Whether it was Gojo Satoru or Getou Suguru, whenever they returned to school, the first thing they saw was always Asou Akiya's smiling face.
He showed them only his brightest side, as warm as sunlight.
He never wanted them to worry.
Asou Akiya had prepared a lavish spread for them: iced milk tea, handmade sushi, perfectly seared wagyu sandwiches, and fresh fruit and vegetable salads for anyone whose appetite was lacking.
Ieiri Shoko, wearing her white lab coat, joined the gathering that was being held on the rooftop late at night.
On the evening of June 23rd, laughter echoed through the boys' dormitory at Tokyo Jujutsu High as the four of them relaxed and enjoyed themselves. The noise left Zen'in Naoya—the only person actually trying to sleep in the boys' dormitory—with a growling stomach. Forced out of bed, he dragged himself up to eat instant food.
While eating, Zen'in Naoya cursed Asou Akiya in his heart and resentfully bombarded his father in Kyoto with messages, demanding an increase in his monthly allowance.
Ever since his June allowance had been confiscated, Zen'in Naoya's life had become utterly miserable.
His meals depended almost entirely on travel stipends from assignments. Tokyo Jujutsu High did pay mission rewards, but the amounts were pitiful, and whatever he earned had to be split with Asou Akiya.
Zen'in Naobito's response was straightforward.
If he never sees it, then it never exists. As long as he wasn't starving to death, it didn't matter.
For a jujutsu sorcerer, there were no major concerns beyond life and death.
Zen'in Naobito knew his youngest son's countless flaws all too well. Idol obsession, deep-seated misogyny, womanizing tendencies—the list went on.
Yet he also possessed one outstanding quality: Pride.
Unless he was truly driven into a corner with nowhere left to turn, he would never come crying to his father.
"Sending Naoya to school has its benefits after all." Back at the Zen'in estate, Zen'in Naobito spoke to one of his trusted subordinates.
"That brat only knows how to enjoy the fruits of other people's labor. He's never learned how to survive independently. Tokyo Jujutsu High doesn't even hesitate to squeeze every last drop out of Gojo Satoru, so there's no chance they'll go easy on Naoya. It's about time he learned how ruthless the jujutsu world really is."
"Master, do you really think Young Master Naoya can endure it for an entire year?" the subordinate asked sincerely.
"I'm not sure myself." Zen'in Naobito stroked his meticulously groomed beard. "If he can last two years, I'll think more highly of him. If he can make it all the way to graduation..."
A meaningful look crossed Zen'in Naobito's face.
"Then it would mean he's truly grown up and matured. If that happens, handing the clan over to him in the future wouldn't be such a bad prospect. At least there'd be someone capable of carrying on the family."
Two months had passed since the Star Plasma Vessel incident.
During that time, Zen'in Naobito's greatest source of pressure had shifted from the Gojo Clan to Gojo Satoru himself.
If Zen'in Naoya could withstand that pressure, then, putting himself in the boy's shoes, Zen'in Naobito would genuinely admire his youngest son's resilience.
As an afterthought, he asked, "Have you found any trace of the child Toji sold to the Zen'in Clan before he died?"
The subordinate shook his head. "We're still investigating. There aren't many leads."
In two months, the Zen'in Clan had managed to compile little more than a list of wealthy women who had kept Zen'in Toji as a lover.
They still had no idea which of those women had borne his child, let alone which child possessed the cursed energy talent that had made Toji consider selling them to the clan.
At the mention of that list, Zen'in Naobito grinned.
"No rush. We'll find them eventually."
Toji was already dead.
As for the talent of the child he had left behind, Zen'in Naobito had no idea.
Still, he found himself looking forward to meeting that child.
After all, it was a child that the "Sorcerer Killer" himself had deemed worthy of being sold to the Zen'in Clan for upbringing.
No matter what, that child had to be more promising than Ogi's pair of twin daughters.
The Zen'in Clan is in a desperate need for some fresh blood!
...
Because he had stolen some of the iced beer Ieiri Shoko had brought for herself, Gojo Satoru was drunk, grinning foolishly from ear to ear.
Dressed in a loose white T-shirt and light-blue athletic shorts, he looked like a refreshing young man straight out of a seaside postcard.
His behavior, however, made him look as if he had taken something far stronger than alcohol.
His face was flushed from drink. The Six Eyes were hazy and unfocused, while a faint blush colored his cheeks, lending him an air of excited exhilaration.
"How come Gojo hasn't passed out?"
"Has Satoru's alcohol tolerance improved?"
"No way. It's probably the Reverse Cursed Technique. It sobers him up a little, then he gets drunk again."
The three of them whispered among themselves as Asou Akiya speculated about how Gojo Satoru was still managing to sit upright without collapsing.
The moment they finished speaking, Gojo Satoru's eyes rolled back, and he crumpled limply.
"So dizzy... Everything's doubled..."
With overlapping afterimages filling his vision from every angle, the all-seeing perspective of the Six Eyes had finally become too much for him to handle.
