Monday, the first break right after the weekend.
Mamoru went to the Class D classroom all by himself.
His goal: meet a certain person and talk to them.
‘Still, not knowing what they look like is a real pain.’ Unlike the long lunch break, the short interval between classes meant almost every student was likely still in their classroom.
The problem was that Mamoru had no idea what the person looked like.
‘It would’ve been so much easier to bring someone along, but then Arisu might catch wind of it.’ Someone like Kamuro or Hashimoto probably knew what his target looked like, but Mamoru wasn’t particularly keen on letting Arisu find out what he was up to.
Peeking inside the classroom, Mamoru scanned the area and singled out a few students who looked friendly and easy to approach.
Just then, as if on cue, one of them stepped out of the classroom, likely heading for the restroom.
Mamoru immediately closed the distance and called out.
“Excuse me, do you have a moment?” “Ah, um…
you’re Gojo-kun from Class A, right?” When he spoke, the student seemed to recognize him instantly.
Even though he had no idea who the other guy was, the guy knew him.
Mamoru felt a small sense of resignation over how accustomed he had become to this lately.
“Ah, yeah.
That’s me.
Actually, I have some business with either Hirata-kun or Kushida-san from Class D.
I’m sorry to bother you, but could you call one of them out for me?
It might sound selfish, but I’d prefer not to draw too much attention.” Hearing this, the student looked slightly bewildered, but he quickly put on a friendly smile and spoke up.
“Huh?
If you’re looking for Hirata, that’s me—Yosuke Hirata.
Nice to meet you.” It turned out the guy he had just called out was none other than the very man himself.
Handling a sudden interruption without showing a hint of displeasure and responding so cordially—it clearly demonstrated a remarkably high level of social competence.
“Um, what did you need me for?
If necessary, should I go call Kushida-san as well?” “No, just you is fine.
I only wanted to hand this over.” As he spoke, Mamoru pulled a letter from his pocket and offered it to Hirata.
“What is this?” Hirata asked inquisitively as he accepted the letter.
“I summarized the main points in there.
If possible, I’d like you to read it alone.
Tomorrow after school, I’ll be waiting on the rooftop until 5 o’clock.
Give it a read, and if it sparks your interest, I hope you’ll come.” An approach from a Class A student.
It was a situation where harboring suspicion would be the natural reaction, but Hirata—perhaps trying not to make the other person uncomfortable—didn’t let any distrust show on his face.
“Haha…
put like that, it almost sounds like a love letter.” Instead, he made a light joke to gloss over the underlying doubt.
“You can rest assured.
I don’t lean that way.” It was just a lighthearted joke meant to ease the tension.
Understanding that, Mamoru didn’t take any offense either.
“If you’re not interested, you’re free to ignore it.
Sorry for taking up your time.” Staying too long and being seen by other students would only cause trouble.
Having said what he needed to say, Mamoru turned around immediately.
“Ah, sure.
See you around, Gojo-kun.” Hirata surely had plenty of questions, but he likely realized he couldn’t get answers to all of them during a short break.
Though still bewildered, he managed to reply with just that.
‘So he’s the one in Class D…’ As he walked away, Mamoru pondered over the impression Hirata had left on him.
Judging from their short exchange, he didn’t detect any major character flaws.
If anything, he came across as a serious, well-mannered, and agreeable young man.
For someone like that to be in Class D…
either he was exceptionally poor at academics, or he had caused some kind of serious trouble in the past.
‘If it’s the latter, that might be a bit troublesome…’ If the central figure of a class is capable yet harbors a critical, underlying issue, it meant the class could potentially shatter into pieces in an instant under the right circumstances.
‘Well, whatever happens, happens.
I can’t possibly look after them to that extent.’ Mamoru let out a sigh as he recalled the conversation he had with Fuka two days ago.
“Handing over past exam papers to Class D?” “That’s right.” Fuka frowned in skepticism, but Mamoru simply gave a short, firm nod.
Rather than immediately questioning his answer, Fuka fell silent for a moment, letting out a thoughtful “Hmm.” “…So, you’re not giving them away as leverage for a transaction?” “Well, initially I plan to ask for a high amount of points, but depending on how the conversation goes, I wouldn’t mind giving them away for free.” “Doesn’t sound like it has anything to do with the class competition.
Which means, from the perspective of a Jujutsu Sorcerer, you simply can’t leave current Class D unattended?” “Spot on, pretty much.
