?”

The new student hadn’t taken any theory classes. No one had taught her.

Expecting her to know barriers on her own was pure fantasy.

Gojo paused mid-chew. Then—

“Oh. Right. I didn’t teach you.”

Yuta sighed inwardly. Sure, Sensei was strong. But sometimes… he was just painfully unreliable.

After finishing the chocolate, Gojo reached out and pressed down Yue’s ahoge, which was sticking up like a question mark. It flattened—then bounced back immediately.

He grinned. “Alright. Let’s learn now.”

Yue nodded obediently and tucked the chocolate back into her pocket.

“Repeat after me,” Gojo said, raising one finger. A faint glow gathered at its tip. “Born of darkness, from darkness to darkness.”

Yue mimicked him, lifting her finger. “Born of darkness, from darkness to darkness.”

“Purify all filth and impurity.”

“Purify all filth and impurity.”

The moment her voice faded, a dark mass bloomed above the school—like ink dispersing in water. It spread outward, sinking downward until it engulfed the entire building.

Daylight vanished.

The sky dimmed abruptly, as if night had fallen in an instant.

“It’s dark!” Yuta exclaimed.

“Well done.” Gojo peeled another chocolate and slipped it neatly into Yue’s mouth, then turned back to Yuta. “This is a barrier. It blocks outside perception—and draws the curse out.”

Yue chewed, then tugged his sleeve. “Reward.”

“…Wasn’t that the reward?” Gojo poked her puffed cheek, pinching lightly. “I literally fed you chocolate.”

“No.” Yue wrapped her arms around his waist and climbed up like a koala, reaching for his neck.

Gojo lifted her effortlessly and walked forward. “This kind of barrier can be dispelled easily from the inside.”

Her arms tightened around him, clinging like vines. She rubbed her face against his neck, sticky and persistent, like a spoiled cat.

“We’re heading in.” Gojo waved lazily at Yuta and Maki. His tone was flippant—but carried weight. “Try not to die.”

Outside the barrier, Gojo walked back to the car and set Yue down.

The moment her feet touched the ground, she looked up unhappily. “I want a hug.”

He flicked her forehead lightly. “Nope. I’ve got a special mission today.”

“Mission?” Yue tilted her head, ahoge bouncing.

“Yue’s mission is—” Gojo poked the ahoge, watching it bend and spring back. He laughed. “Go buy crepes for your teacher~”

He emphasized solemnly, “Double cream. Strawberry jam.”

“Okay.” Yue reached out. “Hug.”

Gojo bent down slowly so she could reach his neck.

She hugged him immediately, rubbing her face against his flawless cheek with reckless enthusiasm.

He let her cling for a moment—until a faint blush appeared on her pale cheeks—then pinched the back of her neck and gently pulled her away.

“Rewards delivered,” he chuckled. “Shouldn’t you go, Yue-chan?”

Her fingers lingered on his collar. Her ahoge drooped.

Reluctantly, she turned and walked toward the crepe shop, glancing back every few steps.

The shop was only two blocks away.

When Yue arrived, a long line had already formed.

She stared at it, then slowly moved to the back.

Passersby were drawn to her exquisite face—then recoiled the moment they met her eerie red eyes.

Yue noticed none of it.

Even as the space around her emptied, she continued biting into her chocolate.

“Is it good?”

A deep, gentle voice sounded behind her, warm with amusement.

Yue didn’t turn around.

The black-haired man who had appeared silently behind her smiled anyway.

“I heard there’s a great chocolate cake shop here,” he said casually.

Her ahoge snapped upright.

Yue turned.

A black-haired man stood there, dressed in monk’s robes, his features gentle and refined.

Seeing her reaction, his smile softened further. He raised a hand. “Good afternoon.”

She nodded faintly.

“I passed by earlier,” he continued. “The desserts looked popular. Want to try together?”

“Yes.”

Her gaze was already fixed on the window.

The line moved quickly.

“Double cream. Double strawberry jam,” Yue told the clerk earnestly.

“And a chocolate crepe,” the man added. “Double chocolate.”

Chocolate spread slowly across the crepe.

Yue swallowed.

The man in the monk’s robe took the paper bag and flicked it into her hands with effortless ease.

The rustling presence lurking in the shadows went silent instantly.

“Eat this first,” he said gently. “Then we’ll have cake.”

She bit into it eagerly.

Inside the dessert shop, he pulled out a velvet chair. “Sit here. The view’s good.”

She sat without hesitation.

“Menu, please,” The man said softly.

The staff hesitated—then handed it over.

He slid it toward Yue. “Order whatever you want.”

She flipped to the cake page and jabbed a photo. “This. All of it. Black Forest. Ten servings.”

He laughed quietly. “That’s… familiar.”

The staff hesitated. “Ten… servings?”

Yue nodded vigorously.

He watched as plates piled up rapidly.

“By the rules,” he said mildly, “you should call me ‘senpai.’”

She ignored him.

“I know your teacher.”

Her spoon froze.

“Want more?” he smiled.

She tilted her head. “Old flame.”

“…?”

He froze for half a second—then laughed helplessly. “We were classmates.”

“Oh.” She stuffed cake into her mouth, cheeks puffed.

“I’m Geto Suguru,” he said. “Like Gojo Satoru, I studied at Tokyo Jujutsu High.”

She blinked. Licked her spoon. “I hate you.”

Silence.

“…May I ask why?” he leaned forward, curiosity glinting beneath his gentle smile.

The scent of sandalwood and blood lingered like spoiled chocolate.

Yue frowned.

Then swallowed the last bite.

Chapter Text

Sunlight slanted across the black sedan, scattering dappled reflections along its polished surface.

Gojo Satoru leaned casually against the car door, idly twirling his phone between long fingers, silver hair lifting in the breeze.

Suddenly, his gaze shifted toward the street corner.

“Sensei—” A sweet voice drifted over, light and soft, carrying the faint scent of cherry blossoms.

Gojo’s ear twitched. With a sharp snap, he slid his phone into his pocket, deliberately pretending not to hear as he turned to admire the blooming sakura nearby.

Only when a cool fingertip poked his lower back did he hiss, spinning around with exaggerated annoyance.

“Took you long enough,” he drawled. “You disappeared forever.”

He took the strawberry crepe from Yue’s hands, leaning down as he did—his high nose nearly brushing her hair.

Then he froze.

Gojo straightened, smile flattening. “Who did you run into, Yue?”

Without hesitation, Yue answered, “Small eyes.”

The blunt description sent Gojo into laughter. He ruffled her hair roughly before biting into the crepe, mumbling through the sweetness, “Avoid that guy next time, okay?”

Yue nodded and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face against his chest. She inhaled deeply.

Crisp air, faint sugar, and something unmistakably him—the scent of her teacher.

She squinted in quiet satisfaction, like a kitten finding warmth, nuzzling closer.

Behind them, the black barrier surrounding the elementary school rippled violently.

**

Inside, Rika’s twisted figure raged, viscous fluid splattering uselessly against the barrier walls.

“She’s really something,” Gojo remarked lightly as he glanced up. After a beat, he chuckled. “Terrifying.”

The delighted, almost thrilled edge to his voice made him sound disturbingly villainous.

The moment the word left his lips, crimson mist erupted behind Yue.

Something tore through space itself, surging forward and crashing straight into the barrier.

Rika, who had been tearing through a curse moments earlier, snapped toward the approaching presence, cursed energy flaring violently.

“I hate you!” she screamed. “You jerk!”

The two overwhelming forces collided, the air trembling under the impact. The half-dead curse caught between them didn’t even get a scream—reduced instantly to nothing more than collateral damage.

Yue pursed her lips, red eyes fixed on the barrier, clearly displeased.

Gojo’s smile faltered. He pinched her puffed cheek, smearing cream across her face. “Yue-chan is amazing too.”

Her pale cheeks ballooned like inflated buns. Yue glared up at him with catlike irritation. “I’m better.”

“Yes, yes,” Gojo coaxed, barely holding back laughter. “Much more amazing.”

Satisfied, Yue buried her face into his chest again, releasing a small, content hum.

Gojo ruffled her hair. “Good girl. Take it back.”

In an instant, the swirling mist within the schoolyard receded like a tide. Both figures dissolved into pinpricks of light.

The barrier shattered.

Yuta stumbled out first, Zen’in Maki slung over his back, a child clutched under each arm. He crashed into the wall with a muffled groan.

His knuckles were white with strain—until his eyes found the white-haired figure waiting at the school gate.

Only then did his body finally give out.

As his vision went dark, he heard Gojo’s voice, warm and smiling, brushing past his ear like a feather.

“Welcome back.”

“Yue,” Gojo said, pointing at the unconscious group. “Car.”

“Okay.” Yue responded immediately. The tentacles at her wrists lengthened—thin as thumbs, yet impossibly strong—binding the four together with ease.

Seeing them about to be unceremoniously loaded, Gojo flicked the cowlick on her head. “Be gentle.”

Yue blinked obediently.

The next second, the tentacles whooshed—flinging the bundled group onto the roof of the car with a dull thump.

Gojo’s muffled laughter carried on the breeze. Resigned, he carefully transferred everyone into the back seat one by one.

When he turned, Yue was already climbing toward the driver’s seat.

“Didn’t I tell you?” He grabbed her and hauled her back. “I can’t drive with you on me.”

He dragged her around the car and firmly seated her in the passenger seat.

“Hug,” Yue said quietly, eyes round and wronged.

Gojo forced his expression into sternness as he buckled her seatbelt with a click, pinning her restless body in place. “No.”

Her voice softened. “Sensei.”

A chocolate ball appeared between her lips.

Gojo pretended this was not surrender as he patted her head. “Behave, hmm?”

**

The hospital corridor glowed with sterile white light, sharp as knives. Disinfectant filled the air.

“Maki and the kids are fine,” Gojo said, leaning against the wall beside the boy slumped in a chair.

Yue clung to his side like a shadow, half a chocolate tucked into her mouth.

After a long pause, Yuta spoke softly. “That’s… good.”

Gojo chuckled. “Judging by your face, you’re still stuck in your head.”

Yuta stared at the ring on his finger, voice hoarse.

“I helped someone… didn’t I? And Rika.”

Was I really useless? Unwanted?

“Yes.” Gojo smiled. “You did great.”

From the corner of his eye, Yuta caught sight of a small figure pushing an IV stand. He froze.

“Sensei.” Yue reached up and gently pressed chocolate against Gojo’s lips.

Gojo took a bite, then flicked another chocolate toward Yuta. “What’s wrong?”

The impact snapped Yuta out of it. He caught the candy reflexively. “Nothing.”

He glanced warily at the girl beside Gojo, only relaxing once he confirmed she wasn’t about to hit him. “…I just remembered something.”

“Hm?” Gojo prompted.

Yuta lowered his gaze again, murmuring to the ring.

“Maybe it wasn’t Rika who cursed me. Maybe… I cursed her.”

Gojo pressed his lips together, glancing sideways.

Yue was quietly peeling chocolate, hair falling across her cheek. So still she might’ve blended into the air—if not for the faint twitch of her ahoge, flicking like an antenna catching a signal.

Without looking, she offered the peeled chocolate toward Gojo’s mouth.

This time, he didn’t steal it.

Instead, he lifted her effortlessly and pulled her into his arms, nuzzling her affectionately.

Yue stared at the intact chocolate in confusion.

“Eat,” she insisted, poking his cheek and offering it again.

Gojo pressed his fingers gently into the dimple of her cheek, breath carrying cocoa-sweet warmth.

“Personal opinion,” he said lightly. “There’s no curse more twisted than love.”

On the bench, Yuta lowered his head, staring at his trembling hand, the ring glinting coldly under the lights.

After sending the students back to Jujutsu High, Gojo returned home—with his human-shaped keychain still clinging to him.

The moment they entered, Yue began kicking restlessly.

Gojo ignored it, carrying her straight into the master bedroom like a doll.

The door opened to a riot of color—completely un-Gojo-like.

He looked down at the girl burying her face in his neck, playing dead. “What? Stealing my spoon wasn’t enough—now you want the bedroom too?”

No response.

Amused, he set her down and headed for the bathroom.

Three minutes later, he emerged in a loose white shirt, hair damp. He yanked back the blankets—only to find a suspicious bulge.

“Where did you put the shampoo?” he demanded.

She smelled marinated.

Yue blinked innocently.

Just as he reached for her cheek, tentacles wrapped around his waist.

The world tilted.

He landed flat on the bed, head sinking into soft pillows, overwhelmed by the cloying sweetness of her shower gel.

“Sleep,” Yue said, pressing herself—blanket and all—onto him.

Pinned, Gojo tilted his head. “How’d you do that?”

He hadn’t sensed a thing.

Yue poked his eye, displeased. “Sleep.”

“So bossy,” Gojo teased, azure eyes gleaming. “But Sensei’s curious.”

She considered this. Then sat up.

A tentacle emerged from nothingness. With careful control, she severed it midair—the center vanishing completely, leaving only the ends floating.

Gojo’s pupils contracted.

She used it to flick the slippers off the floor.

His Six Eyes lit up.

He grabbed the remaining section, fingertips brushing the ethereal cross-section, laughing like a cat with a new toy. “You hid part of it in another dimension, didn’t you? Just like Yue.”

Yue nodded. The tentacle dissolved into mist.

Yawning, she settled back onto him.

Cool hair brushed his neck.

“Sleep,” she muttered, dragging the blanket over his head.

“Little housekeeper,” Gojo yawned, eyelids growing heavy. Maybe her scent really did have sleeping properties.

The mission was done.

The girl needed watching.

Even the strongest was still human.

Breathing slowed.

And Gojo Satoru finally drifted into soft darkness.

Chapter Text

The infirmary was steeped in the bitter aroma of coffee.

Shoko Ieiri’s fingers paused. The white porcelain cup tapped lightly against the table with a crisp click as she frowned at the unserious white-haired man sitting across from her.

“Are you serious?” she asked.

“Of course.” Gojo Satoru slid his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, revealing his cerulean eyes. The usual flippancy was gone, replaced by an uncharacteristically solemn expression. “How long will it take, Shoko?”