Like an oversized drunken cat, Gojo Satoru toppled heavily onto Getou Suguru.
Caught completely off guard, Getou Suguru winced as his shoulder took the impact.
"Satoru!" Getou Suguru protested. "You really only know how to bully me, don't you? Why didn't you fall on Akiya instead?"
Gojo Satoru smacked his lips, his head spinning as he savored the lingering sharpness of the iced beer on his tongue.
"Suguru... I want more. This is the first time I've actually remembered what alcohol tastes like..."
The Reverse Cursed Technique had allowed Gojo Satoru to experience the perfect state of pleasant intoxication.
The gentle summer breeze, the friends he trusted completely, and the school beneath the starry sky, endlessly turning and revolving like a giant kaleidoscope.
"He's practically a child." Asou Akiya handed over a tissue and wiped the saliva from the corner of Gojo Satoru's mouth before it could smear Getou Suguru's clothes.
Getou Suguru was speechless. So all those previous times he'd simply passed out before he could even remember what drinking felt like?
Ieiri Shoko protectively gathered up her remaining beer. "No!"
Then she warned the other two. "Don't go giving in every time he acts spoiled."
Asou Akiya and Getou Suguru shook their heads in unison.
Absolutely not.
There would be no more alcohol for Gojo Satoru. Letting him drink was a complete waste of good beer.
Unlike Gojo Satoru, who didn't understand how to appreciate alcohol, the remaining three took their time, eating until they were full while talking about their busy lives.
Getou Suguru never mentioned the difficulty of swallowing cursed spirit orbs.
Ieiri Shoko never spoke of the exhaustion, numbness, and emotional toll that came with handling corpses.
Asou Akiya understood their hardships.
In his own way, he quietly protected the hearts of his friends.
"You're actually doing pretty well?" Ieiri Shoko asked Asou Akiya in surprise.
"No way. Are you telling me Akiya's the one best suited for working?" Getou Suguru looked utterly drained.
"Not at all, I refuse to become a corporate drone."
Asou Akiya raised a hand in protest.
"I'm just good at finding little bits of happiness in busy work. That way, I don't end up turning into a numb labor machine."
Teaching Zen'in Naoya how to drive.
Taking Fushiguro Megumi on trips
Planning mission routes for Gojo Satoru.
Asou Akiya could always find enjoyment in the monotony of daily life. Every action he took was another step toward changing the future.
When Ieiri Shoko complained about being unable to find any joy in life lately, Getou Suguru joined in, bringing up the hardships of his own miserable summer.
No appetite.
No energy.
And the harder he worked, the more unbearable everything became.
Asou Akiya listened quietly.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the thoroughly drunk Gojo Satoru sprawled nearby.
"You're all drunk."
So, I'm willing to be a dumping ground for your souls.
...
Back at the boys' dormitory, Asou Akiya and Getou Suguru carried Gojo Satoru back to his room.
One, two—
They tossed him onto the bed.
The mattress frame let out a loud thump, and the spring-loaded mattress bounced the white-haired boy twice.
Asou Akiya immediately stepped forward and stood beside the bed, afraid that Gojo Satoru might roll off.
"Pfft." Getou Suguru laughed.
Leaning against the wall, he staggered toward the door. "I'm done dealing with that drunk."
Asou Akiya turned around and called after him. "If you're feeling sick, go throw up."
Getou Suguru, who is the kind of person who would rather suffer than lose face—straightened up and declared, "I'm a heavyweight drinker."
"Wait a minute!" Asou Akiya called out.
Asou Akiya rummaged through Gojo Satoru's room and found the hangover medicine he had stocked there long ago. He stuffed it into Getou Suguru's hand, then fetched an unopened bottle of room-temperature mineral water.
Unscrewing the cap, he watched until Getou Suguru drank it himself.
"You probably won't bother taking care of yourself once you get back. Don't drink anything cold. Take the medicine and go to sleep. You can wait until tomorrow morning to shower."
Getou Suguru looked completely out of it. Only after being fed the medicine by his friend did his stomach begin to feel a little better.
Rubbing his forehead, he asked, "Akiya, how come you're completely fine?"
Asou Akiya put on a mysterious expression. "What do you think? Maybe there's a cursed spirit living in my stomach that can drink alcohol."
Getou Suguru laughed. "No way. You're joking again."
Seeing Getou Suguru leaning against him, Asou Akiya gave him a shove. "Get moving."
Getou Suguru narrowed his eyes, looking overwhelmed by drowsiness. His gaze drifted toward Gojo Satoru, who was lying unconscious on the bed.
"You're not planning to stay up all night taking care of Satoru, are you? If you're staying with him, then I'm staying too."
Asou Akiya's expression immediately turned cold.
"Go to sleep. If you're drunk and your stomach hurts, don't expect anyone to feel sorry for you."
Did Getou Suguru really think he was easy to push around just because he rarely lost his temper?
Oddly enough, being scolded cleared Getou Suguru's head considerably.
