"Yo, Satoru. You're back."
Nearly a month had passed since Hasegumo first took over as the substitute teacher for the first-years.
He was hoping Toge Inumaki would eventually join the Shingen-ryu Dojo to further his studies, which meant Hasegumo inevitably had to carve out time for martial arts instruction. He was currently on his way to the Principal's office to discuss the upcoming schedule with Yaga.
Upon entering, the first thing he saw was Satoru Gojo, his eyes wrapped in white bandages, sitting across from Yaga and playing a game of Go.
"If I stayed away any longer, someone might have made off with my precious students."
"Yaga-sensei, looks like you've lost." Satoru casually placed a white stone on the board. Just as he was about to capture his opponent's pieces, Yaga stood up abruptly.
"You've arrived at the perfect time, Gumo." Masamichi Yaga's skill at the game was clearly lacking; a single round had already left him breaking a sweat. He was more than happy to grab a replacement to take the brunt of Satoru's bullying. "I have other matters to attend to. You two can finish the game."
"You just don't want to lose to your own student. It's embarrassing, isn't it?" Hasegumo deadpanned as he took the seat opposite Satoru. "Now that you're back, are you taking the lead again?"
"Of course."
"Then I'd like to pull Inumaki-kun aside for a portion of every afternoon to train in martial arts. That's fine, right?" Hasegumo had intended to ask Yaga, but since the actual homeroom teacher was here, it was more appropriate to clear it with Satoru. "I feel like the way he uses his Cursed Technique has gone slightly off-track. I'm surprised you didn't notice."
"Off-track? I barely had a chance to teach him before I was shipped off to Hawaii to exorcise a mountain of curses." Satoru gave his hand a light wave, and the jumbled stones on the board instantly sorted themselves into two distinct piles of black and white. "You've taken an interest in Toge? Cursed Speech is a technique passed down through his clan for generations. Is there really something special about it?"
"Shindigunken—the 'Heart's Drop, Fist's Zenith.' It's a state very few martial artists ever reach." Hasegumo's answer seemed to dodge the question as he swept the black stones into his bowl, idly weighing one in his hand. "Based on the principles of his technique and the way martial arts develops the brain, the two combined... well, I think he has a genuine shot at surpassing even you."
"Surpassing me... now that sounds exciting. Though, Yaga-sensei did mention a boy named Yuta Okkotsu who seems to have immense potential. Apparently, he's a distant relative of mine." Satoru began to unwrap the bandages from his eyes. His cerulean Six Eyes shimmered with a rare, serious intensity. "You want to tutor my student privately? Beat me at this game, and you can arrange things however you like."
As they chatted and prepared to play, Satoru watched Hasegumo's opening move. He placed his stone directly on the Tianyuan—the center point of the board. Satoru fell silent, his mind racing.
Is he hinting at something, or is he just looking down on me?
Even with the advantage of moving first as Black, there are still Komi rules to balance the points. I'm confident I won't lose.
Satoru's lips curled into a smirk. Following his usual style, he moved to occupy the Xingwei, the star points.
The two stopped talking, their hands moving in a blur as they placed stones.
However, after a mere four moves...
"You lose, Satoru." Hasegumo leaned back in his chair. "I told you, the way you and Yaga were playing was just two amateurs pecking at each other."
"?" Satoru rubbed his eyes as if unable to accept such a swift defeat. He stared down at the board.
"Are you playing Gomoku?"
"What else would I be playing?"
"This is a game of Go, you idiot!"
"My name is Yuta Okkotsu. I'm sixteen years old."
"My hobby is reading alone."
"Because I have a weak personality and a thin frame, I was often bullied at school."
"The person I loved most was Rika Orimoto. But after she died in a car accident, she turned into a curse and haunted me."
"I call it a curse, but really, she's just protecting me. I understand that now, Rika."
"You must have been worried that I couldn't survive on my own."
"Thanks to you, I found Jujutsu High. I learned how to use 'Cursed Energy'—it's the kind of thing that can turn a person into a superhuman."
"If a guy who gets bullied every day suddenly gains superpowers, he'd probably try to take revenge on society. That's what people think, right?"
"But now that I have this chance, I only want to use it to protect people who are as weak as I used to be."
In just one month, Yuta had not only gained a solid understanding of cursed energy and sorcerers, but he also believed he had the resolve to step into this world.
In a sense, the old-school teaching model had its merits: first, it gave the student time to learn and improve; second, it provided ample time for psychological preparation.
But then again, who can truly see into their own heart until they are balanced on the edge of life and death?
...
"Emerge from darkness, blacker than black. Purify that which is impure."
Satoru Gojo, having resumed his duties with the first-years, wasted no time in assigning Yuta—the only one without field experience—to a mission.