“You really think that highly of me?” Shoko tugged irritably at the collar of her white coat and downed a mouthful of cold coffee. “That kind of surgery isn’t easy.”

She had never performed heart repair surgery before. In normal circumstances, this would require a highly specialized cardiologist—but the girl’s condition was anything but normal. Ordinary doctors wouldn’t even know where to start.

“You’ll manage,” Gojo said lightly, leaning back in his chair as he pulled out his phone and tapped the screen a few times.

“A month and a half,” Shoko replied flatly. “And even then, I can’t guarantee success.”

“Thanks for the hard work.” Gojo waved his phone, a familiar smile returning to his lips. “I’ll have Ijichi deliver some Gyokuro to your place later.”

Shoko nearly choked.

She set the cup down slowly and stared at him for a long moment before asking suspiciously, “Are you really Gojo Satoru? Or did someone swap you out?”

A faint shadow flickered beneath his long lashes. Gojo avoided the question, drumming his fingers against the table before suddenly asking, almost jokingly, “Hey, Shoko. If I died, would you cry?”

“You? Die?” Shoko froze for half a second, then scoffed. “If that ever happens, I’ll probably open a bottle of wine to celebrate. Justice at last.”

“Ouch~” Gojo clutched his chest dramatically, looking deeply wounded. The next second, he was already on his feet, waving lazily as he headed for the door. “I’m leaving. If I don’t show up, that little girl will cry again.”

**

Sunlight spilled generously across the training grounds, the sharp crack of wooden swords echoing rhythmically through the air.

Okkotsu Yuta’s grip on his bokken was steadier now, his movements noticeably more agile as he sparred with Zen’in Maki. Their figures crossed and separated in flashes of light and shadow.

Nearby, Yue was completely buried in Panda’s soft fur, her chin resting comfortably against its belly. Her pale cheeks looked even more delicate against the black-and-white fluff, the redness at the corners of her eyes softened by the contrast.

A sharp clack rang out as Maki’s staff knocked Yuta’s wooden sword clean from his hands.

“Amazing,” Panda exclaimed instinctively.

Beside him, Inumaki nodded in solemn agreement. “Salmon.”

“Everyone—” a familiar cheerful voice called from behind.

Gojo Satoru appeared on the steps, hands in his pockets. “How’s the training coming along?”

Yue peeked up from Panda’s arms, her crimson eyes flicking over him for less than a second before she huffed and buried her face even deeper. Only a tuft of fluffy hair remained visible—her ahoge drooping in clear protest.

Before Yuta could respond, Maki strode forward and jabbed her staff toward him, stopping short. “Back into position, Bean Sprout.”

Gojo hopped down the steps, crouched beside Panda, and poked Yue’s sulking head. “Still mad at your sensei?”

“Satoru, what did you do this time?” Panda glanced between them, then pointed accusingly at the girl in its arms. “Yue’s been angry all morning. She only ate ten chocolates, five cream puffs, and three sandwiches for breakfast.”

“Salmon,” Inumaki confirmed gravely.

Gojo froze.

The image of the doll he’d accidentally torn in half that morning flashed through his mind. He coughed and touched the tip of his nose.

“I’ll buy you a new one later,” he said coaxingly, tugging gently at Yue’s hair. “Look at me, okay? Sensei will get sad otherwise.”

Yue lifted her head, cheeks puffed out like an angry kitten.

Seizing the moment, Gojo scooped her out of Panda’s arms and into his own, rubbing his chin lightly against the top of her head. “How about cake?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and muttered sulkily, “Sensei disappeared.”

“…That sounds bad,” Gojo said dryly. “The doll disappeared. Sensei’s right here.”

That only made her look more aggrieved. “You broke it.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Gojo protested, though guilt pricked at him. He tapped her forehead lightly with his chin, accusingly. “And why were you hugging a doll when Sensei was right there?”

Yue buried her face into his neck, refusing to answer.

Gojo continued rambling, self-righteous as ever. “It was clearly Yue who ignored Sensei first…”

He should have been relieved. She no longer clung to him during missions, stayed obediently in the dorms, and got along with her classmates. Aside from being a little attached, her personality was becoming… normal.

And yet—

Yue suddenly went still.

Panda, who had been watching Gojo’s nonstop monologue, widened its eyes and pointed. “Satoru, you—”

Yue lifted her head, scarlet eyes locking onto Gojo.

Panda swallowed the rest of its sentence.

Yue kicked her legs restlessly, but the arms around her waist tightened.

“Don’t move,” Gojo warned calmly. “Or your chocolate rations get cut in half.”

She froze instantly.

Satisfied, Gojo glanced at Panda and raised a brow. “What were you about to say?”

“N-nothing!” Panda shook its head frantically, then pointed toward the training ground. “Yuta’s improved a lot!”

Sunlight filtered through the leaves as Yuta’s bokken arced cleanly, colliding with Maki’s staff in a sharp, ringing strike.

“Salmon,” Inumaki observed.

“His movements are smoother,” Panda commented, rubbing its cheek unconsciously. “And he’s more confident.”

“His mindset’s improved too,” Gojo added casually—while simultaneously catching Yue’s hand as she tried to untie his blindfold.

Caught, Yue twitched, then grabbed his collar instead, following his gaze toward the training field.

“Tuna,” Inumaki said.

“Salmon,” Yue replied without hesitation.

Gojo pinched her cheek. “You’re quiet already—why are you copying onigiri speech?”

“Fish Flakes,” she protested vaguely.

“Don’t copy him,” Gojo snapped, increasing the pressure just enough to leave faint marks. “Do it again and tonight’s dinner is green peppers only. No chocolate.”

Yue struggled weakly. “Sensei’s mean.”

Instead of laughing, Gojo rubbed her head hard. “Tiramisu. Extra large.”

Before he could finish, Yue tilted her head up and rubbed her nose against his jaw obediently, like a cat begging for treats.

“Toge!” Panda shook Inumaki urgently. “Did you see that? I swear there were pink bubbles floating around!”

“Sal… mon,” Inumaki mumbled, dizzy.

“…Never mind,” Panda sighed. “You wouldn’t get it.”

He turned back to the field. “Maki looks happy too.”

“Salmon.”

“Not many people spar with her using weapons,” Panda said—then suddenly froze. Its entire body trembled before he shot upright. “Yuta! Come here!”

Yue turned to look, curiosity lighting her eyes.

Yuta hesitated, then walked over. “What is it, Panda?”

“Which side are you on?” Panda covered half his face dramatically, sneaking a glance at Maki. “Big or small?”

Yuta froze. His face turned red instantly—ears included.

Yue tilted her head, tugging at Gojo’s blindfold. “Big or small?”

Gojo: “?”

“What’s that?” Yue pointed at Panda and Yuta. “Like?”

Without blinking, Gojo pressed her hand down. “They’re discussing cake size.”

“Cake?” Yue blinked, glancing at Panda’s exaggerated heart gestures.

“Alright, enough.” Gojo decisively changed the subject, stepping down. “You two—continue training.”

Inumaki and Yuta approached.

“Toge, you’ve been specifically requested,” Gojo said, patting his shoulder. “Perfect curse for you. Finish it quickly.”

“Salmon.”

“Requested?” Yuta echoed.

Panda popped up instantly. “Toge’s the only Grade 2 in first year. He can operate solo.”

“Wow,” Yuta said sincerely.

Maki rolled her eyes behind them. You’re Special Grade, you know.

“Yuta,” Gojo said, restraining Yue as she tried to jump down. “Go assist him.”

“I wanna go,” Yue protested, bumping her head against his shoulder.

“Me? Assist?” Yuta asked incredulously.

“Think of it as an internship,” Gojo said calmly, pressing Yue’s head down. “There are as many exorcism methods as there are sorcerers. Toge’s technique is worth studying.”

“Technique?” Yuta’s pupils trembled.

“I wanna go,” Yue insisted, tugging at Gojo’s blindfold.

Ignoring her, Gojo continued, “Cursed Speech manifests through language. Seeing it firsthand is faster than explaining.”

As their classmates disappeared into the distance, Yue’s ahoge stood straight up in frustration. She struggled slightly—only to be met with a mischievous tug from Gojo Satoru.

Chapter Text

The black sedan traced a smooth arc along the winding mountain road. Tires whispered against the asphalt, the sound blending with the wind that slipped in through the narrow gaps of the windows.

Ijichi glanced at the back seat through the rearview mirror, his grip on the steering wheel tightening without him realizing it.

He was used to Gojo Satoru’s unpredictability.

Still, the scene unfolding behind him made him want to sigh.

In the back seat, Gojo Satoru pressed a hand against the back of Yue’s neck, firmly pinning her in place. His tone was openly displeased. “So unwilling to go on a mission with your teacher?”

Yue struggled weakly, her voice muffled. “I don’t like it.”

“Even the most handsome Gojo-sensei gets rejected?” Gojo wailed dramatically, all dignity gone. His fingers poked at her cheek without mercy. “Sensei’s heart is breaking~ If you’re this heartless, I’ll never buy you cake again!”

Yue kicked her legs uselessly, like a turtle trapped in its shell, completely helpless under the devil’s grip. “That’s mean!” 

Gojo leaned in even closer, deliberately invading her space. “So cruel! My heart is shattered—into chocolate chips!”

She stopped struggling.

Tilting her head up, Yue stared at his exaggerated pout for a long moment before speaking softly, “I like you, Sensei.”

Gojo met her gaze.

Those crimson eyes reflected him clearly, without hesitation. His lips twitched, but he forced them down, raising an eyebrow instead. “I’m not that easy to coax.”

“I like you the most, Sensei.” She leaned forward, rubbing her forehead gently against his arm.

“Sensei likes you the most too~!” Victory secured, Gojo finally released her—though not without adding smugly, “You have to remember what you said. No going back on it.”

“Okay.” Instead of returning to her seat, Yue immediately climbed into his arms, curling against his chest and burying her face there.

“I like you,” she murmured, her fingers poking lightly at his chest, right over the steady pulse beneath.

The corner of her lips lifted.

***

The car came to a stop at the entrance of the amusement park.

The Ferris wheel turned lazily in the sunlight, cheerful music drifting through the air. Because of the sudden curse incident, many tourists were still stranded inside, while assistant supervisors worked to maintain order around the perimeter.

“I’m going to buy limited-edition rainbow ice cream,” Gojo said casually as soon as they passed through the gates. “Good luck, Yue-chan.”

With that, he waved and vanished without the slightest guilt.

Yue nodded and headed toward the source of the disturbance.

The roller coaster.

From a distance, the steel tracks twisted like a maddened python. Passengers clung to the restraints, faces pale, screams caught halfway in their throats.

Beyond the sight of ordinary people, a slime-covered cursed spirit clung gleefully to the train, its claws scraping against the metal like a child shaking a toy.

By the time Yue arrived, half the coaster was already hanging off the track.

She climbed onto a nearby maintenance frame with practiced ease. Crimson light flickered at her fingertips as her eyes narrowed.

Just as the curse prepared to fling the carriage away, a blade of red cursed energy tore through the air—clean, precise.

The curse split apart instantly, dissolving into nothing.

The coaster groaned under the sudden shift, plunging amid renewed screams—until an invisible force caught it midair.

Supervisors rushed forward at once, releasing safety locks and pulling passengers to safety.

“Here.”

Yue turned.

Gojo Satoru leaned lazily against a notice board, holding two ice creams—one rainbow-colored, one plain chocolate.

His gaze lingered on her wrist.

Pale. Empty.

Normally, she would have used her tentacles for something like this. Lately, she rarely did.

Yue took a large bite of ice cream, cream smearing her lips. “Soufflé.”

Gojo stepped closer, lowering his sunglasses just enough for his eyes to show. “Yue isn’t hiding anything from Sensei, right?”

She looked up at him, calm and clear. “No.”

“…Is that so?” He ruffled her hair but didn’t push further. “Come on. Let’s eat soufflé before the line gets longer.”

**

The carousel’s music filled the air.

Gojo practically shoved Yue into the crowd of children.

She bit into her dessert, chocolate cream melting sweetly on her tongue. Her eyes squinted in satisfaction, her cowlick bobbing happily.

Gojo raised his phone. “Yue.”

She turned at the sound, face still smeared with cream.

Click.

Gojo laughed softly as he looked at the screen.

Finally—something wallpaper-worthy among his cursed collection of emojis.

When the ride stopped, Yue jumped off and ran toward him, faster than a group of lost toddlers.

Gojo caught her easily and spun her once. “Did you have fun?”

“…Not fun.”

He tugged her ahoge, amused. “Then what do you want to play?”

Her gaze drifted toward the loudest screams in the park. “The drop tower.”

He followed her line of sight—then immediately dragged her in the opposite direction.

The pastel teacup ride.

“Childish,” Yue complained flatly.

“It’s fun,” Gojo declared.

“No.” She sulked into his arms, chewing on a chocolate bar.

Five chocolates later, the ride stopped.

Yue refused to get down, clinging to him like a koala.

“Next—bumper cars~!”

Before she could protest, he was already moving.

**

“Waaah—!”

Yue looked up just in time to see Gojo slam a bumper car into a chubby boy’s vehicle, sending it spinning. The boy teared up but couldn’t escape.

Gojo winked smugly. “Pretty good, right?”

Yue glanced at the crying boy… then nodded solemnly.

Later, she pointed again. “That one.”

“The ball pit?” Gojo nodded. “I was thinking the same~”

“…Liar.”

Thrown into the pit, Yue lay flat and gave up completely.

Gojo joined the chaos, laughing with the children.

Taking advantage of his distraction, Yue quietly slipped away to a bench.

She watched him from afar—sunglasses crooked, surrounded by kids, like a giant white cat invading a playground.

Her lips curved faintly.

“It’s Uncle Bear!”

She turned.

Panda mascots handed out balloons nearby.

“Blue,” Yue said.

The staff handed it to her immediately.

She was hugged from behind.

“You ran away,” Gojo complained softly.

She tied the balloon to his wrist, patted his hair, and mimicked him, “Be good, okay?”

Gojo laughed, eyes crinkling. “So disrespectful.”

**

The exorcism took three minutes.

The rest of the day vanished.