He retreated in defeat and stopped causing trouble.
Once the room was quiet again, only a faint smell of alcohol lingered in the air.
Asou Akiya turned on the air conditioner's ventilation mode to circulate fresh air, drew the curtains closed, and returned to the bedside.
Gojo Satoru was sleeping soundly, hugging a pillow.
Asou Akiya sat quietly beside the bed and watched him for a while.
Then he removed the crooked sunglasses from Gojo Satoru's face. The frame had left red marks across the bridge of his nose.
Reaching out, he gently pinched and massaged Gojo Satoru's nose to restore circulation.
He pinched Gojo Satoru's nose and gave it a little massage to stimulate circulation.
The other man let out a soft, muffled hum.
With those round sunglasses no longer sealing away his looks, his face returned to its perfect state.
At sixteen, Gojo Satoru looked as though he had been made from sugar, honey, and cream, carrying the faint sweetness of someone pleasantly intoxicated.
Asou Akiya could no longer see the aloofness that usually kept others at a distance. Warm, moist breaths curled around his fingertips. Gojo Satoru lay defenseless before him, limbs sunk into the large bed. The white T-shirt, the finely shaped collarbones—there was an innocent purity to him, touched by the slightest hint of temptation.
Asou Akiya straightened his clothes and felt a trace of sweat beneath his fingertips. He was probably the type who couldn't handle alcohol well.
He thought Gojo Satoru had most likely fallen asleep, though he wasn't entirely certain. Lowering his voice, he deliberately cast out some bait.
"Gojo, Suguru's gone back to the dorm. Do you want me to stay and sleep here with you tonight?"
Gojo Satoru kept his eyes tightly shut. His frost-white eyelashes did not flutter. His sleeping face was utterly innocent, as if he had melted into a long, liquid cat sprawled across the bed.
How adorable.
He's cold and distant while working, yet willing to expose his soft belly when resting.
Asou Akiya found himself smiling unconsciously. He reached out and teased Gojo Satoru's eyelashes. They brushed against his fingertips like the wings of a butterfly. Realizing he had accidentally started thinking of him as a cat, he apologized inwardly.
Looks like the alcohol had gotten to his head too.
"Wake up. Turn your Limitless technique back on." Asou Akiya urged him gently, uneasy about leaving him asleep alone in the dorm like this.
After all, there is an unreliable rainbow pig around here!
"You're sleeping this deeply?"
Asou Akiya wasn't entirely convinced, but Gojo Satoru remained completely motionless, lying there in a hopelessly vulnerable state, allowing himself to be handled however one pleased.
Beneath his light-blue shorts, his legs were wrapped around the blanket.
"Great, then it's time to take some embarrassing photos of you."
The moment Asou Akiya pulled out his phone with ill intent, it was violently smacked out of his hand and sent flying across the room.
A vicious Gojo Satoru—whose attempt to fake sleep had just failed—was officially online.
...
Ring—ring—ring—
Early the next morning, a phone call shattered the peace and disturbed the two people in bed. Still half-asleep, Asou Akiya fumbled around, unable to find his phone.
Beside him, Gojo Satoru let out an irritated groan.
"So noisy."
All he wanted was a comfortable night's sleep!
He tugged the blanket down from over his eyes and opened a pair of icy blue eyes. Using Blue, he pulled back the phone he had thrown far away the previous night. The Nokia proved impressively durable, surviving the impact without the slightest problem.
Gojo Satoru promptly shoved the cursed thing into Asou Akiya's face. "It's your call! I've already turned mine off. Even if there's a mission, don't come looking for me!"
Then he rolled over, turning his back to Asou Akiya and going right back to sleep. He had no interest in taking on any missions today. He just wanted to give himself half a day off.
A third of Asou Akiya's drowsiness vanished.
"Hello?"
A woman's unfamiliar voice answered from the other end. She sounded like a staff member from Tokyo Jujutsu High.
"Asou-san, you have a letter that arrived last month. Please come collect it as soon as possible."
Confusion filled Asou Akiya's voice.
"A letter? Are you sure I'm the recipient?"
He had no acquaintances outside the school. After he stopped writing novels, he had cut off contact with ordinary society entirely. No one had ever sent him a letter.
On the other end of the line, the staff member seemed to be examining the writing on the envelope. The faint rustle of paper came through before she spoke.
"It appears to be a scheduled delivery. The designated delivery date was May 1, 2006. The recipient is Asou Akiya, second-year student at Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College."
May 1, 2006...
What was going on? Why would someone specifically choose May 1 to send a letter?
Asou Akiya's eyes snapped open.
The date, one that had once been burned deeply into his memory, sent a cold sweat breaking out across his body.
—
TL Note:
Holy shit, something catastrophic almost happened. So, the Google Doc for the translation got corrupted for some reason, and I couldn't open it. But thankfully, I managed to bypass it by sharing access with my other account and accessing it through there. Like, I have no idea why it happened. I almost crashed out, ong.
This day has been so horrible, I want to cry. (╥﹏╥)