Gojo Satoru.
Head of the Gojo family , one of the Three Great Jujutsu Clans , the strongest sorcerer of the modern era, and a living legend among the third-years at Tokyo Jujutsu High.
The rumors about him were countless.
But according to those who actually knew him: [That guy has a screw loose.
, Nanami Kento] [Without a doubt, a screw loose.
, Ieiri Shoko] [The most screw-loose of all my students.
, Yaga Masamichi] [Everyone’s being too harsh.
He’s just a little screw-loose.
, Geto Suguru] Specifically.
Like right now.
“Waaah waaah waaah.” Nighttime.
Inside Shoko’s student dormitory.
A six-foot-three silver-haired pretty boy sat on the floor with his legs splayed out, pulling a handkerchief from god-knows-where to dab dramatically at the corners of his eyes.
“I never thought,” he whined, voice trembling with theatrical agony, “that you two getting close to me was just so you could get your hands on the Gojo family estate.
Waaah waaah waaah.” Geto: “Who cares about your family estate.” Shoko: “Gross.” A year of sharing a classroom had clearly taught them everything they needed to know about handling Gojo Satoru.
“Waaah waaah waaah, so cold-hearted.
When exactly did you two decide to claim ownership of me?
Heartbreaker.
Scumbag.” He wrapped his arms around himself, twisting dramatically, performing misery with his whole body.
No trace of dignity.
No trace of ‘the strongest.’ Not even a crumb.
But as he carried on, his gaze drifted toward Himmel , and the two girls hiding behind him, sneaking curious glances at Gojo Satoru.
“So those are our daughters?” “We’re not getting into the ‘daughter’ thing right now,” Geto said from the side.
“But yes , they’re the kids I picked up.
Both have sorcerer potential.
You don’t need to get involved.
Actually, don’t get involved.” “So mean~~” The silver-haired pretty boy pouted.
“Hmph.
Fine.
Then I guess I won’t tell you about my illegitimate child.” “Huh?!” Geto made a strangled sound.
But no matter how much he pressed, Gojo refused to breathe another word about this supposed ‘illegitimate child.’ He’d already shifted his attention to the most unfamiliar person in the room.
“…..” A rare silence.
Gojo Satoru’s eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, hard to read.
But his gaze was fixed on Himmel.
And Himmel, for his part, was watching this joke-loving junior with equal interest.
(A bit like myself when I was young.) Old man Himmel felt the twinge of nostalgia.
Back in the day, he had been exactly that spirited, exactly that brimming with confidence.
(Though unlike Gojo Satoru, I was probably a bit more mature.
…Probably.) The two of them just looked at each other.
The others caught the shift in atmosphere and went quiet without quite knowing why.
Until Gojo broke the silence.
“Whoa — for a second I thought I was looking in a mirror.
Scared me.” “Ha.
Well, you are quite handsome, classmate.” “HAHAHAHA — you think so too?
Like the sun meeting the moon?” “HAHAHAHA, yes, exactly like that.” “HAHAHAHAHA.” Both of them burst out laughing.
Gojo Satoru’s laugh was loud and unhinged.
Himmel’s was warm and open.
From the sidelines, Geto Suguru , who understood Gojo’s narcissism and had formed a working picture of Himmel over the past few days , arrived at a single thought: Those two both just decided they were the ‘sun’ in that conversation.
He was starting to regret introducing them.
Geto tried to redirect.
“You’re back early this time, Gojo.” “Huh?
Oh…
actually I could’ve been back even earlier, but I stopped for strawberry daifuku during mission hours, so it dragged on.” Gojo Satoru disclosed this information about slacking on the job with zero hesitation.
“Bad student,” Shoko said.
“That’s ethically questionable,” Geto added.
“Is it really?” Himmel cut in, casual as anything.
“A mission is like a journey.
The scenery along the way matters as much as the destination.
If anything , for a difficult mission, you should at least come home with one good memory.” Gojo Satoru snapped a finger sideways and declared, “What is this guy?!
He is completely my kind of person!” He took an exaggerated step forward, one arm extended, forearm and upper arm locked at a perfect ninety degrees.
Most people would’ve stared blankly.
But Himmel , this man from another age entirely , seemed to catch the frequency in an instant.
He stepped forward, bent into the same pose, and hooked his elbow through Gojo’s.
Both of them snapped a synchronized “Yeah!” “Are you two long-lost brothers or something?” Shoko said.
I absolutely should not have let these two meet, Geto confirmed internally.
Gojo Satoru and Himmel launched into conversation with the force of a small explosion, burning hot enough that even their friends couldn’t wedge a word in edgewise.
Just as Geto was calculating how to stop them , “Hm~~……” Gojo hummed softly.
“Speaking of which, Geto — you said he’s a shikigami those two girls’ techniques summoned?” “Yeah.” Geto nodded.
“Hah.
That’s strange, because —” He grinned.
“I don’t think the techniques of two little brats would be enough to summon something like Himmel.” .
Gojo Satoru.
The foundation of his strength as ‘the strongest’ was the Gojo clan’s hereditary trait: the [Six Eyes].
360-degree long-range vision.
Sight that pierced through obstacles.
The ability to see through any opponent’s technique.
Direct tracking and real-time prediction of cursed energy trajectories.
And atomic-level precision in his own cursed energy output.
The ability to see through techniques , that, specifically, was why Yaga had placed his faith in Gojo.
Gojo Satoru had not disappointed him.
The ability itself was technically ‘cursed energy observation,’ which was almost certainly because in this world, cursed energy was the only mystical energy that existed.
But Himmel’s magical energy?
Gojo could see that too.
He could even identify it as something fundamentally different from cursed energy.
So he did believe the claim that Himmel was a ‘Heroic Spirit.’ But , “Jujutsu operates on equivalent exchange.