As dusk fell, Yue stirred.

Tentacles flickered—only to be pinched away instantly.

“What do you want to eat tonight?” Gojo asked cheerfully.

“I want to go back to the dorm.”

“No.” His tone shifted. “You have a report to write.”

Late at night, the apartment was silent.

Gojo opened his eyes.

Yue’s lips had turned bluish-purple. Her chest heaved violently. “No…Sensei…”

Blood mist churned.

He acted instantly. “Good girl.”

Water. Pill. Pressure.

Then—

Silence.

The mist surged.

He reached for her nose.

No warmth.

“Yue…?”

The world went blank.

Chapter Text

“Cough—”

A suppressed cough tore through the dim bedroom.

The scarlet tentacles coiled around the chandelier, walls, and wardrobe froze mid-movement.

Within the churning blood mist, half a human face slowly turned. Its neck—woven from blood vessels—stretched unnaturally, boneless, stopping barely two centimeters from Yue’s face.

Gojo Satoru’s fingertips hovered beneath her nose.

Warm breath brushed against his knuckles.

He inhaled sharply.

Red reflected faintly in his cerulean eyes. The deeper the crimson, the more his gaze resembled a still pool hidden beneath heavy fog.

Yue’s tear-damp lashes trembled. Her consciousness hadn’t fully returned—only fragments drifting through the haze. In the chaos of blood mist, she caught a familiar dark silhouette.

She reached out blindly.

Her fingers caught a tentacle.

Cold.

The instant she touched it, every tentacle in the room erupted.

Like enraged vines, they lashed violently against the barrier of Limitless. Dull impacts echoed as plaster cracked and dust drifted down, settling across the floor.

Gojo Satoru watched for a heartbeat.

The mass of entwined tentacles radiated a fragile desperation.

Without hesitation, he withdrew Limitless.

The mutilated head immediately pressed against Yue’s cheek. Vein-like tentacles curled around her gently now, all ferocity gone.

Her small body was drawn inward—like a fetus returning to the womb—wrapped layer after layer within the twisted shell of tentacles, crude yet instinctive, as if something was desperately building shelter for her.

Gojo’s hands clenched at his sides.

White knuckles.

Then loosened.

Then clenched again.

***

Sunlight flooded the first-year classroom, bright but powerless against the exhaustion etched into Ijichi’s face.

He adjusted his glasses, the glow of his tablet reflecting dark circles beneath his eyes. His voice was hoarse. “‘Window’ has reported a cursed spirit at the Tokyo Zoo. The area has been sealed, evacuation routes are ready. We’re waiting for you to deploy.”

Zeni’n Maki lifted her head from her arms, brows knitting. “A zoo? What kind of curse?”

Panda yawned widely, stretching across the desk.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ijichi noticed Yue standing by the window, calmly chewing bread.

His throat bobbed.

“…The grade is undetermined,” he said carefully. “To be safe, all first-year students are requested to mobilize.”

“All of us?” Panda scratched its head. “Isn’t that overkill?”

They had two Special Grades, after all.

Inumaki Toge leaned back lazily. “Salmon.”

Okkotsu Yuta set down his pen, glancing toward Yue. “Where’s Gojo-sensei?”

Lately, wherever Yue was, Gojo usually wasn’t far behind.

“Gojo-san was dispatched to handle an urgent mission in a nearby city,” Ijichi explained. “This is… a precaution.”

“Which zoo?” Maki slung her weapon case over her shoulder and stood.

“Choshi,” Ijichi replied, hurrying after her.

Panda’s ears drooped. “Not Ueno… I wanted to see a panda.”

Yuta muttered, “Can’t you just look in a mirror?”

Inumaki nodded. “Salmon, salmon.”

“Don’t pull my tail, Yue!” Panda yelped as its fluffy tail was suddenly tugged from behind.

Yue withdrew her hand slowly, disappointed.

She stared at the tail for two seconds.

Then looked up. “…Cute.”

Panda froze.

A suspicious blush crept across its furry face.

In the next instant, Yue struck—pinching the round, fluffy tail with surgical precision.

This behavior…

It was starting to resemble a certain idiotic teacher.

“Why are you blushing?” Maki elbowed Panda. “That’s creepy.”

“That’s cruel,” Panda huffed, rubbing his side. “Prestige is important!”

“Prestige?” Yuta echoed.

“Exactly!” Panda raised a paw solemnly. “Seeing a panda outside Ueno is like spotting a limited-edition Hermès bag in a regular mall.”

“Moron.” Maki paused by the car door, then glanced back. “So what’s a zoo to you, anyway?”

Panda climbed into the back seat, thinking. “…A relative’s house, I guess.”

Yuta looked at Yue. “Want the passenger seat?”

She shook her head and extended her hand to Ijichi.

He blinked, then quickly pulled a paper bag from the front. “Gojo-san asked me to buy bear-shaped chocolates.”

Yue accepted it, eyes narrowing contentedly.

“And… he said not to forget the penguin bun.”

“Penguin bun?” Her cowlick perked up.

Panda leaned forward eagerly. “It’s a cream bread shaped like a penguin! Only 150 a day—”

“You buy it,” Yue said calmly, already climbing into the back.

Ijichi adjusted his glasses, helpless. No wonder they were teacher and student.

Maki glanced at Yue peeling chocolate then turn to Panda. “Your family distance feels… strange.”

Panda clutched its chest dramatically. “Maki, that’s heartless!”

White fur drifted onto Inumaki’s collar.

Yue immediately scooted away to protect her limited-edition chocolate.

**

Ritsudo Zoo was already cordoned off.

“The cursed aura is near the predator enclosure,” Ijichi instructed. “Report immediately if anything changes.”

Maki led the way.

What should have been a major mission quickly dissolved into a cleanup of minor curses.

“This is it?” Panda complained. “Not even a warm-up.”

Even Yuta felt it was anticlimactic.

“Fish Flakes,” Inumaki said, sipping water.

Yue sat on a bench, surrounded by snacks and chocolates.

Panda noticed her gold limited-edition cards glinting.

“I’ll trade you—”

She shoved the cards at him. “Take them.”

Panda rolled around happily.

Maki kicked him. “Move. If civilians see you here, you’re done.”

Panda: “Then I get sent to the zoo, right?”

Maki: “More like a lab.”

“…Slice?” Yuta added.

Panda: “Yuta! You’ve changed!”

A bell rang.

Inumaki stiffened. “Tuna?”

Yuta’s hand slid to his sword.

Then the announcement played.

“…Normal operations have resumed.”

Maki grimaced. “This is bad.”

Panda sighed. “I’ll be swarmed.”

“You?” Maki scoffed. “Cute?”

Panda: “Hey!”

“Sensei is cute,” Yue said calmly.

Panda: “…?”

Tourists poured in.

Yuta raised his hand nervously. “Uh… there are a lot of people coming.”

Chapter Text

As the final announcement faded, the once-quiet zoo seemed to come alive.

Visitors poured in like a rising tide—footsteps overlapping, laughter spilling everywhere, children’s excited shouts bouncing off the air until even the breeze felt restless.

From the entrance came clear, cheerful voices, light as scattered notes in a song:

“Hurry, hurry! I want to see the bunnies!”

“I wanna see the lions! Do lions roar?”

“Mommy, I want cotton candy!”

Panda touched its furry ears, tilting its head in honest confusion. “Lions? Aren’t those… dangerous?”

That single remark was like tossing a pebble into still water.

All at once, the children gathered around the notice board turned their heads in perfect unison. Their eyes lit up like tiny lanterns as they stared at Panda’s round, unmistakable silhouette.

Then—

“It’s a panda!”

“There’s a real panda!”

“So cute!!”

The children shrieked with delight and came charging over, short legs pattering wildly, balloon strings fluttering behind them like colorful flags.

Zenin Maki’s expression changed instantly.

She took a sharp step back, muttering through clenched teeth, “Oh no… the little devils are coming… Panda, you’re seriously going to get sent to a research lab.”

Panda’s eyes widened. “Am I… a bad panda?”

Yuta swallowed hard. “Maybe you should run first, Panda.”

Maki shoved Panda urgently, lowering her voice. “Idiot! Don’t say that! You’re pretending to be a panda—act like an animal if you’re going to be seen!”

“B-bear… panda,” Panda stammered, panic rising.

Inumaki Toge paused, then said calmly, “Tuna Mayo.”

Yue tilted her head and quietly stuffed the snacks she was holding behind her back.

Maki nearly laughed from sheer disbelief before snapping, “What kind of self-introduction is that?! You octopus!”

Panda panicked too, shouting back, “I’m not an octopus! I’m a panda! What does a panda even say?! I don’t know!!”

“Woof—”

The sudden bark froze everyone.

They all turned.

Yue blinked under their stares, reached out, grabbed a handful of Panda’s fur—and barked again. “Woof woof—”

“…Isn’t that a dog?” Panda pointed at her, utterly baffled. “Do pandas bark like that?”

Maki pressed her fingers to her temple. “Do pandas bark like dogs? I thought they made some kind of humming sound…”

Inumaki shook his head. “Fish Flakes.”

Yuta hesitated, then said carefully, “I… heard that pandas bark when they’re angry.”

Panda’s eyes lit up. It inhaled deeply and roared at the top of its lungs, “WOOF WOOF WOOF—!”

“AHHH!! THE PANDA IS ANGRY!!”

The children screamed and scattered, terror replacing excitement.

Unfortunately, the volume also drew more attention.

“Hey! There’s a panda over here!”

“Is that real?!”

Maki’s forehead vein twitched violently. She stomped the ground and shoved Panda. “You idiot! You just made it worse! Yue, Yuta—take him and hide! Toge and I will deal with this!”

“Hide where?!” Panda staggered and grabbed Yue’s arm.

“Anywhere! Just hide!!” Maki barked.

“Mm!” Yue nodded, immediately dragging Panda toward a nearby exhibition hall. Yuta followed close behind, and the three of them vanished into the crowd.

***

On the other side of the zoo, Gojo Satoru arrived, mission complete, hands in his pockets.

Seeing the unusually lively crowd, he paused—then smiled as realization dawned.

Not long after, he spotted a black-haired girl leading several children away.

He lifted a hand lazily. “Good afternoon, Maki-chan~”

Maki had just finished sending the kids off when she turned, irritation flashing. “Where’s Ijichi?”

Gojo shrugged. “No idea.” His gaze flicked toward the noise. “So—how’s Panda?”

The children nearby lit up immediately. “Is there really a panda?!”

Inumaki answered smoothly, “Mustard Leaf.”

A boy in a red Superman jacket scoffed. “A panda? No way. Is it a doll?”

“Tuna.” Inumaki pointed toward a mascot handing out balloons.

Gojo strolled past them casually. “Where’s Yue?”

Maki answered flatly, “She left with Panda.”

Right on cue, a shout erupted from deeper inside the zoo: “Hey! There's a panda in the gorilla enclosure! And people are fighting!”

“….”

Maki’s face darkened instantly. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her weapon case. “I’ve got a really bad feeling.”

Gojo, on the other hand, looked delighted. “Oh? Let’s go see what my adorable students are up to.”

Maki and Inumaki followed, bracing themselves.

***

As soon as they reached the gorilla enclosure, chaos greeted them through the glass.

Two massive gorillas were baring their teeth at Yue and Panda, snack wrappers littering the ground.

Yue had one gorilla dangling in her grip like a toy, her other hand twisted mercilessly around another’s ear. Her red eyes blazed with fury—raw, violent irritation radiating off her at the unforgivable crime of having her snacks stolen.

Panda wasn’t doing any better. His round body pinned one gorilla down while his claws tugged the other’s ear.

Nearby, Yuta was desperately holding another gorilla’s head down, face full of helpless regret—he’d tried to stop the fight and somehow ended up in it.

Outside the glass, zoo staff were losing their minds.

“Call the director!”

“How did people get in there?!”

“And why is there a panda?!”

“Pfft—” Gojo rushed up to the glass, phone already out, snapping photos nonstop, his grin stretching ear to ear.

Maki rubbed her forehead. “Is she an idiot?”

A sorcerer fighting gorillas—this was beyond absurd.

Inumaki tugged at his collar. “Salmon.”

Eventually, the gorillas collapsed, sprawled on the ground and groaning, too exhausted to move.

Yue straddled one of them, staring mournfully at the crushed chocolate on the floor, face scrunched in heartbreak.

Panda plopped onto the other gorilla’s back, panting. “Yue, next time you fight, don’t pull ears or tails. It hurts just watching.”

“Your tail is too short,” Yue replied calmly. “I can’t reach it.”

Panda bristled. “My tail isn’t short! All panda tails are like this! They’re fluffy!” It even touched its own earnestly.

Yue raised a hand, comparing the panda’s tail to the gorilla’s. “Short. Round. Fat.”

“I’M NOT FAT! I’M JUST FLUFFY!” Panda grabbed Yuta’s arm. “Yuta, am I fat?!”

Yuta didn’t answer.

Panda turned—and froze.

Yuta was staring out the glass, face pale. “Sensei… Gojo-sensei and the others—they’re outside.”

Panda followed his gaze.

The crowd had gathered, phones flashing like stars. Front and center stood Gojo Satoru, smiling brightly as he took photos.

“Oh no…” Panda wailed. “I’m going to the lab for sure!”

Yue finally looked up. Her gaze swept the crowd—and locked onto Gojo.

She stood instantly and charged forward.

Bang.

The glass stopped her. She raised her hand, power gathering—

“No.” Gojo lifted a finger, wagging it through the glass.

Yue blinked, let the energy dissipate, then pressed her palm flat against the barrier, staring at him.

A boy nearby gasped. “She’s beautiful… Is she an actress?”

Gojo tapped the glass where Yue’s breath fogged it and chuckled. “Ijichi went in. He will handle this.”

Right on cue, Ijichi burst in, sweating and clutching a camera. “E-everyone! Please remain calm! This was a collaborative filming project between the zoo and a TV station! What you just saw was part of the show! Filming has concluded—please disperse!”

“Oh… just a TV show?” someone sighed, disappointed. “I thought the panda was real.”