"Is this really okay, Gojo-sensei...?" Yuta gripped the hilt of his katana, a sense of unreality washing over him. Just yesterday, he was happily studying with his classmates; this morning, a man in a blindfold claiming to be his "actual" homeroom teacher appeared, handed him a sword, and sent him off to the front lines.
"Just do it with confidence." The "blindfolded jerk," as Maki called him, simply flashed a thumbs-up. "Believe in yourself. You're the man with the best chance of surpassing us to become the strongest."
"Oh, right." As Satoru turned to walk out of the Curtain, he looked back at Yuta one last time. "Consider this an evaluation for both you and Rika. Regardless of whether you exorcise the curse or save the people inside, if Rika manifests fully, the mission counts as a failure."
"And if you fail, the Higher-Ups will re-evaluate your situation. If they decide you aren't fit to be a sorcerer, then..." He made a slicing motion across his throat. "You get the idea."
Yuta's head snapped up in shock. He couldn't believe such freezing words could come from a person made of warm flesh and blood. He shouted at the man's retreating back, "Isn't a sorcerer's mission to exorcise curses and protect people?!"
But he only saw a silhouette gradually obscured by the descending Curtain. Satoru didn't give so much as a glance back.
"You've got to be kidding..." Aside from a few stitched-together cursed spirits, there was no other sign of life.
Left alone in this oppressive gloom without another sorcerer in sight, the walls of Yuta's fragile heart were instantly pierced by a surge of terror. Can I really do this?
A slow flow of cursed energy began to leak from his body, coating the cursed tool in his hand. It was Rika, supporting him in silence.
"Believe in yourself." It was as if he could hear Rika answering him. Yuta steeled his nerves, gave himself a silent pep talk, and charged forward, swinging his blade.
A vertical cleave. A reverse horizontal slash.
Two simple strikes, and the horrifying, stitched-together curse before him dissolved into ash.
"I did it!" The weakness of the enemy left Yuta in disbelief. Was he really this strong?
"No... it's Rika's presence that makes me this powerful..." He sheathed his sword, feeling no sense of pride. He simply felt the enemy was weak—far weaker than the sparring sessions he'd had with Maki-san.
With slightly trembling steps, he headed upstairs. There might be civilians there. I have to save them. With this power, I can do it...
"Can he handle it on his own?"
Hasegumo actually cared quite a bit about the boy's progress. He hadn't appeared directly in front of Yuta, however; he waited until Satoru stepped out of the Curtain before striking up a conversation.
"You haven't become a lapdog for the Higher-Ups, have you? Trying to get the kid killed?" It was a joke, of course. He knew exactly what kind of man Satoru was. Even if Satoru truly intended to kill Yuta, he would never use such a petty, underhanded scheme.
"Wouldn't it be eye-popping if he took down a Grade 1 on his first mission?" Satoru sat on the hood of a car, speaking nonchalantly. "Besides, with the two of us out here, there's no way he's actually going to die."
"I heard everything you said, you know. Threatening to kill him if he fails the mission." Hasegumo wasn't trying to eavesdrop; his heightened senses simply forced the conversation into his brain. "So, what did you actually say to those old farts the other day? I heard the windows on the sixth floor were smashed."
"You could hear that from that far away?" Satoru noted that he'd have to be even more careful with his "private" conversations in the future. "Those old fossils wanted me to execute Yuta. I told them that if they insisted, every Special Grade would side with the boy. That shut them up."
"Haha, true enough. All the Special Grades are our people. What are those old men going to do against us?"
Returning to the original topic, Hasegumo had gained a fair understanding of Yuta's situation over the past month. The boy was physically frail—the complete opposite of Hasegumo's own build.
Satoru was actually quite similar to Yuta in that regard; he relied on precise cursed energy manipulation to dominate in close quarters.
Under these circumstances, Yuta Okkotsu currently lacked the strength to defeat a Grade 1 curse on his own. Hasegumo, however, had guessed Satoru's intention. "In the end, you're going to force Rika to act. You're just trying to put some pressure on him?"
"Exactly. But it's more than that." Satoru reached up and brushed his hair back from his forehead. "Just like Suguru was in the past... being born too powerful makes it difficult to truly experience the crisis between life and death."
"You can see Yuta's potential as well as I can. If he just follows the curriculum and completes missions, he will inevitably become a Special Grade."
"But... that kind of strength is hollow."
"A person without a firm will of their own... the moment they face someone stronger, they'll be seen through instantly."
Satoru hadn't spent these years in vain. Beyond developing his own abilities to an absurd degree, he had also cultivated his own philosophy on mentoring the next generation. In many ways, he had become a more qualified teacher than even Masamichi Yaga.
"So, while he's still young and hasn't fully grown, I have to find a way to make him truly recognize what's in his heart."
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