Fuka-san, do you happen to know what’s going on with current 1-D?” “Ah, yes.
There are rumors circulating even among the second and third years.
The Class A that recorded the highest initial evaluation in history, versus the Class D that recorded the lowest.
I see—since negative emotions run the risk of birthing cursed spirits, the current state of Class D is far from ideal.” Talking with Fuka was effortless; she caught on naturally without needing every detail spelled out.
‘If only she didn’t tease people all the time.’ “Well, that’s the gist of it.
Though it’s not like I want to fix their situation myself.
Given how this school’s system works, temporarily improving their condition won’t mean a thing in the long run.” “True.
Then, what is your actual goal?” “If I had to say, it’s a matter of mindset.
Lending a hand every single time an exam comes around would be a never-ending chore.
What I want to confirm is whether Class D possesses the strength to stand on their own feet.
If they don’t, then it just means I’ll raise my level of alertness regarding them.” If Class D’s dismal situation persisted, there was a high chance it would turn into a breeding ground for curses—either spawning dynamic cursed spirits or attracting existing ones.
Even so, even if Mamoru stepped in to help them pass every single exam, it wouldn’t solve the fundamental problem.
The ones who could actually fix it weren’t outsiders like him, but the people inside that class.
“In short, your goal is to dangle the past exams in front of Class D’s figureheads and test their ability to handle the situation?” “Yeah.
I was looking for an opportunity to establish a point of contact with Class D anyway, so this was perfect timing.
I’m really grateful for the past exam papers.” Were they utterly despairing over their current situation and giving up?
Or did they still intend to aim for the upper classes?
And if they did, did they possess the capability to do so?
No matter what outcome awaited them, Mamoru had no intention of taking direct action himself.
To him, it was truly just a matter of adjusting how much vigilance he needed to direct toward Class D in the future.
When push came to shove, whether or not one was on guard could mean the difference between life and death in initial response time.
This was merely a check for that purpose.
“I see.
I’m glad to hear it didn’t go to waste.
However…
if your own class finds out about this, won’t it turn into quite a headache?” Indeed, aiding another class was an act that could easily be construed as betrayal.
“Probably.
But right now, the students of Class A don’t give a damn about any other class.
As long as I’m careful around the Class D student I’m dealing with, the odds of being exposed are low.
Even if it does leak out, considering the current gap between Class A and Class D, I don’t think it would become an irredeemable issue.” While losing some trust from his peers would be inevitable, Mamoru judged that it was something he could easily earn back by working selflessly for the class in future examinations.
“The only thing left is figuring out the location…” “If you need a spot for a secret meeting, there’s always the place where I summoned you before.” She was referring to the back of the school building where Fuka had called Mamoru out previously.
Indeed, foot traffic there was sparse, making it suitable for a covert chat.
However, hearing her suggestion, Mamoru scratched his cheek with a conflicted expression and muttered: “That place is a bit…” Seeing his reaction, Fuka leaned in slightly closer to Mamoru, a teasing smirk playing on her lips.
“What’s this?
You don’t want anyone else defiling the place where we first met?” “I didn’t say anything like that.
It’s just that there are no security cameras covering that area, which might make the other person even more suspicious and on guard.” “Don’t deny it so fiercely.
You’ll break a delicate maiden’s heart.” “If you want to advertise yourself as a delicate maiden, shouldn’t you be displaying a bit more caution?
Would you mind letting go of me already?” “Heh, what nonsense are you spouting?
If you had the mind to, regardless of how guarded I was, you could easily overpower me.
Besides, your heart isn’t so innocent that you’d get flustered just from having your hand held, is it…
Master?” ‘This woman…
she’s still holding a grudge over me calling her innocent during that kiss scene!’ Looking at Fuka’s mischievous, wicked smile, Mamoru deeply regretted his careless remark from a while back.
With Mamoru’s raw physical strength, he could easily break free if he really wanted to, but doing so ran the risk of hurting Fuka’s hand.
That was how tightly she was gripping him.
Resigned, Mamoru relaxed his arm and let his head droop slightly in defeat.
Seemingly satisfied with Mamoru’s reaction, Fuka stopped teasing him and steered the conversation back on track.
“Hmm, a discreet place that wouldn’t arouse suspicion, you say?
In that case, you should use the rooftop.
It isn’t a popular spot to begin with, so hardly anyone goes near it after school.