Chapter Text

Ijichi lowered the camera he’d been pretending to film, shifting awkwardly under the lingering stares of nearby visitors. “Sorry about that. There was a communication error earlier, so the zoo has now resumed normal operations. I’ll take care of the aftermath.”

Earlier, for reasons no one could quite explain, the park’s signal had gone down—cutting off coordination and directly leading to the panda incident.

Gojo Satoru casually brushed a few blades of grass out of the girl’s hair, then gave her head a light pat. “So,” he asked lazily, “what happened?”

Two top-tier sorcerers fighting gorillas in a zoo. Honestly impressive.

Completely unbothered by the gravity of what had just occurred, Yue looked up at him and lifted both arms. “Hug.”

Panicking slightly, Panda hurried to intervene before the blame landed too hard. “Um—! The gorilla grabbed Yue’s snacks first!”

Yuta nodded immediately, voice soft and apologetic. “It’s my fault. I didn’t hold them properly. They got snatched and fell.”

When Gojo didn’t move, Yue stopped fussing altogether and simply climbed up him on all fours. Her uniform collar slipped askew as she did, revealing the fabric beneath.

Gojo sighed, defeated, and gently pulled her into his arms.

“I like you, sensei,” Yue murmured, content as a cat. She buried her face against his neck and rubbed slightly, her breath still carrying the faint sweetness of snacks.

Maki rubbed her temples, replaying the chaos in her head. “This is more exhausting than fighting cursed spirits.”

The exorcism itself had taken under ten minutes. 

Cleaning up the panda disaster had taken over an hour.

And after she and Inumaki had spent all that effort distracting the kids, these idiots had gone and caused something even bigger.

She’d told them to hide.

She had not told them to hide inside the gorilla enclosure.

“Salmon… salmon,” Inumaki agreed solemnly. Even cursed spirits weren’t this tiring.

Panda’s ears twitched. It suddenly leaned closer to Yue, eyes wide with curiosity. “So… how did you know pandas can bark? Do they make other sounds too?”

Gojo glanced at the girl lounging against his shoulder and answered lazily, “Animal World.”

Recently, Yue had become obsessed with Animal World. Every weekend at exactly 6:30 p.m., she glued herself to the TV.

At those times, even Gojo Satoru couldn’t change the channel—otherwise, the desserts in his fridge would mysteriously vanish.

Recalling last week’s wiped-out dessert stock, Gojo pinched Yue’s cheek with mixed amusement and exasperation.

This girl who scored single digits on tests was shockingly vindictive.

Yue thought for a moment. “They also bleat.”

Panda immediately copied her. “Baa—baa—!” Its eyes sparkled. “Pandas have so many sounds!”

Despite his appearance, Panda had been raised like a human since childhood, and it showed.

“Lots,” Yue said seriously, raising a finger. “Bleating happens during mating.”

“???” Panda froze. Steam practically rose from its head.

Maki scoffed. “Idiot.”

Inumaki poked the petrified panda. “Mustard Leaf?”

Yuta’s ears turned red. He glanced at Yue, then muttered quietly, “…Animal World shows that?”

“Mating is quick,” Yue added casually, twirling a strand of Gojo’s hair. “Ten seconds.”

“…” 

Silence fell like a curse.

Gojo’s smile stiffened. He slowly looked down at her.

Yue noticed his gaze and nuzzled his chin affectionately. “I like it.”

Ten seconds. Mating.

Panda instantly bristled. “I-I’m not fast!! I’m a cursed corpse! I don’t even have that function!!”

The realization hit Panda mid-shout.

Inumaki patted its back. “Salmon.”

Yuta hurriedly showed his phone screen. “L-Look. It says here—five minutes.”

Maki took three steps back. “You’re all hopeless.”

Through his sunglasses, Gojo watched Yue happily rubbing against his shoulder. His Adam’s apple shifted slightly. “…Yue.”

She immediately nuzzled him again.

“…Where’s sensei’s penguin bun?”

Without hesitation, Yue answered, “Ijichi.”

Gojo pinched her nose. “You’re getting lazy.”

Which was rich, considering who she’d learned it from.

“Yeah.”

Ijichi, somewhere nearby, felt wronged for reasons unknown.

Gojo glanced at the time and turned back with a devilish smile. “By the way—quiz tomorrow. Study hard~”

Panda’s face fell. “Panda didn’t study…”

“A quiz?!” Maki checked her phone in disbelief. “Already?!”

Her 29-point history test still haunted her.

Yuta’s grip tightened slightly.

Inumaki gasped. “Caviar!!”

Yue, last in class, remained unconcerned—busy fiddling with Gojo’s sunglasses.

Gojo’s smile deepened. “And if you fail—your chocolate gets cut in half.”

Her ahoge snapped upright.

Yue stared up at him, stunned.

Satisfied, Gojo pinched her cheek and guided her away. “Come on. Sensei will buy dessert.”

The shop was crowded with families. Animal-shaped bread filled the display, cocoa-dusted buns steaming warmly.

Yue’s ahoge lit up like a radar. She kicked eagerly.

Gojo tightened his grip, deliberately teasing.

“Sensei!”

“Hm?”

“Down! Bread!”

Only when she bumped his chin did he relent.

Yue bolted to the display, nose nearly pressed to the glass. “Ten.”

The clerk smiled at the star-bright red eyes.

Nearby—

“Brother,” a small boy pleaded, “I’m little!”

“Brother’s an adult,” Gojo replied calmly, taking the last penguin bun anyway.

“That’s for kids!!”

“Doesn’t say adults can’t eat it.”

Yue returned, cheeks puffed. “I want some.”

Gojo sighed and gave her a chocolate bun.

Chocolate spilled from the corner of her mouth as she licked it, eyes crescent-shaped.

The boy burst into tears.

Yue paused… then stuffed part of her bread into his mouth.

Crying stopped instantly.

“Generous,” Gojo murmured.

“So noisy,” Yue replied.

***

Outside, she handed Gojo two bags. “For Sensei.”

Strawberry cream buns. Mango crepes.

“And Panda, Inumaki, Yuta, Maki.” She listed calmly.

Gojo’s lips tugged into an amused smile. “You really like them, huh?”

Yue held his hand, certain. “I like you, Sensei.”

Only him.

Chapter Text

Midday sunlight poured through the classroom’s glass windows, scattering soft, checkered shadows across the floor. Pencil cases on the desks glinted faintly, warmed by the light, as if even the air itself had gone drowsy.

Gojo Satoru stepped into the room.

In front of him, a row of students lay slumped over their desks, utterly unconcerned about the exam scheduled for that very day. Some were half-asleep. Some were fully asleep. One had drool on the desk.

Okkotsu Yuta was the first to notice.

He jolted upright and quickly tapped the desk beside him, whispering urgently, “Gojo-sensei’s here!”

At the keyword, Yue groggily lifted her head. Her red eyes drifted toward the white-haired man standing at the podium—specifically, the paper bag in his hand.

A string of invisible question marks hovered over her head.

“Hey—Gojo’s here.” Zen’in Maki straightened instantly and kicked the chair beside her without mercy.

Panda yelped softly. “Ah!” Then, by pure reflex, it jabbed the elbow of the cursed speech user next to it. “Inumaki! Wake up! The exam’s coming!”

Inumaki blinked slowly, eyes unfocused. “…Tuna?”

“Sensei is personally proctoring today~” Gojo set the paper bag down on the podium and leaned forward, palms braced against the edge. His gaze slid lazily across the room—then paused on the girl by the window, whose ahoge stood straight up like a crooked antenna.

His lips curved into a deeper smile beneath the dark lenses. “Everyone,” he drawled pleasantly, “are you happy?”

Sunlight filtered over his head, catching in his snow-white hair and making it gleam. His profile looked straight out of a manga panel.

No one appreciated it.

Everyone knew what personally proctoring meant.

Panda locked eyes with his reflective lenses and felt a chill crawl up its spine. It hurried over to Yue’s desk and whispered, “Yue… you did give Satoru that stuff, didn’t you?”

Yue rubbed her eyes, confirmed the man at the podium wasn’t a hallucination, and gave a small nod.

Maki leaned closer, brows knitting. “That wasn’t enough?”

“Shoko-senpai said that amount could knock out a cow,” Yuta added quietly, sounding helpless.

“Salmon. Salmon,” Inumaki nodded in agreement.

“Knock out a cow?!” Panda gasped, fur bristling. “Is it ineffective on Special Grade sorcerers?!”

No one had ever mentioned Special Grades having drug resistance.

Besides—it wasn’t even a drug. It just made people relax and fall asleep. Totally harmless!

Before Panda could finish spiraling, a tall shadow loomed over Yue’s desk.

The other four students snapped back into their seats instantly, gripping their pens like model students summoned by muscle memory alone.

Thump.

Gojo’s fingers landed on Yue’s exam paper. As he leaned down, the faint scent of cream and fruit drifted over her.

“Wondering why the teacher didn’t fall for it?” His voice was lazy, amused—like a cat teasing prey.

Yue immediately switched tactics.

She blinked up at him with wide, innocent eyes and leaned forward, rubbing her forehead lightly against his chin. Her voice was soft, faintly nasal with sleepiness. “I like you, sensei.”

“If you fail,” Gojo said calmly, tapping her head with the exam paper, smile sharpening, “All your chocolates are confiscated for a month.”

“!!” Yue froze.

Her entire body went rigid, like a freshly plastered statue. Even her ahoge drooped, as if cracking audibly in despair.

Her complexion had been improving lately.

Gojo pinched her cheek, clearly delighted. “So you need to do well.”

Panda and the others sent her looks of deep sympathy.

Meanwhile, the culprit strolled off, unbothered, and began distributing the exam papers.

“And you lot too,” Gojo added lightly. “Anyone who fails gets extra training.” He smiled sweetly. “Sensei will personally guide you.”

A collective sense of doom settled over the classroom.

Everyone except Gojo looked miserable.

After handing out the papers, Gojo dragged a chair over and sat by the podium. One finger hooked the arm of his sunglasses down slightly, revealing eyes as clear and bright as a summer sky.

Yue stared.

Her pen tapped the paper absentmindedly. She didn’t even glance at the first question.

“Why are you staring at the teacher?” Gojo asked lazily. “The answers aren’t written on my face.”

“It’s pretty.” Yue pointed at his eyes with her pen. “I like it.”

“Oh?” Gojo raised a finger and wagged it teasingly. “If you pass, you can touch them.”

Yue’s eyes lit up instantly, glowing like fine red gemstones in the sunlight. Her ahoge sprang upright again.

Hook, line, sinker.

She dropped her gaze to the test paper and frowned at the first question.

[What is left behind when a spell is used?]

Small head. Big question mark.

She turned slightly and looked at Yuta, who was already writing furiously.

Yuta noticed immediately. He nudged his paper closer.

[What is left behind when a spell is used? — Residue]

[What distinguishes a Grade 2 curse from one nearing Grade 1? — Curse output]

Thwap. Thwap.

Two pieces of chalk struck their foreheads in perfect synchronization.

Yuta ducked his head, mortified.

Yue, without a shred of guilt, picked up the chalk and threw it back.

Gojo tilted aside effortlessly, smiling. “No cheating.”

“Oh.” Yue copied the word residue anyway—and even added a neat period.

Gojo’s brow lifted. His gaze swept the room.

Panda, who had been enjoying the show, immediately bent over its paper, pretending to work.

Inumaki finished the first page, recopied everything onto scrap paper, then carefully looked up.

Seeing Gojo distracted by his phone, he quickly crumpled the paper.

Just as he raised his hand—

Cerulean eyes met his.

“Inumaki-kun,” Gojo smiled kindly. “Need help?”

Inumaki panicked, stuffed the paper into his desk, and shook his head violently. “Fish Flakes!!”

Yue noticed.

Her fingers slid casually into her drawer.

A flicker of red cursed energy pulsed.

The crumpled paper slid neatly into her palm.

Meeting Gojo’s gaze, she calmly pulled out a piece of bread instead, tore it open, and took a bite—answering questions as she chewed.

[Benchmark for Grade 2 or near Grade 1 — Ability to use techniques]

Panda watched Gojo scrolling on his phone, white hair falling forward.

Opportunity.

It leaned toward Inumaki’s desk—

Thwap.

Chalk struck its head.

“No looking around~” Gojo said without lifting his eyes.

Panda whimpered, ears drooping, test paper still painfully blank.

Undeterred, it winked at Yue and coughed dramatically.

Yue glanced at Gojo.

He was smiling.

Her fingertip traced a sigil inside her drawer.

The paper appeared.

Panda caught it perfectly.

“Cough—” Maki’s cough cut through the room.

Gojo looked up just as she said flatly, “Dry throat.”

Her hand slipped into the drawer, fingers closing on cool paper. Victory flickered across her face.

Yuta stared at his paper, panic rising.

Everyone else was writing. Enthusiastically.

Was he the only one who didn’t remember Heian-era technique evolution?!

Beside the podium, Gojo’s phone buzzed—and he laughed quietly.

When Yue put down her pen, Panda and Maki followed suit.

“Incredible,” Panda muttered.

Yuta swallowed.

Half his paper was still blank.

Then—his fingers brushed something in his drawer.

Paper? He looked up.

Panda blocked Gojo’s view. Maki’s weapon case conveniently tipped over. Inumaki shuffled forward.

A human wall.

Understanding dawned.

Yuta opened the paper.

Answers.

He filled in the rest quickly.

“Why are you all blocking me?” Gojo leaned back, chair tipping dangerously.

“It’s hot,” Panda said, scratching its cheek. “Getting air.”

“You’re blocking the vent.”

“Exactly.”

Maki packed slowly. “Wait for Panda.”

“Salmon,” Inumaki gazed out the window.

Yue climbed straight onto Gojo’s lap and reached for his eyes.

Gojo caught her wrist instantly. “Hot too?”

“Reward.” She nodded firmly. “Touch.”

He laughed softly. “So confident?”

“Yes.”

Panda leapt up. “Satoru! Is the AC broken?”

Gojo restrained Yue with one arm and glanced at Yuta. “Finished?”

“…Yeah.”

“Alright,” Gojo stood, lifting Yue easily into his arms. “Class dismissed.” He smiled. “Let’s go celebrate with dessert.”

