The Terror Research Vessel
What was Toyama Akira thinking during those thirty seconds before he lost consciousness?
Was he worried that [being too afraid would make him lose consciousness, go berserk, and hurt Fushiguro Megumi]?
Or was he terrified by the thought, [No way. If I injure an ally, then when a cursed spirit shows up, I’ll be the next one to go, won’t I?]?
Of course it was…
Both!
His first concern gradually transformed into the increasingly intense fear of the second.
Toyama Akira already knew that he sometimes lost control when his fear became too intense. But this sort of separation from his own consciousness could also be considered a self-protection mechanism. The human body naturally avoided all excessively intense emotions, whether sorrow, pleasure, or fear. So it was perfectly natural for Toyama Akira to detach his consciousness when he became too frightened, allowing himself to avoid facing that fear.
Toyama Akira was not quite sure what the voice deep inside him was. The system? A second personality? Some kind of mechanism?
All he knew was that whenever his fear reached a certain extreme, that voice would sound in the depths of his mind. And whenever he heard [fear level reached…], it meant he had no choice but to, absolutely had to, vent that fear.
It was like a reservoir of floodwater reaching its critical limit. The floodgates had to be opened, and once released, the raging water would destroy everything around it.
When Maki attacked him right after he first entered Jujutsu High and that voice sounded in his mind, his fear level had not been very high. He had still possessed a little reason, and simply throwing the cursed tool back had exhausted the fear level.
And the time Gojo Satoru released cockroaches, er, cursed spirits, and forced him to exorcise them, by the time he had pierced through all the cursed spirits, his fear level had more or less been depleted as well.
But this time, Toyama Akira had clearly heard the voice in his mind. He also clearly knew that he had shredded all of Fushiguro Megumi’s shikigami. The only source of fear nearby, the only thing he could attack, was the sea-urchin-headed boy.
So Toyama Akira’s remaining shred of reason kept screaming from behind, like a frail owner trying to hold back a runaway husky:
[Don’t attack Fushiguro-kun!!!]
If Gojo Satoru had been there, he might have been gratified to see the boy develop such a strong bond with his classmate in such a short time. Then, about a minute later, he would probably have realized that this was Toyama Akira, not a normal person, and suspiciously discarded that thought. He would not know why he was discarding it, but since this was Toyama Akira, he might as well. This boy could not be viewed normally!
But as Gojo Satoru had imagined, Toyama Akira was desperately holding back his husky, no, his fear, because…
[Fushiguro-kun is a human being!!!]
[And he clearly looks like the responsible type, the kind of incredible companion who’ll say, “Stay back. I’ll handle this,” when a terrifying enemy appears. He’s the first person I’ve met who can stand in front and let me hide behind him, so how could I attack him? How is that any different from those doomed protagonists in horror movies who insist on fighting among themselves and end up dying even faster?]
And so Toyama Akira desperately pulled on the reins of his reason, unwilling to let fear completely take control of his mind and make him [vent] it under the direction of that strange voice. Toyama Akira knew that the release would be indiscriminate, with no distinction between friend and foe.
But the harder he tried to calm down, the more he…
[Ahhh, am I really going to get rid of Fushiguro-kun? Waaaah, what will I do if he’s gone? Who else will stand in front of me?]
[In horror movies, once all the companions are dead, the protagonist is next. So I have to keep as many companions alive as possible, but waaaah…]
[Calm down! Don’t be afraid! Don’t get even more afraid just because you thought of that! Hold it, ugh… I can’t hold it back at all.]
…Fear.
So although reason told him to stay calm, not be afraid, and keep away from Fushiguro-kun so he would not hurt him unconsciously, it was like someone standing on a land mine, slowly, quietly, and cautiously lifting his foot away from the explosive.
Slowly,
carefully,
calmly…
Toyama Akira bolted to Antarctica.
During the time he was out of his mind, Toyama Akira was left with only one instinct: [run away].
Run somewhere safe.
At that moment, the only thing capable of surfacing in his fear-filled mind was the one he yearned for day and night, the one that haunted his dreams and thoughts, his white moonlight.
It was a pity that although Gojo-sensei had constantly tried to brainwash the boy into believing that he was the strongest, attempting to become the white moonlight, the safe haven in the boy’s heart, Toyama Akira still had not believed that he was the strongest.
