New Classmate
After Gojo Satoru left on a mission, the people at Jujutsu High realized that, at some point, Toyama Akira had started wearing bandages over his eyes just like Gojo.
Zen’in Maki and the other students fell silent when they saw him.
“Even if you admire him… did you really have to imitate this too?”
That was Zen’in Maki, her expression complicated.
“Has Toyama-kun already been corrupted by Gojo?”
That was Panda, mulling it over.
“Salmon!”
That was Inumaki, who had no idea what they were talking about.
“Ah… could it be…” For some reason, Okkotsu Yuta thought about it for a while. Then, when Rika leaned over his shoulder, he arrived at his answer with complete seriousness.
“Is this a case of [After you left, I became you]?”
That was the champion of pure love.
Wait, no, why did it sound so weird when he said it out loud?!
The moment Okkotsu Yuta spoke, everyone turned even more silently toward him.
Okkotsu Yuta: ……
“That bastard bandage-wearing teacher only went on a mission. He didn’t die…”
Okkotsu Yuta: ……
“Sorry. I’ve been reading some books Rika recommended lately…”
But when they cautiously, hesitantly, and awkwardly asked the boy why he had suddenly covered his eyes with bandages, all they received was an excessively pure answer.
“Because I need to seal away my forbidden power…”
Everyone at Jujutsu High: ……
“Meeting adjourned. He really is imitating that bastard teacher.”
“Are boys still going through a chuuni phase at this age?”
“Salmon.”
“Inumaki, don’t agree with that! Don’t join them!”
Actually, before Gojo Satoru left Jujutsu High for another mission, he had also fallen silent for a moment when he saw the boy come to borrow bandages to cover his eyes.
Although his reason quickly realized that the boy was trying to block his vision in order to train his spatial perception technique, his emotions still reached his mouth faster than his reason.
“Have you finally realized that my merchandise is better than that bastard Antarctica’s?”
Toyama Akira: ……?
“Huh…?”
“…I’m trying to train my technique so I can fly straight to Antarctica in one go without changing planes…”
Gojo Satoru: ……
Gojo Satoru had really wanted to grab the boy by the ear and shout, “At least become a devoted solo fan of me!” But he was afraid the boy would reply, “Huh? I’m a solo fan of Antarctica,” and say something so heartbreaking that it would give him a heart attack, so he held himself back.
“…If you still haven’t beaten Gojo-sensei by the time I get back, you can forget about going to Antarctica. The Arctic is off-limits too!”
The boy had just awkwardly swept up his bangs and was preparing to wrap the bandages around his eyes: ……
His fingers trembled. His lashes trembled too. He held back tears as he stared at Gojo Satoru’s murderous gaze for a long time without managing to say a single “Okay.”
Gojo Satoru: ……
Not letting you go to Antarctica was apparently as good as taking your life.
And besides, could your second favorite possibly be the Arctic?
……
Gojo Satoru fell silent.
……What about him, then?
It was only after Toyama Akira wrapped the bandages around his eyes that he understood why Gojo Satoru kept the back of his hair short. At first, he had thought Gojo-sensei simply believed it looked cool. Now he realized that hair long enough to brush against the back of his shirt collar made wrapping bandages extremely inconvenient. So he went to borrow a hair tie from Zen’in Maki and tied up the longer hair at the back.
He had only meant to try it out. When he discovered that it really could be tied up, Toyama Akira: ……
Had it really been that long since he last got a haircut?
As far back as he could remember, he had never cared much about the appearance of this body. He would be transported back sooner or later, after all. So he had never bothered with his growing hair or bought new clothes. He wore whatever was available, and whatever Gojo Satoru gave him. He lived with the attitude of, “Whatever. He’s going to die anyway.”
When the students at Jujutsu High saw his new look, they first spent another round grumbling.
“Now who could possibly fail to recognize that he’s Gojo Satoru’s student?”
“Never mind, imitating Gojo is still better than thinking he has forbidden powers.”
“Are there any boys this age who aren’t chuuni? Except Megumi.”
However, after finishing their teasing about the bandages over Toyama Akira’s eyes, everyone noticed something else that was new.
“Toyama looks a lot like a girl this way.”
“Mm-hm… His skin was already pretty pale.”
A shut-in who refused to leave the house because he was afraid of cursed spirits.
“His hair is long too.”
He had decided not to cut it after thinking, [Will I die? I will.]
“And he’s small.”
He had to test his food for poison ten times before eating it, and eventually stopped eating much because it was too much trouble.
Toyama Akira had no idea what they were thinking. After they concluded that he looked [just like a little girl] with his hair tied up, they sank into a strange, obscure silence.
Toyama Akira: ……?
Toyama Akira did not actually care much about that conclusion. As long as nobody said he looked like a cursed spirit or a bug, they could say whatever they wanted. Besides, he was busy with something more important.
Just as Gojo Satoru had guessed, he had covered his eyes with bandages to eliminate the influence of vision on his spatial perception, and train his other senses to perceive space. Ordinary people perceived their surroundings by looking. Only a small number of people could form a detailed image of their surroundings in their minds through sound, the direction of the wind, and minute sensations of touch, even when they could not see. Toyama Akira had read in various texts that some physically gifted jujutsu sorcerers could do this. Someone with a heavenly restriction that maximized their physical abilities could sense everything around them without even looking.