Chapter Text

The setting sun washed the wooden corridor of Jujutsu High in warm amber light. An evening breeze drifted through the open windows, scattering petals that brushed the frames before settling softly on the floor.

Gojo Satoru glanced back and caught sight of the small figure trailing behind him. The curve of his lips deepened in amusement.

By the time they reached the door, Yue finally caught up. She grabbed the sleeve of his clothes and stared up at his face with unwavering red eyes, repeating like a broken spell, “I want to touch it.”

“The results aren’t out yet,” Gojo said lazily, deliberately misunderstanding her. His long fingers turned the doorknob, and the wooden door creaked open.

Yue released his sleeve, walked around to stand directly in front of him, then flung her arms around his waist, clinging like a koala. “I want to touch it!”

Her clear voice echoed down the empty corridor, startling a few sparrows outside the window.

Gojo acted as if he hadn’t heard a thing. He took long strides toward the refrigerator, unfazed by the human-shaped accessory latched onto him, and pulled out a daifuku.

“I want to touch it!” Yue insisted, bumping her forehead lightly against his chest.

Gojo took an unhurried bite. Sweet cream melted across his tongue, and his cerulean eyes narrowed in satisfaction.

Still clinging to him, Yue puffed out her cheeks in anger. Her voice rose sharply. “I want to touch it!! Sensei!!”

“Be good,” Gojo said calmly, patting the top of her head without even looking back. He reached into the fridge again and pulled out a Mont Blanc.

Yue grumbled, clearly displeased.

A flicker of scarlet flashed.

In an instant, the Mont Blanc, the chocolate lava cake, and the matcha roll vanished from the refrigerator.

The white-haired man lowered his head.

The playful air around him cooled instantly, like ice sealing over a lake.

Yue tilted her head back, completely unfazed, and repeated with stubborn clarity, “I want to touch.”

“So you’ve learned how to threaten your teacher now?” Gojo swallowed the cream in his mouth and pinched her cheek lightly. “We haven’t even settled last time.”

“I want to touch!” Her cheek flushed red under his fingers, but she didn’t flinch.

Gojo sighed theatrically. “Give the dessert back.”

Still unmoved, Yue stared straight at him, desire plain and unhidden.

A faint chill brushed her senses—like blue sky bleeding through a veil, sinking into her scarlet gaze.

“…I can’t win with you.” Gojo drawled.

With his free hand, he slowly unwound the blindfold.

Black fabric slid away, revealing smooth skin, pale lashes—then those unmistakable cerulean eyes, vivid and endless like the open sky.

Sunlight filtered through the blinds, gilding the corners of his gaze in gold. Shadows from his lashes trembled faintly beneath them.

He leaned closer. “Three touches only.”

Yue nodded instantly, eyes shining like fallen stars.

She raised one finger and lightly brushed his eyelashes—soft, delicate, trembling like butterfly wings.

Next, her fingertips gently traced the outline of his eyes, warm and reverent.

Finally, she stopped just short of his iris, stroking the air a hair’s breadth away, careful as if touching moonlight.

“I like it,” Yue murmured, her voice melting into sweetness as her hand withdrew. Dimples appeared faintly at the corners of her smile.

Without thinking, Gojo pressed a finger into one of those dimples. His eyes curved upward before he realized it.

Satisfied, Yue grew bold. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head there, sighing contentedly like a stray cat curled beside a heater.

“If you steal sensei’s dessert again…” Gojo supported her waist as he stood, voice casual. “I’ll make you clean every cursed tool at the school.”

Can’t let kids develop bad habits, he thought solemnly.

Yue ignored him completely and raised her finger again.

The refrigerator instantly refilled—crammed tighter than before.

Gojo’s gaze swept over the mountain of sweets, stopping on a familiar white handkerchief wedged between boxes.

“So that’s where it went,” he muttered, pulling it out. “No wonder sensei couldn’t find it.”

Yue snatched it back and stuffed it into her pocket, glaring possessively. “Mine.”

Gojo chuckled. “It’s just a handkerchief.”

He unwrapped a chocolate daifuku and popped it into her mouth. “Stealing sensei’s things and still acting righteous?”

“I like it…” Yue mumbled around the food, cheeks puffed, ahoge swaying as she chewed.

“Hm?” Gojo unwrapped one for himself, deliberately provoking her. “Sensei doesn’t like it.”

Her chewing stopped. Red eyes widened instantly. “You like me.”

Gojo swallowed and picked up a chocolate cake, dragging his words out as he walked. “I just don’t like—”

Warmth suddenly soaked his collar.

He froze.

Tears streamed down Yue’s cheeks, soaking into the fabric at his collar.

Gojo’s smile vanished.

He set the cake down, sat, and pulled her straight into his lap. “Just kidding,” he said softly, cupping her face and wiping away tears. “Sensei loves you the most.”

Her sobs broke loose immediately, face buried against his neck.

Gojo panicked internally. “Hey—don’t cry,” he coaxed, patting her back. “You can have the cake. Chocolate too.”

The crying only grew louder.

Desperate, he pinched the back of her neck and quickly fed her chocolate.

Yue chewed while sobbing, tears clinging stubbornly to her lashes.

Sunlight poured over her face, making her look unbearably pitiful—and adorable.

“…Chocolate cake…” she sniffed, glancing toward the table.

Gojo surrendered completely.

He fed her a forkful. “Happy now?”

“Mmm!” She curled into him, full and content.

“Crybaby,” Gojo murmured fondly, rubbing his face against hers.

Soon, Yue drifted off, warm and heavy in his arms.

Gojo carried her toward the dormitory bed.

“Dorm…” she mumbled.

He paused. “Oh? Going back by yourself?”

She hugged his neck sleepily. “Be good.”

“…Disrespectful,” he laughed, setting her down.

“I like you, sensei.”

His heart skipped.

“I know,” he said gently. “Sensei likes you the most too.”

“Goodbye,” Yue murmured. “I love you the most.”

“Goodbye,” Gojo replied, smiling. “Sensei wants honey toast tomorrow.”

She nodded and walked off, her shadow long in the sunset.

***

The next morning, sunlight blazed overhead as Gojo arrived carrying a bag of triple-layered mochi.

“Maki, want an autograph?” he yawned. “Sensei’s in a great mood.”

“Where’s Yue?” Maki cut in sharply.

Gojo’s smile faded. “She didn’t come to class?”

“…She walked out yesterday,” Maki said.

Silence fell.

Gojo’s fingers tightened around the

mochi bag. “…Not in the dorm?”

“No.”

Panda frowned. “Her complexion was better though…”

Gojo didn’t answer.

His fingertips traced the packaging, slow and tense.

Chapter Text

The black sedan screeched to a halt at the entrance of Jujutsu High, tires shrilling against asphalt as gravel sprayed outward, bouncing off the roadside trees with sharp tap-tap sounds.

Ijichi stumbled out of the car with a stack of documents clutched to his chest, sweat still beading along his temples.

Ahead of him, Gojo Satoru leaned casually against a vermilion pillar. The midday sun gilded his frost-white hair in warm gold, though not a trace of warmth clung to him. A wrapped piece of candy spun rapidly between his fingers—too fast, too impatient.

“G–Gojo-san!” Ijichi bent forward slightly, hurrying over. “Ms. Yue’s mission records—everything’s here.”

For the first half of the month, Yue had assisted Gojo directly. Only after returning to school in the latter half had she begun taking missions independently. Ijichi had spent hours compiling reports from both sides.

And the conclusion he reached was unsettling.

Her workload far exceeded that of a normal sorcerer.

Gojo accepted the documents, long fingers flipping through the pages at a frightening speed. His gaze skimmed over the reports, sharp and precise.

The assigned locations over the past week were scattered across remote areas—none too far from Tokyo, yet deliberately spread out.

Two weeks ago, Yue’s condition had been so severe she had stopped breathing more than once. He’d kept her by his side out of necessity. But recently, the episodes had vanished. She’d insisted on returning to school, and against his better judgment, he’d allowed things to resume according to standard procedure.

Sorcerers could apply for missions freely—after all, manpower was always lacking.

The addresses marked across the pages clustered like stars, densely encircling Tokyo.

“Smart,” Gojo murmured, an unreadable chuckle slipping between the rustle of paper.

Ijichi hesitated. “Um… are we… going to these locations to look for Ms. Yue?” He swallowed. “Should I prepare the car?”

“No need.” Gojo tossed the documents back into his arms. “I’ll go alone.”

He waved lazily.

And vanished.

***

The forest on Mount Kuroba was unnaturally dense. Sunlight failed to penetrate the canopy, and dead leaves crunched beneathfoot. The air was silent—too silent. Even insects were absent.

Gojo halted mid-step.

His nose twitched.

Twice.

In the next moment, he ripped the blindfold from his face, Six Eyes sharpening as they locked onto something unseen.

Space folded.

He reappeared several meters ahead.

A hidden cave opened before him.

Inside, vein-like crimson tentacles wove together into a grotesque nest. At its center lay a black-haired girl, motionless. Her skin was ashen, nails tinged blue-purple as her fingers clutched a crudely stitched doll to her chest.

The moment Gojo stepped inside—

The mangled head crowning the nest twitched.

Tentacles surged forward like starving beasts, reeking of decay as they wrapped around him.

They struck the doll first.

And instead of retreating, the tentacles thrashed even more violently.

Gojo advanced, reaching for the girl.

Suddenly, the grotesque head began to chant.

The sound was wrong—like countless warped instruments forced together, grinding out a melody that scraped directly against the mind.

Gojo’s brows knit.

Dizziness washed over him.

The cave twisted. The tentacles blurred. The girl’s form wavered, overlapped with the distant sobbing of a child.

Grinding his teeth, Gojo raised a hand and struck directly at the creature's head with cursed energy.

The melody fractured.

The distortion ebbed.

Silence returned.

His vision cleared just in time to see a tentacle pry open Yue’s mouth, feeding her something unseen.

All around them, plants withered. Leaves curled. Even insects dropped lifelessly to the ground.

Life was being drained.

“Blue.”

Compressed cursed energy roared forward.

The tentacle recoiled instantly, turning translucent as it shielded Yue. Still, it refused to yield.

Gojo seized the opening and teleported directly in front of the nest, reaching for her—

The moment his fingers brushed her shoulder, scarlet tentacles burst from her wrist like venomous snakes, piercing straight through his chest.

Warm blood spilled out, splattering across Yue’s white uniform in blooming stains of red.

Gojo sucked in a sharp breath and immediately activated Reverse Cursed Technique. Flesh regenerated at a visible pace, but the tentacle clung stubbornly to him.

Blood continued to flow—drawn greedily into the tiny mouth at its tip.

He pulled Yue into his arms, reaching for the tentacle—

And froze.

Her ashen complexion was lightening.

Color—faint, but real—was returning.

His gaze snapped to the tentacle.

It wasn’t just feeding on blood.

Something else was being taken.

Fatigue crashed over him like a wave. Gojo slid down against the stone wall, still holding Yue, continuing to run Reverse Cursed Technique on himself.

Gradually, the nest stilled.

The mangled head leaned closer, tentacles brushing Yue’s cheek as if checking her condition. Satisfied, it withdrew, the remaining tentacles curling inward, cocooning them both in a strange, almost gentle embrace.

Time blurred.

When the last of the small tentacles finally retreated back into Yue’s wrist, Gojo’s skin had gone pale.

He pressed his fingers beneath her nose.

Her breathing—once barely there—was now steady.

This was the first time Reverse Cursed Technique had left him this drained.

Forcing clarity into his sluggish mind, he pulled out his phone, sent a brief message, then staggered to his feet and carried Yue out of the cave.

Each step felt like walking on cotton. His vision swam.

***

Ijichi stared at the message in disbelief.

He understood where to go.

But the rest…?

Despite his confusion, he floored the accelerator.

When the car finally stopped, Ijichi was about to make a call—until movement caught his eye in the rearview mirror.

Gojo Satoru emerged from the trees, Yue unconscious in his arms.

“G–Gojo-san! We should go to Ieiri-san—” The words died in his throat.

Gojo’s face was pale. Yue’s uniform was stained with blood.

Ijichi’s heart lurched.

“No,” Gojo said quietly, opening the car door. “Apartment.”

He placed Yue carefully in the back seat and collapsed in beside her, eyes already closed.

Ijichi didn’t ask another word.

The car tore down the mountain road.

***

At the apartment building, Ijichi called softly, “Gojo-san… we’re here.”

Gojo stirred slowly before lifting Yue into his arms. Seeing his unsteady stance, Ijichi hurried to hand over the bag from the passenger seat.

Inside, Gojo carried Yue straight to the bedroom.

He stripped away her mud-stained uniform, tucked her beneath the covers, leaving only her head visible.

His head throbbed violently.

He discarded his bloodied coat and lay down beside her—yet sleep refused to come.

Instead, clarity returned.

Turning onto his side, Gojo studied her face. Long lashes fluttered faintly with each breath.

He thought of the scar he’d glimpsed earlier.

Innocent?

Yes.

And reckless.

She’d left her teacher behind at the school and gone straight to the battlefield.

His fingers pinched her nose sharply.

Just then, something slender coiled around his hand.

Gojo’s eyes narrowed as a familiar tentacle surfaced.

“Ah.” He grabbed it firmly. “So it was you.”

The tentacle struggled once… then went limp, shamelessly playing dead.

“Little Red?” Gojo shook it. “Bow, or Chinese knot?”

The tip twitched, curling into a question mark.

“Thought so.” He released it, watching it retreat back to Yue’s wrist.

The creature that once towered like a water tower was now reduced to this.

A price.

For reincarnation—or for saving lives.

Exhaustion claimed him again.

Gojo pulled Yue closer, closed his eyes—

And finally slept.

Chapter Text

Gojo Satoru woke to an unfamiliar emptiness.

Yue wasn’t in his arms, nor anywhere in the bed.

He followed the faint residual pull of her cursed energy into the next room and flicked on the light.

Warm yellow light spilled across the room like melted honey, making the faint wisps of lingering scarlet cursed energy stand out sharply within the glow.

There was a soft rustle from the corner.