Toyama Akira: …Someone who can’t dodge me nine times out of ten whenever I cling to his leg is supposed to be the strongest…? He can’t even kick away or shake off trash like me…
The black-haired boy silently lowered his gray-green eyes and muttered, “…He’s so useless.”
“Just like me…”
Fortunately, Gojo Satoru knew nothing of the thoughts the boy had entertained during that period of the past. Even if he had known, it would not have mattered, because at present he could only manage to dodge the boy twice out of ten times when Toyama Akira clung to his leg.
So there was only one place that served as the boy’s white moonlight.
Antarctica…
Antarctica, the place he yearned for day and night…
Outer space would have been nice too. But since Toyama Akira already believed in horror movies, he certainly seemed like the sort of person who would believe in Mayan prophecies and aliens with bizarre appearances living in space.
So Antarctica was still the best choice. The Arctic was too close. Antarctica was farther away, less inhabited, and more likely to freeze him to death. Maybe it could even freeze his soul along with him.
And so, even though fear had taken over Toyama Akira’s consciousness and left him with nothing but his subconscious mind, he still remembered to snatch the pamphlet and charge along the route he had already mapped out in his head, straight toward the pier where the Antarctic research and sightseeing ship was docked.
He boarded at top speed, stowed away at top speed, left the country at top speed, was caught at top speed, and escaped back at top speed.
The entire process took less than four hours.
The boy had experienced enough thrills to write another The Castaway Diary of Toyama-son, yet somehow managed to finish the whole adventure in under four hours.
He even brought back a full set of local souvenirs.
A strip from a mop on his shoulder, clothes shredded by crabs, a squid on his head that he thought was seaweed and therefore had not yet started fearing, and actual seaweed in his hand.
Gojo Satoru stared at the boy in front of him, who looked more bedraggled than someone returning from begging for alms: …
Fushiguro Megumi, who had nearly believed Gojo Satoru’s nonsense just now and consequently begun questioning his own sanity: …
The two of them maintained an extraordinarily subtle silence.
An atmosphere of awkwardness, confusion, and extreme awkwardness filled the room.
Only the boy who was most out of place and who should have been the most embarrassed felt no embarrassment whatsoever. By the time the boy had crawled over, looking puzzled and bewildered, and picked up the fragments of his desk in an attempt to piece it back together, Gojo Satoru finally spoke. He coughed twice without meaning to and turned his head away, refusing to look at the boy by his feet, who was still assembling the remains of his only desk.
“…So, what exactly happened?”
“That’s a long story…”
“Then make it short.”
As he took the boy to the public bathhouse to get cleaned up, Gojo Satoru walked along while holding him by the collar of his tattered clothes with evident distaste. After learning that Gojo Satoru would first take Toyama Akira to clean himself up, Fushiguro Megumi had looked at them with a subtle, complicated expression, then left while maintaining a silence so subtle and complicated that it made one’s skin crawl. Toyama Akira, meanwhile, had overused his cursed technique. More specifically, he had directly followed the research ship from the Sea of Japan all the way to the Pacific Ocean, teleporting the entire way, and that trip had nearly depleted his remaining 35% fear level. As a result, the boy had finally entered a state of unusual emotional stability and good mental health.
It was probably like someone who had stayed up for several nights finally getting a good, deep sleep and waking up refreshed, thinking, “I can totally do this. Staying up late is nothing.”
So when Gojo Satoru said that, Toyama Akira even dared to grin and argue back. “I was just politely giving my teacher an out and hinting that I didn’t want to talk about it.”
Gojo Satoru: …
And he even said it in that playful tone.
It made him want to hit someone.
When Gojo Satoru reached the bathing pool and let go, the boy in his hand went “plop” as he fell into the water.
Before the boy had time to be afraid of the sudden splash, he saw the squid floating up from his head and immediately teleported frantically around the bathing pool thirty times. Three minutes later, the boy sat soaking in the pool, his wet black hair drooping together with its owner’s head. “…I was wrong.”
Gojo Satoru had only intended to scare the boy a little and teach him not to get cocky. Instead, he watched as the boy became entangled with the squid and nearly amputated himself on the spot.