There’s only one security camera there as well.
Even if it happens to have an audio recording function, as long as you’re mindful of your distance, no one will be able to decipher your conversation.” “Ah, right.
I’ll do that then.” It was sound advice, but having been teased continuously until a moment ago, Mamoru couldn’t bring himself to thank her honestly, settling for a casual brush-off instead.
‘Still, I wanted to stay away from the class competition, yet here I am getting involved in such an odd way.’ Mamoru had never been enthusiastic about the class competition to begin with.
Now, moving in a direction where he was aiding another class rather than bringing victory to his own only brought an overwhelming sense of lethargy.
–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– “Are we holding a study session in the library today as well?” After school in the Class D classroom, Kiyotaka Ayanokoji asked Suzune Horikita, who was sitting in the adjacent seat.
“Yes, that’s right.
I’ve already informed Sudo and the others.
Make sure you aren’t late either.” Horikita issued her order in her usual condescending tone, but Ayanokoji felt a tinge of melancholy realizing he had grown completely accustomed to her attitude lately.
Just then, he noticed a male student approaching them.
“Sorry, Horikita-san.
Do you have a moment?” The person who spoke was Yosuke Hirata, a central figure in Class D.
By nature, Hirata was well-liked and highly social—the exact polar opposite of Horikita, who struggled with interpersonal relationships.
Frankly speaking, he was the type of person she found most difficult to deal with.
Finding herself approached by such an individual, Horikita knit her brows, her face explicitly displaying her annoyance.
“What is it?
We are about to start a study session, so if you have something to say, please make it brief.” When Horikita spoke so crossly, Hirata wore a troubled expression.
“I’m sorry.
Actually, there’s something I want to consult you about, but it’s better if other people don’t overhear.
Could we move somewhere else?” As Hirata lowered his voice while stealing a glance in Ayanokoji’s direction, suspicion flickered in Horikita’s eyes.
Sensing her distrust, Hirata hurriedly added: “It’s a consultation regarding the midterms.” “Then you can speak right here, can’t you?” Horikita instantly shot back against Hirata’s proposal.
Facing her sharp rejection, Hirata hesitantly pulled a piece of paper from his pocket.
“Please…
take a look at this.” Horikita accepted the paper cautiously and scanned its contents.
From Ayanokoji’s position, the text wasn’t visible, but as Horikita read through it, her expression gradually turned grim and contemplative.
“This is…” “What does it say?” When Ayanokoji asked, Horikita held the paper out toward him.
However, seeing her action, Hirata called out in panic.
“Wait, Horikita-san.
That’s…” “Regrettably, I do not trust you.
In fact, he is far more trustworthy by comparison.
Since there is a possibility this is a self-staged farce meant to lure me out, I have no intention of coming along unless he accompanies us.” Even Horikita probably didn’t genuinely believe Hirata was planning something malicious against her, but she clearly had no intention of keeping Ayanokoji out of the loop either.
Ordinarily, having such rude words hurled at him would offend anyone, but Hirata showed no signs of anger whatsoever, simply nodding in resignation.
Seeing that response, Ayanokoji took the paper and read through it himself.
> Regarding the midterm examinations, I can teach you a guaranteed method to avoid failing marks.
> If you are interested, please come to the school rooftop tomorrow after school.
> I would prefer if this information wasn’t spread widely.
> You may bring up to two companions.
Please ensure they are tight-lipped.
“This is…” Ayanokoji raised his eyes from the paper and looked at Hirata.
“So, can I assume you’re willing to discuss this with me?” “Yes, that’s fine.” “I haven’t agreed to anything though…” When Ayanokoji voiced his complaint against Horikita, who was driving the conversation forward on her own, she brushed it off with a slight snort.
“You’ve read it, so you can no longer claim to be uninvolved.” “You were the one who made me read it.” “My, I never said a single word telling you to read it, did I?” ‘That’s pure sophistry.’ Indeed, Horikita hadn’t explicitly ordered him to read it; she had merely handed the letter over.
Realizing that pointing this out would be a waste of breath, Ayanokoji let out a resigned sigh.
Above all, he himself was quite intrigued by the contents of this letter.
He quietly decided to follow the two out of the classroom.
Even when seeking a secluded spot, there was no place near the classroom that was truly ideal for a private conversation.
The three walked aimlessly until they stopped at a location where they could confirm no one else was around, before finally getting down to business.