He didn’t need to look.

The little cat was hiding there.

Yue was curled up in the shadows, huddled tightly like a startled black kitten. Her nose and eyes were red, her shoulders trembling faintly.

Gojo stepped into the room, paused by the bed, then sat down and leaned back against the headboard, cerulean eyes half-lidded. “Come here.”

Her eyelashes fluttered violently.

Before she could even react properly, her body blurred—space folding as she bolted for the door.

Residual cursed energy from the teleport lingered in the air.

Gojo was already there.

With practiced ease, his long fingers caught the back of her collar, lifting her cleanly off the ground.

Suspended midair, Yue looked exactly like a kitten caught by the scruff—limbs dangling, eyes wide.

“Haven’t you cried enough?” Gojo sighed.

His fingertips brushed gently beneath her eyes, wiping away the tears clinging stubbornly to her lashes.

The moment she felt his body heat, Yue struggled violently. Her legs kicked in the air, twisting as she tried to escape his hold.

Holding a grudge now? Gojo raised an eyebrow—and released her without warning.

She hit the floor. And vanished.

“…She really ran?” Gojo stared at the empty space.

His Six Eyes caught the spatial fluctuation instantly—coming from the master bedroom.

He walked over unhurriedly.

Sure enough, there was a small, suspicious bulge beneath the blanket.

He lifted the covers.

Yue looked up at him, tears still clinging to her lashes.

“I really can’t do anything with you,” Gojo muttered.

He leaned down and pulled her firmly into his arms, wrapping one arm around her waist—tight enough that there wasn’t even a sliver of space between them.

It was her safest position.

After a brief moment of stiffness, Yue’s hands shot up, clutching at his neck. The sobs she’d been holding back broke loose all at once, loud and messy, like a faucet turned fully open.

Hot tears soaked rapidly into the front of his shirt.

Gojo calmly reached into her uniform pocket, pulled out a chocolate ball, unwrapped it with practiced speed, and—timing it perfectly during a pause in her crying—popped it into her mouth.

The sudden sweetness made her bite down instinctively. Her sobs stopped mid-breath, dissolving into quiet chewing.

“You cry a lot,” Gojo said lightly, poking her puffed cheek. “Crybaby.”

“Does it hurt?” Yue pressed her fingertip gently against the spot on his chest where he’d been pierced.

Her voice was muffled by chocolate. Gojo leaned closer without realizing it.

Her red eyes—washed clean by tears—were clear and deep, like fermented wine, reflecting his image perfectly.

Does it hurt? Gojo had never seriously considered the question.

He glanced down at her finger. “Just a small injury,” he replied casually, ruffling her hair.

It wasn’t comfort—it was fact. The reverse cursed technique had already repaired everything. No scar remained.

As long as the core of cursed energy wasn’t damaged, even fatal wounds could be undone in an instant. Pain, to him, was little more than a fleeting illusion.

After swallowing the chocolate, Yue spoke again, her voice small. “I’m bad.”

Her delicate features twisted with self-loathing. She looked like a wilted flower, drained of color and light.

Gojo lifted her and settled her onto his lap, pinching her cheek without mercy. “You can’t expect your teacher to be completely useless, can you?”

Yue froze.

The realization that she’d hurt him hit her fully.

She rolled off him and curled tightly into the blankets, shutting herself away.

Gojo immediately tugged her out.

She rolled back in.

He pulled her out again.

They went back and forth like that—five, six times—until Yue finally collapsed on top of him, exhausted. The single ahoge atop her head swayed gently with each breath.

“Sensei.”

“Hm?”

“Sensei.”

“Hm.”

“…Are you still alive?”

Gojo laughed softly and tugged her cowlick hard enough to make her wrinkle her nose. “What do you think, Yue?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she tilted her head and pressed her ear against his chest, right where his heartbeat was strongest.

A moment passed. “Sensei…”

“Alive,” Gojo replied lazily. He reached over, turned off the lamp, and lay down.

The steady thump of his heart echoed against her cheek, slow and strong, like waves breaking on a distant shore.

Moonlight traced the lines of his face, as if someone were carefully sketching him in silver.

Yue stared for a while. Then she suddenly remembered something and tried to sit up.

Gojo’s arm tightened instantly around her waist. “Where are you going?” he asked hoarsely.

“The cake,” Yue muttered, rubbing her ear. “The chocolate cake.”

“We’ll eat it tomorrow.” Gojo pressed her head back against his chest. “Teacher wants to sleep.”

Yue quieted immediately and obediently curled against him.

Gojo shifted onto his side, adjusted his position—and scooped her back when she nearly rolled off, using her like a pillow.

“I don’t like it,” Yue muttered, curled like a cat. “This position.”

Pretty picky. Gojo yawned and rubbed his chin lightly against her hair before settling again.

Yue didn’t wait for help this time. She climbed onto him herself, pressing her cheek firmly against his chest. Her fingers fidgeted idly in the dim light until they found his hand and hooked around his fingers.

Only then did she close her eyes.

A while later—

Her lashes trembled.

Her red eyes opened again.

“Go to sleep,” Gojo murmured.

“Sensei… does it hurt?” Yue whispered, her fingertips brushing lightly across his forehead.

The third time she touched him, Gojo caught her hand. “If you keep this up, I’ll confiscate your chocolate.”

But Yue kept staring at his forehead.

She didn’t know why.

She just felt… unbearably sad.

After a long silence, she spoke again, so softly it was almost swallowed by the dark. “I don’t like it when Sensei gets hurt.”

The words fell like a drop of boiling water into ice.

Something in Gojo’s chest loosened—quietly, irreversibly.

When he looked down, Yue was already asleep.

Her lashes cast soft, wing-like shadows in the moonlight.

***

The next day.

Ignoring the class bell entirely, Yue walked straight into the infirmary.

Ieiri Shoko, having just finished treating a sorcerer, lowered her mask and raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

Yue nodded politely, glanced once at the patient now sitting up, and said bluntly, “I want to learn Reverse Cursed Technique.”

Shoko blinked. Then smiled. “Alright.”

Ding—

The end-of-class bell rang.

Panda lifted its head groggily as Yue drifted into the classroom like a ghost. “Where’d Yue go?”

“The infirmary,” Yue said, pulling out a chair. There was a faint crease between her brows.

Yuta noticed immediately. “Yue… what’s wrong?”

“What’s ‘whoosh-pa’?” Yue suddenly asked.

Toge tilted his head. “Salmon?”

Maki frowned. “Some kind of technique?”

Panda sighed. “That’s the sound effect for a finishing move.”

“…A firework?” Yuta guessed weakly.

Yue frowned. She didn’t know either—but she was certain none of them were right.

From that day on, Yue began taking on missions independently, even cornering Ijichi for long “friendly” talks and convincing him to quietly redirect some of Gojo Satoru’s workload to her.

Her teleportation stabilized rapidly under constant use.

As long as she could lock onto spatial coordinates, she could cross Japan freely—though distance still consumed significant cursed energy.

Within two weeks, Gojo noticed something strange.

His workload had dropped drastically.

In the backseat of the car, Gojo flipped through the remaining paper missions.

Ijichi, driving, was drenched in cold sweat.

“Yue’s been busy lately,” Gojo said casually, Six Eyes fixed behind his sunglasses.

Ijichi gripped the steering wheel and said nothing.

Something felt off.

His phone lit up—then went dark.

Twelve hours.

Gojo dialed.

It rang for half a minute before a tired voice answered. “Sensei?”

“What are you doing?” Gojo asked, switching to video.

The screen showed a flawless blue sky.

His smile vanished. “Yue. Switch the camera.”

There was a brief hesitation.

Then—

A delicate face appeared on-screen, streaked with blood.

Gojo sat bolt upright. “Location. I’m coming.”

Yue wiped her face casually, chewing chocolate as she smiled. “Sensei,” she said brightly, “I can use Reverse Cursed Technique now.”

Chapter Text

Following her teacher’s instructions, Yue waited obediently by the roadside.

Her white school uniform was soaked with blood. Combined with the streaks smeared across her pale face, she looked less like a student and more like someone who had just walked away from a crime scene.

Cars passed occasionally.

The moment drivers noticed her, they slammed the accelerator and fled, tires screeching as if escaping a ghost.

Another car splashed straight through a puddle, muddy water spraying up and staining her slender legs.

Yue lowered her gaze, watching the brown marks slowly spread across her stockings.

After a while, she squatted down, picked up a twig with little interest, and began poking at the ants crawling along the curb, watching them carry crumbs twice their size.

Then—

A black sedan broke the unspoken rule.

It slowed.

And stopped directly in front of her.

The door opened. A large, well-defined hand reached out first.

“Sensei!” Yue sprang to her feet and climbed into the back seat without hesitation, settling herself beside him.

Gojo Satoru tugged lightly at the edge of his blindfold. Through the loosened wrap, a sliver of his Six Eyes glimmered faintly.

The blood on Yue’s cheeks was glaring enough—but the amount staining her uniform was downright alarming.

“Yue,” Gojo said, his fingertip pressing lightly against the area on her chest where the blood was densest. The spray pattern there was unmistakable. “Where did this come from?”

That cursed spirit had protected her well enough that even deliberately injuring her would’ve been difficult.

Yue blinked, red eyes lowering as her fingers tightened around the hem of her uniform.

“A cursed spirit,” she answered quietly.

“Oh?” Gojo smiled faintly. “And what kind of cursed spirit managed to hurt Yue, a Special Grade?”

“M-maybe…” Yue looked away, guilt seeping into her voice.

“Is that so?” Gojo’s hand moved to the back of her neck, pressing just enough to force her to look up.

“But sensei only assigned one Special Grade cursed spirit this month.”

Top-tier sorcerers were rare. So were Special Grade curses. There were barely a dozen of either registered across all of Japan.

Yue froze.

Her head turned instinctively toward the driver’s seat.

Ijichi froze internally. Please don’t notice me. Please don’t remember I exist.

“I… I didn’t say anything…” Ijichi stammered, gripping the steering wheel as if it might save him.

Gojo didn’t even glance his way. His fingers tightened slightly. “Why are you looking at Ijichi?”

Yue immediately leaned over, clinging to Gojo’s arm with exaggerated affection. “Sensei,” she said sweetly, “hug me.”

“No,” Gojo replied cheerfully. “Lying children don’t get privileges.”

Yue pouted. She stared at him for a long moment before finally speaking. “I did it myself.”

Gojo wasn’t surprised.

Something bulged faintly in her pocket, drawing his attention.

Following his gaze, Yue reached in and pulled it out.

A tightly coiled mass of translucent scarlet cursed energy—tendrils compressed and rolled together like a ball of yarn.

The tendrils writhed violently, but the binding was so tight they couldn’t break free.

Gojo raised an eyebrow. This was tied far more securely than a simple knot.

He reached out and poked it.

Instantly, one end uncurled.

The scarlet curse-energy strands split apart, multiplying into countless thin tendrils that shot forward and wrapped around his fingers.

Before he could speak—

Fragments of memory slammed into his mind.

Yue quietly gathering the bloodstained bandages from the sofa while he slept, stuffing them into her pocket.

Sneaking into the kitchen in the middle of the night, eating chocolate until dawn.

Intercepting a shirt meant for cleaning from Ijichi, then secretly buying an identical replacement.

Slipping into the infirmary to ask Ieiri Shoko about Reverse Cursed Technique—leaving Shoko utterly baffled.

And finally—

Yue sitting on her dorm bed, methodically sorting mission reports, pulling out the list of Special Grade cursed spirits.

Before the battle, she carefully rolled the cursed-energy tendrils wrapped around her arm into a ball, manually disabling her auxiliary defense.

The next instant—

A cursed spirit’s attack pierced straight through her chest.

Gojo absorbed the chaotic memories in silence.

When the flow stopped, all he saw was the back of Yue’s head.

“So Yue-chan did all this?” His voice was soft—pleasant, even—sweet as honey layered with poison. “Why aren’t you looking at Sensei?”

Yue immediately grabbed the tendril ball that had betrayed her, kneading it furiously like a stress toy.

Though she heard no anger in his voice, she didn’t dare turn around at once. She glanced at him cautiously from the corner of her eye.

Only when she saw his lips still curved upward did she turn fully and scoot closer.

The moment she did, Gojo seized her face with one hand and pulled her cheeks apart.

His smile vanished. “Is this what you learned, Yue?”

Who taught you this? Absolutely insane.

Yue’s ahoge swayed as she muttered, “I learned it from Sensei.”

She hadn’t understood Ieiri-senpai’s explanation at all, so she’d asked Gojo instead.

After all, only Ieiri Shoko and Gojo Satoru could use Reverse Cursed Technique.

Ieiri’s words echoed faintly in her memory—

That man awakened RCT at the brink of death. In that sense, he’s a natural monster.

“Is that so?” Gojo tugged her cheeks harder, irritation leaking through. “Then why did you know enough to avoid me?”

Yue winced, trying to pry his hand away. When that failed, she answered softly, “Because Sensei would be unhappy.”

“Knowing that, why did you still do it?”

His grip tightened.

Yue’s body was fragile. She couldn’t even endure basic physical training. Bruises that faded in three days on others could linger on her for a week.

Tears welled from the pain. She struggled helplessly.

Gojo released her at last, then paused. “…Where’s that thing on you?”

“Tired. Resting. Sleeping,” Yue replied quickly, face still flushed. “Sensei… let go.”

Then, as if remembering something, she pulled something out of thin air.

A heart.

Still faintly beating.

Blood dripped between her fingers, splattering onto the leather seat and her skirt, half-dried clots sliding down the fabric.

“A souvenir,” Yue said brightly, holding it out like a toy.

A choked gag sounded from the front seat.

Gojo stared at the heart—and understood.

This wasn’t random cruelty.

She had recreated his injury.

The angle. The placement. The exact wound from when cursed-energy tendrils had pierced his left chest weeks ago.

Even that detail hadn’t been missed.

Gojo let go of her face and flicked her forehead instead.

Yue, ignoring the sting, pushed the heart toward him again. “Teacher. Souvenir.”

…A truly special gift.