Toyama Akira’s physical abilities, on the other hand, were at an ordinary person’s level. In fact, because he was always worried that his food might contain poison, bugs, or cursed-spirit residue, he was somewhat malnourished as well.
But Toyama Akira’s attention was superhuman. Never underestimate the focus of a coward in the grip of fear. If the shadow of a leaf passed over their hand, they might mistake it for a bug and leap three feet away. His vivid imagination, nerves stretched to their limit, and perfect awareness that everything around him was out to get him had forged Toyama Akira’s superhuman attention and reflexes.
Therefore, Toyama Akira planned to use the heightened attention brought on by the unknown fear of losing his vision to make up for his inadequate physical abilities, and learn to perceive space through means other than sight.
That was why, when Inumaki and the others approached him, the blindfolded boy could not see anything clearly, but still turned toward them at once, guided by the sound of the wind and their footsteps. The muscles in his calves had already tensed. He was moments away from pushing off the ground with the powerful spring of a rabbit’s hind legs and fleeing. But through sheer force of will, and by repeatedly telling himself, [Stop embarrassing yourself], he dug his fingers into his palm and suppressed his instinct to run.
They were only classmates coming over to say hello. There was nothing to be afraid of.
Toyama Akira hoped he could resist the instinct to flee whenever the slightest disturbance reached him after losing his vision, so he kept chanting mental mantras to brainwash himself.
His classmates at Jujutsu High were all very friendly.
Although you could sense the terrifying cursed energy around them… and the aura of cursed tools… they were all good people.
Don’t be afraid. They’re only coming over to say a few words. What could they possibly do to you?
Thus, Toyama Akira bravely raised his head and accurately located the direction from which they were approaching. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing much. We only just noticed that Toyama-kun seems never to have received a new school uniform. The clothes you’re wearing look like you’ve had them for a long time.”
Toyama Akira: ……
Wait, didn’t everyone only have two identical uniforms that they took turns wearing and washing? It wasn’t that he was unclean, it was just…
“This is all Gojo’s fault for being so careless!”
It was Panda’s voice, full of righteous indignation.
“Ah, good thing Inumaki still has a uniform you can borrow!”
“Salmon.”
“…Will that really…”
“It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine. Inumaki and you are about the same size, and he’s worn this one before, so it should fit you just fine.”
There were too many people in front of him. Every time one of them spoke, the sound vibrated through the air and altered the current ever so slightly. Toyama would immediately turn toward the source as if pricked by a needle. But there were simply too many people, and with one voice following another, Toyama Akira became like a big-headed doll that could barely keep its head straight, looking this way and that until his mind was filled with taut, muddled information.
So he nodded vaguely as well. “Okay, thank you, everyone.”
“You’re all such good people.”
Ten minutes later, Toyama Akira was sent off to change into the new uniform.
Inumaki took him there. Along the way, the white-haired boy kept saying various rice-ball ingredients, but Toyama Akira still understood him without difficulty.
“Oh, Inumaki-kun has worn this uniform before too.”
“Hm? You wanted Okkotsu-kun to wear it, but he refused…?”
“Because you were afraid Maki would get angry? Hm? Why?”
“Oh, it’s Zen’in-san’s uniform.”
“Haha, Gojo-sensei wore it too? Is this a uniform passed down through three generations?”
“Though Maki seems a little tall. Will it fit me properly?”
“That’s true. Inumaki-kun, if it fits you, it should probably fit me too.”
Toyama Akira nodded. By the time Inumaki pushed him through the door, they had already chatted all the way through taking off his clothes. He now accepted the uniform Inumaki Toge handed him. Feeling the cut of the garment, which was clearly different from that of a pair of trousers, the black-haired boy with his hair tied up like a girl suddenly fell silent.
“……”
“Was there something wrong just now?”
……
“No, Inumaki-kun, wait. This doesn’t seem right. Wait, don’t…”
“[Put it on].”
He used cursed speech…
Fifteen minutes later, Gojo Satoru, unable to stop worrying about someone at Jujutsu High, called in on a video call.
He looked at his students, who appeared no different from usual.
Zen’in Maki, wearing a mysteriously bright smile. Panda, constantly glancing behind him out of the corner of his eye. Okkotsu Yuta, sighing with his head lowered for some reason. Then Inumaki behind them, and behind Inumaki…
Gojo Satoru: ……
His side hair was tucked behind his ear, exposing a little of his pale earlobe. A small amount of hair at the back had been tied up and brushed against the equally pale side of his neck. His head was lowered, revealing only the tip of a pale chin and a pair of faint-colored lips. His figure was slender, and the legs beneath the school skirt were thin and straight, demurely pressed together.
Gojo Satoru was puzzled. “Is this quiet student the new cla…”
The quiet student raised his head.
His brows and eyes were delicate and soft, undeniably giving him a demure, refined air. He was hazy and harmless, like a distant mountain veiled in mist and rain.
When Gojo Satoru saw those familiar gray-green eyes and that familiar blank stare that said, [Huh? What are you talking about?], Gojo Satoru: ……
Fuck.