Gojo Satoru: …
Fine.
No matter how disastrously wrong the process had gone, at least Gojo-sensei had guided his problem student toward the correct conclusion: Toyama Akira had calmed down. He was now relentlessly rubbing the arm that had just been wrapped in the squid’s soft, slimy, dripping tentacles.
The boy looked up, his brows and eyes glistening with water, pure and clear. “Maybe I should still amputate it.”
Gojo Satoru’s heart had long since been trained into a state of complete emotional numbness. Prepared for this, he smiled brightly. “Then I’ll call a squid cursed spirit to amputate it for you, Akira.”
“So, what happened before was like this. I’ll try to explain it to Gojo-sensei as briefly as possible.”
Watching the boy’s expression change abruptly, Gojo Satoru lowered his head and returned to normal.
…Heh.
Nice try.
Toyama Akira recounted his battle with Fushiguro Megumi to Gojo Satoru in full. As for the voice mentioning the [fear level] afterward, Toyama Akira thought about it and merely summarized it by saying that he had become too frightened to control his cursed technique and had teleported away.
He felt that the entire matter of the [fear level] voice was very complicated. He had not figured it out himself yet, so there was no way he could explain it briefly. But if he did not keep it brief, Gojo Satoru would call a squid cursed spirit to amputate him, so he decided not to talk about it.
Gojo Satoru listened to the boy’s explanation: …
No matter how he looked at it, the idea that his cursed technique had gone berserk because he was [too afraid] was just too…
But Gojo Satoru was no longer the same Gojo Satoru he had been a few months ago. He had already become the Toyama Akira high-fidelity Pro Plus edition of Gojo Satoru.
So he merely hummed in a deep, steady voice.
“Continue.”
And so he did not hear the boy’s muttered thoughts as he lowered his head. “So easy to fool. And this guy is supposed to be the strongest? Antarctica really is the strongest…”
As for what happened afterward, the short version was that the people aboard the research ship discovered Toyama Akira stowing away and threw him off.
As mentioned earlier, Toyama Akira’s cursed technique required him to know the route in advance and preset the path in his mind. So although Toyama Akira could research beforehand and memorize the route for sneaking aboard the ship, he had never been to Antarctica. He could only board the ship and follow along.
Once he was aboard, Toyama Akira’s fear had actually been more or less depleted. To put it nicely, he had calmed down. To put it less nicely, he was no longer afraid, so he was not as smooth with his cursed technique.
However, Toyama Akira was still very good at predicting things!
The moment the cleaning lady who spotted him raised her hand, he knew she was definitely going to grab the mop beside her and hit him with it…! So he teleported over first and snatched the mop away. Then he stepped onto the floor the cleaning lady had just mopped, slipped, and slammed into the mop head.
The cleaning lady, who had witnessed the entire thing: …
Still, Toyama Akira was very good at predicting things. He knew that after seeing him fall, the cleaning lady would definitely call security, have them catch him as a stowaway, and throw him off the ship!
He was not stupid. He knew these things. He had watched plenty of UC and Qianjia films. This was international waters! Lots of people had died here. If he was caught, he would definitely be thrown overboard to feed the sharks. That was what all the gang leaders in gangster movies said.
Gojo Satoru, listening to the boy get this far: …
Wasn’t this supposed to be a horror movie? Why had it suddenly turned into a gangster movie?
Could it be that you’re afraid of gangster movies too? Oh, sorry. I should not have used the phrase [could it be].
And so Toyama Akira decisively teleported away again. After that, he teleported into the kitchen to hide, tripped, and fell into a tank full of seafood. He hid in a room, only to have his clothes caught on the doorknob, leaving him hanging in midair and nearly unable to get down. Finally, when he was in an utterly miserable state, a passenger spotted him and took out a tissue, intending to wipe him clean.
Toyama Akira: …
I know. He definitely has a supernatural ability that kills anyone who touches him!
Gojo Satoru: …
This is a world of jujutsu, so stop switching genres!
And do you have persecutory delusions or something? You only stowed away on a ship. How could you be this guilty?
You’re a jujutsu sorcerer. For once, be…
“Who would have thought that a research ship full of nothing but ordinary people could be so terrifying?”
Gojo Satoru: …
…a little bolder.