Gojo wiped the blood staining her already ruined skirt and said calmly, “Yue, can you put it away first? Teacher doesn’t have anywhere to keep it.”

Completely unaware of being rejected, Yue’s eyes sparkled. She put the heart away and immediately leaned against him like a rewarded animal. “Hug.”

Gojo placed his hands on her waist and lifted her onto his lap.

Yue adjusted herself instinctively, curled into his arms, and began playing with his fingers.

The cursed-energy tendrils that had tattled were now tightly knotted and sealed into a spatial barrier.

After returning to Jujutsu High, Gojo personally oversaw a full examination.

Once Ieiri confirmed that the regenerated heart was completely intact, Gojo wasted no time. He picked Yue up and strode straight toward the training grounds.

Yue, still basking in post-hug warmth, had no idea what awaited her. She stayed close, practically glued to his side.

Gojo patted her head. “Is it not protecting you anymore?”

“It’ll be sleeping for a long time,” Yue replied, lifting her wrist to show a tendril that had slipped free of its bindings. “Kurenai is here.”

Gojo remembered that cave.

That cursed entity had indeed been severely weakened.

Understanding settled in.

Without that protection, Yue had a fatal flaw.

And that flaw needed to be corrected.

“Let’s train,” Gojo said, dragging her into the field.

A moment later—

Dust exploded into the air.

Yue was thrown like a rag doll.

“Get up,” Gojo said coolly, looking down at her. “You need to take this seriously.”

Her physical skills were nearly nonexistent. Without external support, she was dangerously vulnerable.

Panting, Yue wiped dirt from her face, circulated her cursed energy, and forced herself back to her feet.

Panda and the others arrived just in time to see the dust cloud.

“…That’s Gojo and Yue in there?!” Panda exclaimed.

Maki watched silently, arms crossed.

Gojo showed no mercy. He dodged Yue’s attack, flashed behind her, and drove her into the ground with a brutal elbow strike.

“He’s fully recovered,” Maki said flatly. Then she glanced at the black-haired boy beside her.

“Congratulations. You’re not last anymore.”

Yuta fell silent.

“Inumaki nodded. “Salmon.”

Chapter Text

The afterglow of the setting sun spilled across the Jujutsu High training grounds, bathing everything in a hazy, dreamlike gold.

Gojo Satoru bent down and scooped up the girl lying limp on the ground like a discarded rag doll.

Yue’s cursed energy was completely depleted. Damp black hair clung to her flushed cheeks, her uniform rumpled and smeared with dust. She looked utterly exhausted.

“Let’s stop here for today,” Gojo said lightly, giving her a small shake in his arms, as if showing off an interesting toy.

Yue’s eyelashes fluttered. With the last of her strength, she reached out and weakly grabbed his sleeve.

Gojo lowered his head, catching her faint murmur.

“…I want… chocolate…”

Even like this, she was still thinking about sweets.

“All right.” Gojo suppressed a laugh. “What do you want for dinner?”

Yue was too tired to move even a finger. Like a deflated doll, her limbs hung slack as she peacefully closed her eyes.

Dinner could wait until she woke up.

***

That afternoon, Gojo tested the students’ current limits. In the evening, he revised their training plans based on each person’s condition.

Sunlight filtered through the trees, scattering shadows across the field.

Yue’s eyes were unfocused. She felt like this run would never end. Her body kept moving, but her soul had already checked out.

Beside her, Yuta wasn’t doing much better, panting heavily as he ran. Ahead of them, Zenin Maki and Inumaki Toge lapped them with ease.

Panda sat on the grass, stopwatch raised. “Maki and Toge—final lap!”

Yue and Yuta, once again falling behind, exchanged a look. The same despair reflected in both their faces.

Yue took a deep breath and forced herself to speed up, refusing to fall any farther back.

By the steps at the edge of the field, a tall white-haired figure stood quietly watching.

Yuta fared slightly better—he’d started training earlier. Yue, however, was already seeing stars. Her legs felt like lead. Each step took everything she had.

Just as she was about to collapse, Yuta caught her in time.

The two stragglers crossed the finish line together and immediately collapsed onto the grass.

Inumaki approached with two open bottles of sports drink, crouched beside them, and lightly tapped their arms with the chilled bottles. “Tuna.”

Yuta took one, gulped it down, and exhaled. “Thanks.”

“Thanks,” Yue echoed, draining half the bottle.

The dryness in her throat finally eased.

Once they’d rested enough, Panda flipped open a small notebook and cleared his throat. “Next—sparring practice. Yuta versus Maki. Yue versus Toge.”

A light breeze passed through the field.

Yue suddenly lifted her head, nose twitching.

She sensed it instantly.

Sensei.

Like a cat spotting prey, exhaustion vanished from her body in an instant. She sprang up and sprinted toward the edge of the field.

Gojo wasn’t surprised. He opened his arms and caught her effortlessly.

“Sensei!” Yue wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face against his chest.

Gojo smoothed the ahoge on her head, pulled a piece of chocolate from his pocket, and held it to her lips. “Happy now, Yue?”

She bit down, sweetness blooming across her tongue. “Happy.”

She nestled against him contentedly, eyes half-closed, like a cat savoring its favorite treat.

Gojo poked her puffed cheek with the back of his finger. “I meant—did you enjoy training?”

“Yes!” Yue looked up, ruby-red eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “I want to get stronger!”

Gojo raised an eyebrow. That was new.

“Oh?” he asked. “Why?”

Yue grew serious, counting on her fingers. “Then you won’t miss limited-edition Mont Blancs, you won’t have to sleep between missions, and I can make that rainbow toast you talked about…”

Gojo had heard every reason imaginable for wanting strength. This was a first.

Warmth spread quietly through his chest. He ruffled her hair. “Then you’ll have to work hard.”

She nodded hard. “Only the strong are worthy of marrying Sensei.”

Gojo’s smile froze.

Four sharp gasps followed.

Behind a tree, four suspicious heads slowly withdrew.

“Who taught Yue that?” Gojo asked pleasantly—dangerously.

“Panda,” Yue answered honestly. “Panda said if you’re strong enough, you can keep your teacher at home and make him as pretty as a flower.”

“I DID NOT SAY THAT!” Panda burst out, waving its arms frantically.

Yuta stared at Yue with open admiration.

Inumaki gave a discreet thumbs-up. “Tuna… mayo.”

Maki pushed up her glasses, stunned.

Gojo exhaled slowly. “Panda, I’ll personally supervise your training later.” Then he looked down and pinched Yue’s nose. “Don’t even think about it. Impossible.”

He still had standards.

He had always believed girls should bloom freely in the sun, not have their futures entangled—especially not with him.

Yue’s face scrunched up, then brightened again. “Then I’ll marry you when I become stronger.”

Gojo paused.

He crouched slightly and patted her head firmly.

“Marriage is something you decide when you’re able to stand on your own—and when you’ve chosen someone you truly like.”

“I like you the most.” Yue took a small step closer. “Don’t you like me, Sensei?”

The training field went dead silent.

“…Is that a confession?” Panda whispered.

“I think so,” Yuta said weakly.

Maki frowned. “Is she about to get rejected?”

Inumaki looked worried. “Mustard Leaf…”

Gojo looked down at her.

Black hair. Red eyes. Gentle and earnest.

Then he smiled. “Sensei likes Yue too,” he said, leaning closer. “The same way Yue likes Panda’s tail.”

Her cheeks puffed. “Then do you want to marry someone else?”

“No.”

“Then why not me?” Tears welled up.

Gojo quickly covered her eyes. “Because you don’t even know what that kind of commitment really means yet.”

“…So Sensei likes big ones?” she asked pitifully.

Gojo turned slowly toward Panda. “…No.” He immediately shoved Yue back toward the center of the field. “Toge. Spar with Yue.”

Inumaki adjusted his collar, gently patted her shoulder. “Salmon.”

Yue glanced back at Gojo, then answered softly.

“Mm.”

She was distracted and made mistakes. Even holding back, Toge knocked her down.

She lay there, unmoving.

Toge pulled out his phone and typed, showing her the screen. [I’ll treat you to a chocolate rice ball].

Her ahoge shot straight up. “Okay!”

She sprang up again. “Again.”

“Salmon.”

Nearby, Panda rubbed its ears nervously. “Yue and Yuta have improved a lot.”

Gojo didn’t look away from the field. “…Are they close?”

“…Which pair?” Panda asked carefully.

Gojo smiled. “Come on. Sensei will personally guide you.”

“…Can I refuse?”

“What do you think?”

That smile answered everything.

Chapter Text

The middle-aged teacher on the podium droned on about Japanese history, spittle flying as chalk screeched against the blackboard.

Outside the window, cicadas shrilled without pause. Sunlight poured through the glass, scattering harsh white patches across the open textbooks.

Yue’s gaze drifted back from the window. After a moment, she slipped her phone out from her pocket and opened her contacts.

At the very top was a familiar name.

The last message had been sent two days ago—nothing but a single GIF.

A white cat, licking its paw.

Sent by her teacher.

Unanswered.

She stared at the screen for a long time, as if trying to read something hidden between the pixels.

Eventually, Yue laid her phone flat across her history textbook and leaned forward. Black hair spilled down, veiling half her face, but it couldn’t hide the vacant look in her eyes.

Even when the bell rang, she didn’t move.

Zen’in Maki caught sight of her out of the corner of her eye. She leaned toward the panda beside her and whispered, “Gojo’s been gone a while, hasn’t he?”

Gojo Satoru was always busy, but he still showed up at the school at least once a week.

This time, nearly a month had passed without a trace of him.

“He’s probably on a business trip,” Panda yawned, covering its mouth with a furry paw. Its gaze flicked toward Yue, still staring blankly out the window. It sighed. “Summer just started. Cursed spirits are popping up like mosquitoes—he’s probably too busy to breathe.”

Summer heat stirred irritability and negative emotions, the perfect breeding ground for curses.

Inumaki Toge silently pulled out his phone, fingers moving swiftly across the screen.

A few seconds later, Yue suddenly stood up.

“Tuna,” Inumaki said, tilting his phone toward her. The screen displayed the hottest mobile game of the season.

Yue’s eyes finally focused. She tapped the icon without hesitation. “Let’s go.”

“Salmon.” Inumaki nodded, then turned and held his phone up toward Yuta.

Yuta set down his pen. “Can I join?”

“Salmon.”

Panda’s ears shot up. It slammed its paw onto the desk. “I wanna play too!”

That left them one player short.

All eyes turned to Maki.

“Seriously…” she clicked her tongue, pulling out her phone. “Don’t take my lane. I’m top.”

“I wanna play damage too…” Panda drooped, looking around for sympathy.

“Too bad,” Maki shot back. “Go support.”

Everyone wanted to deal damage. Panda, who’d been stuck supporting for half a month, immediately played the pity card.

“No trade,” Yue said flatly.

Yuta hesitated under Panda’s hopeful stare. “Um… I can trade with Panda?”

“Deal!” Panda perked up instantly.

Yuta froze for half a second, then hurriedly switched to support once the match loaded, choosing the only character he vaguely recognized.

Yue locked in her usual marksman and claimed bot lane.

Not long after the laning phase began, Panda—who had loudly promised to carry—was solo-killed three times in a row. Its wails echoed through the classroom.

No one looked surprised.

A panda capable of using a touchscreen was already impressive. Expectations had limits.

Maki shoved the enemy top laner under tower and shot Panda a sideways glance. “Didn’t you insist on switching?”

Yue munched on a chocolate bar as she farmed. “Wait till I scale.”

Toge abandoned the jungle to roam mid—but by the time he arrived, Panda’s character was already dead again.

He casually took down the enemy mid-laner and patted Panda on the shoulder. “Mustard Leaf.”

Despite the chaotic mid lane, the other roles held steady. The first match ended in a clean win.

Panda stared at its 0–12 KDA. “This character just feels wrong.”

Yuta, unused to supporting, glanced at Yue’s KDA score and quietly sighed in relief.

Maki kicked Panda's desk. “You’re not playing mid-lane again, right?”

“No.” Panda shuddered. Then he looked at Inumaki, who was calmly eating a rice ball. “Toge, swap with me.”

“Salmon.”

The second match hadn’t gone five minutes before Panda’s scream rang out again.

“AAAAH—why did the jungle monsters kill me?!”

***

A black sedan cruised smoothly along the Tokyo expressway.

In the back seat, Gojo Satoru lounged with his eyes closed, long legs crossed lazily.

“Gojo-san,” Ijichi asked carefully through the rearview mirror, “should we head to the apartment, or the school?”

“The apartment,” Gojo replied without opening his eyes.

The business trip had taken him somewhere so remote there wasn’t a single decent dessert shop. He’d replenished his sugar the moment he landed.

Now that his cravings were satisfied, his body demanded rest.

The car stopped in front of a high-end apartment building. Gojo stepped out with a suitcase in one hand and a bag of desserts in the other, riding the elevator straight to the top floor.

When the door opened, the ugly doll in the entryway silently watched him change his shoes.

The refrigerator was nearly empty—only a few bottles of expired milk remained.

Gojo tucked the fresh daifuku inside, then headed for the master bedroom, pushing open the bathroom door.

Hot water cascaded down, soaking his white hair. Droplets slid along his jaw and vanished into the steam.

Fatigue slowly drained away.

Reaching for the shower gel, his fingers paused.

The bottle was full.

When Yue lived here, a bottle never lasted half a month. She always used enough to make the bathroom look like it was filled with clouds.

Wrapped in a towel, Gojo stepped out and scanned the bedroom.

Several of his sleep shirts were missing. The ugly doll by the bedside was gone. The sheets were so smooth they looked untouched.

After changing into pajamas, he lay down and pulled the light-blue comforter over his head.

A moment later, a long-fingered hand slipped out from beneath the blanket and accurately grabbed the phone on the nightstand.

***

After class, the group headed to the cafeteria.

Yue ordered extra food and pulled out her phone while waiting.

Since Gojo left on his trip, she’d become glued to her screen—either on missions or staring at it in silence.

Maki liked to tease her for it. You’re going to burn a hole through that thing.

The moment Yue reopened the game, an incoming call flashed on the screen.

She froze. “Sensei?”