“So, why did you decide to consult me of all people?” Horikita was the first to open her mouth.
This was a question Ayanokoji shared as well.
As things stood, Hirata was fully aware that Horikita kept her distance from him, making her an unsuitable choice for advice.
“At first, I considered talking to Kushida-san.
But assuming this letter is genuine, I thought the ones who need this method the most right now—though it might sound rude to say this—are Sudo-kun and his group.” “…That is certainly true.” With a stern look, Horikita acknowledged Hirata’s point.
Currently, Horikita was holding study sessions for students in Class D who were on the verge of failing.
Although things had recently begun to get on track, they were fundamentally a group of students who had never taken studying seriously.
As matters stood, there was no guarantee they could completely avoid failing marks.
“I understand your reasoning for bringing this to me.
So, what are your thoughts on this letter, which looks so blatantly like a trap?” “…I also don’t believe there’s such a convenient story where failing marks can be guaranteed to be avoided.
But considering who handed this letter to me, I can’t help but feel there might be something to it.” “The person who handed it to you?
Just who was it?” “It was Mamoru Gojo-kun from Class A.” “A Class A student?” Horikita fixated on the class designation, but Hirata’s tone sounded like he was offering a personal assessment of the individual himself.
Catching onto that nuance, Ayanokoji interjected with a question.
“Is he famous?” “Yeah, his reputation seems to be exceptionally good.
He isn’t particularly outgoing, but whenever people talk to him, he’s polite and easy to get along with.
But that’s not all…
Do you two remember what Chabashira-sensei mentioned during the point explanation?
That there was a student in Class A who deduced the full picture of the school on the very first day?” “Don’t tell me…” Horikita’s eyes widened slightly.
Having been told that much, anyone would be able to guess the rest.
Ayanokoji, while keeping his expression neutral, was also able to predict the general direction of the story.
“Yeah, he’s that student.
After hearing that story, I got curious and asked some students from other classes during club activities.
That’s where his name came up.” “Mamoru…
Gojo…” Horikita murmured the name slowly, as if chewing on every syllable.
As someone with an extraordinary obsession with Class A, she naturally harbored complex emotions toward an individual who had achieved such a standout feat right after enrollment.
“If it’s him, it’s entirely possible he noticed a loophole in the test that we completely missed.” “Even if that’s true, I don’t understand his intention in sharing it with us.
It’s only natural to assume it’s a trap.” “I can’t deny that possibility either.
But having met and spoken with him directly, he didn’t strike me as someone who would maliciously sabotage others.” “How foolish.
Trusting someone you’ve only just met.” Horikita offered a harsh critique.
Hirata himself wore a bitter expression, unable to present clear evidence to justify his trust.
“What do you think, Ayanokoji-kun?” Realizing it was pointless to argue further with Hirata, Horikita sought Ayanokoji’s opinion.
Unsure how best to answer, Ayanokoji decided to speak his mind honestly.
“It’s certainly difficult to trust someone you’ve just met.
But isn’t it also too early to conclude it’s a trap?” “What do you mean by that?” “For instance, what if he’s proposing an equal trade?
Offering to teach us a strategy for the test in exchange for points, for example.” “Even if that were the case, whether that strategy is legitimate won’t be proven until after we actually take the test.
I think it would be far more dangerous if he feeds us unnecessary information and causes confusion.” “Can’t we decide that after we hear what he has to say?
Right now, what Hirata is asking is whether or not we should accept the invitation.” Receiving Ayanokoji’s gaze, Hirata nodded in agreement.
“Yeah.
I think meeting him directly to hear what he has to say isn’t a bad idea.
The problem is, if I go alone, there’s a risk I might make a misjudgment.
To prevent that, I want someone to come along with me.” Reinforcing Hirata’s plea, Ayanokoji added further: “Even if it turns out to be a trap, this Gojo guy is a key figure in Class A, right?
Isn’t there value in meeting him in person just to see what kind of person he is?” “…You’re unusually talkative today, Ayanokoji-kun.” “I was asked for an opinion, so I merely stated it objectively.” In truth, Ayanokoji himself was intrigued by the individual named Mamoru Gojo.
A person who possessed a perspective different from ordinary people—and perhaps even different from his own.
What kind of intention did such a person have in sending a letter like this?
“…Fine.
Let’s go at least to hear what he has to say.
The three of us going should be enough, right?” After showing a moment of hesitation, Horikita finally agreed.