She swiped to answer so fast she didn’t notice her character being targeted.

“Yue-chan,” Gojo’s voice came through, bright and demanding. “Sensei wants milk cheesecake, roasted green tea macarons, honey cake, fruit tarts, pudding, ice cream cake—”

“Okay, okay,” Yue replied automatically, fingers flying as she retreated in-game. “I’ll buy them when you get back.”

She assumed he was ordering remotely again. He’d done it plenty of times.

“No,” Gojo said. His voice was suddenly very clear. “Sensei wants to eat now.”

Yue’s heart skipped.

“I’m already home,” he added, sounding deeply wronged. “There wasn’t even a proper dessert shop over there. The sweets weren’t sweet at all. I’ve lost weight.”

Her character died on-screen.

Yue didn’t notice.

She shot to her feet, startling Maki mid-bite. “Sensei’s back!”

Before anyone could react, scarlet light flared—and Yue vanished.

“Does she even plan to eat?” Panda muttered.

***

Across Tokyo, Yue flashed between dessert shops.

She started at Gojo’s favorite place in Ginza, grabbing their signature milk cheesecake and matcha macarons, then dashed to the century-old shop next door for honey pudding.

Her speed was terrifying. Passersby caught glimpses of a black afterimage and rubbed their eyes.

In the apartment, sunlight filtered through sheer curtains, scattering gold across the floor.

Gojo opened his eyes the moment he sensed a familiar surge of cursed energy.

Yue stood at the foot of the bed, arms full of bags like a walking Christmas tree. “The limited-edition matcha macarons sold out,” she said, clearly annoyed. “And the fruit tarts need pre-orders. I’ll get them tomorrow.”

Gojo pushed himself upright, white hair sticking up at odd angles. “You bought all of this?”

“You wanted it.” She set the bags down one by one. Sweat dotted her forehead from nonstop spell use.

Gojo gestured lazily. “Come here.”

The bedside table was too small. Yue dragged over two chairs, arranged everything neatly, then walked back.

Before she could speak, Gojo grabbed her wrist and pulled.

“Sensei?” she blinked.

Her body answered before her brain—kicking off her shoes, climbing onto the bed, curling instinctively into his warmth.

“Sleep with sensei for a bit,” Gojo murmured, wrapping his arms around her like a large doll.

The faint scent of cocoa lingered. He yawned.

Yue adjusted herself obediently, nestling against his neck—then stiffened. “Ice—”

Before she could finish, heat enveloped her. His taller frame pinned her gently in place.

“What are you planning to do?” Gojo asked sleepily.

“The ice cream,” she protested weakly. “It’s not in the fridge.”

She struggled, but his hold tightened.

“Yue will figure it out,” he mumbled, burying his face in her hair.

Blinking, Yue activated a spell.

Several paper bags were wrapped in translucent scarlet cursed energy and vanished into storage space.

“Sleep,” Gojo murmured, resting his chin atop her head.

His hold tightened—less a hug than a quiet, unconscious claim.

One he didn’t even realize he was making.

Chapter Text

Morning light slanted through the eastern windows, spilling a pale golden glow across the old corridor floor. A wind chime hung at the corner of the eaves, chiming softly as the breeze passed through.

Panda lumbered down the hallway, its heavy footsteps thudding against the floor, each step heavy enough to make the tiles feel like they might crack.

“Why did Gojo call us in on our day off?” Panda grumbled as it shoved open the classroom door, ears drooping.

Inumaki Toge followed close behind, his uniform collar pulled high enough to cover half his face. His eyes were still misty with sleep, and he nearly clipped the doorframe as he walked in.

Hearing Panda complain, he shook his head and muttered, “Fish flakes.”

Maki yawned, nearly tripping over her weapon case as she dragged out a chair. “…This definitely isn’t a good sign,” she muttered, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

Yuta rubbed his eyes, took a seat, and promptly dropped his forehead onto the cold surface of the desk. “So sleepy…” he mumbled.

The chill helped clear his head—barely.

He’d only returned to the dorms around three in the morning after finishing a purification mission in a remote area.

Just as the low chorus of complaints filled the room, the classroom door slid open again.

“Good morning, everyone~” Gojo Satoru’s voice drifted in, light and bright—along with the faint, unmistakable scent of something sweet, like cream.

He stepped inside wearing his usual black sorcerer uniform, a black-haired girl slung casually over his shoulder like a human accessory. Her hair spilled down, obscuring half her face as she lazily cracked one eye open.

Yue barely registered the room before she was set back on her feet. The moment she landed, she instinctively wrapped her arms around Gojo’s waist, buried her face into his uniform, and promptly closed her eyes again.

She’d stayed up all night finishing reports—for two people. Her brain had already shut down. All she wanted now was warmth and sleep.

“This doesn’t count as ‘good morning,’” Panda yawned widely, eyeing the infuriatingly energetic teacher. “Today’s supposed to be a rest day.”

Inumaki lifted his head from his folded arms and echoed drowsily, “Salmon.”

Yuta nodded weakly in agreement.

Maki slid her glasses back on, her sharp gaze locking onto Gojo. “You called us here out of nowhere. Explain.”

Gojo glanced down at the girl clinging to him and poked the limp ahoge sticking up from the top of her head. “Does Yue have anything to say?”

Yue didn’t open her eyes. She nudged closer and mumbled, half-asleep, “I want a hug.”

Standing and sleeping was uncomfortable.

Too sleepy.

Gojo blinked—completely oblivious to the fact that he was the reason she was exhausted in the first place. After a brief pause, he simply lifted her up again and pulled her into his arms.

Yue immediately wrapped her arms around his neck out of habit, burying her face against his throat and taking a quiet sniff.

Her warm breath brushed his skin, ticklish enough to make him pause. He pressed a hand lightly against her head to keep her still, then looked back at the students. “I called you all here today,” he announced cheerfully, “to reward you.”

Panda squinted suspiciously. “Really?”

Experience suggested otherwise.

Last time they’d been promised a picnic, they ended up fighting cursed spirits in an abandoned park—and got covered in slime for their trouble.

Gojo sighed theatrically. “Wow, you don’t trust your teacher at all?”

Inumaki nodded without hesitation.

On their previous “hot spring trip,” they’d spent three hours chasing cursed spirits through snowy mountains.

Conditioned by experience, Yuta instinctively reached for the katana at his waist and asked cautiously, “What kind of mission is it?”

“I’m inviting you all to a super luxurious—dinner cruise!” Gojo suddenly declared, voice booming like a late-night shopping host.

The girl in his arms blinked awake at that.

Catching her reaction, Gojo’s smile widened. “A super luxurious dinner. On a super luxurious cruise ship!”

Maki narrowed her eyes. “I don’t believe you.” She pushed her glasses up, the lenses flashing. “Last time you said ‘surprise party,’ we fought a curse user in an underground boxing ring.”

Panda leaned forward, paws gripping the desk. “A luxury cruise? With a luxury dinner?”

Inumaki’s eyes lit up. “Salmon.”

Yuta straightened. “Really?”

Yue rubbed her eyes, still half-asleep. “…A cruise ship?”

Gojo raised one finger and wagged it. “No~”

“I knew it,” Maki said flatly. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“Not luxury,” Gojo continued smoothly, “super luxury~”

Panda shot to its feet, nearly knocking over its chair. “Super luxury?! There has to be king crab!”

“…Really?” Maki hesitated, doubt wavering.

“Super… luxury?” Yuta echoed, impressed but unsure.

Inumaki smacked his lips. “Salmon!”

Gojo patted Yue’s head. “Happy, Yue?”

She nodded faintly, rubbing her cheek against his. “Happy.”

Gojo smiled, satisfied. “Then let’s meet at the port tonight.”

“Tonight?” Panda rubbed its ears.

“Good things should be done early, right?” Gojo replied casually, straightening the collar Yue had rumpled.

Yuta peeked up. “Do we need to change clothes?”

On TV, fancy restaurants always required formalwear. He glanced down at his uniform, suddenly realizing he didn’t own a suit.

Maki frowned. “Can’t we just wear uniforms?” She didn’t have dresses—but she did have plenty of cursed tools.

Panda grew anxious. “Then what about Panda?”

If it didn’t wear clothes, would they even let it onboard?

“Tuna.” Inumaki held up his phone, displaying a search result:

—High-end restaurants require men to wear neat attire, including suits and ties. Women should wear evening gowns or formal suits with heels.—

Panda stared at the words “suit and tie,” imagined its round body stuffed into one, and wilted. “Does Panda have to wear one too?”

Maki glanced at the screen, then looked toward the teacher still casually interacting with Yue. “Is there a dress code?”

Gojo gently pushed Yue’s face away again. “Yes~”

Panda raised a paw. “Does Panda need to wear a suit and tie?”

Gojo, delighted by chaos: “Of course.”

“Then we have to buy everything now,” Maki muttered, checking her phone. “We can still make it to the city.”

Yuta rubbed his nose. “I don’t know how to tie a tie…”

Panda shot its paw up. “I do! I learned from a tutorial!”

Maki eyed Panda. “Don’t tie it like a bow.”

Gojo glanced down at Yue leaning against his shoulder. “Aren’t you coming too?”

Yue shook her head and whispered against his ear, “Liar.”

Last night, while writing reports, she’d seen Ijichi’s mission email.

It mentioned the cruise ship.

Her voice was soft and sleepy—only Gojo could hear it.

He chuckled and whispered back, mimicking her tone, “I’ve been exposed. Should I come clean?”

“No.” Yue poked his earlobe, eyes faintly glittering. “I like you.”

Gojo understood immediately.

No matter what kind of person he was—annoying, unreliable, or secretly kind—she liked him.

His smile spread uncontrollably. He set her down. “Then go shopping with them.”

“Huh?”

He leaned close and murmured, “You need to blend in.”

Maki adjusted her glasses sharply. “What are you two whispering about?”

Yue walked over calmly. “Buying clothes.”

Gojo called Ijichi. Soon, a black sedan pulled up at the school gates.

As Panda climbed in, it shouted, “Ijichi! We need the biggest clothing store!”

Ijichi glanced at the enormous panda in the mirror. “…I already checked.”

Before leaving, Panda solemnly grabbed Maki’s arm. “Buy a size up. Not down.”

Maki pinched the bridge of her nose. “We’ll see if the plus-size store can even handle you.” 

What kind of suit did a panda need?

Yuta raised his katana. “Can I bring this?”

“Salmon.” Inumaki gestured—it could stay in the car.

Yue nibbled on chocolate as she followed Maki into the mall.

The city buzzed with weekend crowds. Traffic lights changed, and people flooded the crosswalk like a tide.

Maki frowned. “Does Gojo really invite us to dinner for no reason?”

“Tuna?” Inumaki offered uncertainly.

Yuta held up his phone. “He sent a photo.”

On the screen was a massive cruise ship, glowing like a palace floating on the sea.

“…This time,” Yuta said earnestly, “it looks real.”

Yue bit into her chocolate, hiding a small smile.

The ship existed—but Ijichi’s report called it a cursed ghost ship.

Had I misjudged Gojo? Maki suddenly glanced at Yue. “What do you think?”

“Sensei… cute,” Yue mumbled.

Maki: “……” She shouldn’t have asked.

Inumaki tugged at his collar. “Salmon.”

He decided to believe it—just this once.

Chapter Text

As dusk slipped beneath the horizon, the final threads of sunset were swallowed by the rolling sea. The cruise ship terminal glowed under rows of bright lights, its polished surfaces scattering reflections like broken diamonds across the water.

A cool, salty breeze swept through the dock.

Zen’in Maki instinctively hunched her shoulders. The thin silk of her dark green dress did nothing to block the cold. She tugged awkwardly at the hem, high heels clicking sharply against the stone pavement—each step stiff, restrained, deeply uncomfortable.

“So troublesome,” she muttered.

Her ponytail, usually tied tight and practical, hung loose tonight. Strands brushed against the back of her neck, tickled by the wind.

Beside her, Yuta Okkotsu stood quietly, eyes fixed on the dark stretch of ocean ahead.

Something moved in the distance.

“…Is that a ship?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Toge Inumaki, standing nearby, adjusted his crooked tie for the fifth time. The slippery silk refused to sit right. Without his usual high-collared uniform and—worse—without his mask, every glance sent a spike of discomfort down his spine.

After Gojo Satoru had confiscated it under the excuse of “formal occasions require presentable faces,” Toge had seriously considered hiding behind Panda all night.

“It is! It’s a super luxurious dinner cruise!” Panda suddenly shouted, waving both paws enthusiastically.

Its oversized suit ballooned around its round frame, making it look more like an overgrown plush toy than a jujutsu sorcerer. Panda bounced toward the edge of the dock, barely containing his excitement.

Yue followed behind it. The black ribbons of her backless dress fluttered in the wind like butterfly wings.

Instead of looking at the ship, she circled behind Panda—

—and noticed its short, rounded tail awkwardly tucked into its oversized trousers, curving unnaturally beneath the fabric.

The crane overhead groaned.

With a dull mechanical rumble, the ship eased closer, its silhouette finally coming into full view.

The illusion shattered instantly.

This was nothing like the dreamlike floating palace from Gojo Satoru’s photos.

The hull was dark—aged. Patches of mottled decay spread across its surface like bark stripped by time. Along the front deck, several dark reddish stains clung stubbornly to the metal, dried and unmistakably old.

And worse than that—

The entire ship reeked of dense, lingering cursed energy.

Maki’s strained expression froze.

Panda’s grin faltered mid-cheer.

Yuta sucked in a sharp breath.

Even Toge forgot about his tie, staring in stunned silence at the so-called “luxury cruise ship.”

“LIAR—!!” Panda and Maki shouted in perfect unison.

The sudden outburst sent the seagulls perched along the railing scattering into the air.

A white-haired figure stood beneath a lamppost nearby, leaning lazily against it.

Gojo Satoru lifted his head. His sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, revealing brilliant cerulean eyes just as they met the students’ furious stares.

Unbothered, he smiled and spread his hands. “Well then, let me explain the mission—”

Before he could finish, Yue lifted her skirt and ran straight toward him.

She stopped in front of him and, without hesitation, reached into his uniform pocket.