Just like my existence breaks the balance between humans and curses, [gaining] always means [losing].” He slipped in the self-reference without breaking stride.
“But from what I’ve observed, Himmel has extra techniques on him , more than one.
They’re not complex in structure, but their actual effects remain unverified.” SNAP!
Gojo snapped his fingers and tilted his head back toward Geto.
“And you said, Geto, his pure physical combat alone is enough to rival a Grade 1 sorcerer.” “To be precise, he surpasses Grade 1.
Hand-to-hand only, he’d beat you too, Gojo.” “Haha, no way!~” Gojo waved it off.
“But if that’s true, something doesn’t add up.
[Two girls’ techniques] in exchange for a [shikigami on par with a Special Grade] , that’s not a fair trade.” “Innate techniques are engraved on the body.
I’ve seen both girls’.
They’re not the type that could pull something like this off.” “So?” Shoko had run out of patience.
She was already working through a lollipop.
“Conclusion?” “How would I know~” Gojo spread his arms wide.
“I’m not omniscient.
Look , he seems like a good person, he’s clearly strong, can’t we just clap and call it a day?” “Then why’d you say all that?” “Because,” Gojo said, looking genuinely put out, “if I don’t give you a whole speech, how are you supposed to appreciate how impressive I am?” The others ignored him, brought the food out, and they all ate together.
Afterward , “Alright.
Let’s call it a night.” “The two kids can stay with me for now.
Geto, any news on your end?” “I’m asking my parents.” “Sorry to put everyone out.” Gojo Satoru watched them pass right over him like he wasn’t there, and his mood soured.
“Tch.
Fine, no party for you then!
I’m throwing a huge one tomorrow morning , and guess who’s not invited!” No one reacted.
Given Gojo’s personality, finally getting back to school only to be shut out like this would normally guarantee a scene.
He’d sulk and perform until someone paid attention.
But that night, he didn’t say anything.
Just…
“Alright, let’s go.
Shoko has this side covered.
Himmel, you’re staying at mine.” “Sorry for the trouble.” “Gojo, time to head to your own room.” “Yessir~” Geto Suguru was the last to leave.
As he pulled the door shut and turned around, he caught a glimpse , Gojo Satoru leaning back against the railing, body tilted toward Himmel, saying something quietly in his ear.
“What are you two talking about?” Gojo Satoru: “Nothing~” Himmel: “Nothing, really.” Geto gave them both a strange look, and let it go.
……….
……
The next morning.
Six o’clock.
Jujutsu sorcerers were not basketball players.
They did not drag themselves out of bed at 4:30 AM to train.
Most of them stayed up through the night, sleep schedules completely inverted , closer to esports players than athletes.
Asleep at 2 AM.
Up at 10.
Six o’clock was absurd by their standards.
Himmel woke, and went through his usual routine.
He pressed the backs of his hands together, twisted his arms to the side, working out his deltoids.
He rotated his waist, tilted his head back, bowed forward, stretching the length of his spine.
He pulled his knees up.
Bounced twice.
“Alright!” Jujutsu High was still wrapped in morning mist.
Himmel stood at the edge of the track, hands on his hips, and breathed it in deep.
Then he lowered into a crouch.
BOOM!
The next instant, he was gone.
The air rushed in to fill the void behind him, and Himmel was already cutting through the scenery at speed that made it smear.
It was less like running and more like low-altitude flight , each stride eating ten-odd meters, and after a straight-line sprint, a single leap covered a full kilometer.
In seconds, he reached the heart of the forest.
He landed with a THUD, feet settling into a carpet of fallen leaves.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Gojo Satoru stood in the clearing ahead of him.
Himmel raised a hand in greeting.
“Oh.” Gojo , still sharp-eyed despite having been up most of the night , lifted a hand back.
“Let’s get into it.” “Decisive, aren’t you,” Himmel said.
“Bad habit from a year of back-to-back missions.” Gojo pulled a face.
“Every day, mission after mission.
Last time I was back here feels like two weeks ago.” “Alright, enough.” He tilted his chin.
“Show me.” “Your technique.” Technique.
That was the reason Himmel was out here at this hour.
Before they’d split up last night, Gojo had whispered in Himmel’s ear , the whole point being to slip past the others and run a private assessment.
Yaga had already laid it out plainly: Gojo Satoru, Six Eyes and all, was the school’s most effective guarantor.
Until he gave the all-clear, Himmel , and the Hasaba sisters bound to him , couldn’t be declared ‘absolutely safe.’ Himmel didn’t mind for his own sake.
But the Hasaba sisters needed somewhere they could grow up without looking over their shoulders.
So.
“You wouldn’t want anything to happen to those two sisters, would you, old man?” Gojo prompted.
“Please stop phrasing it like that, it gives me the creeps.” Himmel’s eyes creased at the corners.
“Also , fair warning.
This so-called ‘technique’ only appeared after I arrived in this world.
I genuinely don’t know what it does.” “Ah, that’s fine.” Gojo waved a hand.
“I’ll take a look and explain it to you.” “I see…” Himmel nodded.
“You know, Gojo-kun — you might actually make a good teacher.” “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA , !!” An entirely sincere compliment.
And it earned him the full Tom-and-Jerry treatment: Gojo pointing straight at him, shoulders shaking, nearly doubled over.
Was he serious?
In his life, Gojo Satoru had been praised and insulted in every configuration imaginable.
Nothing had ever landed quite like that sentence , occupying the exact frequency of both sincere compliment and devastating joke simultaneously.
Me.
A teacher.
In Shoko’s words: only if heaven and earth swapped places.
He laughed for a solid while before finally pulling himself together, wiping actual tears from his eyes.
“You’re something else, man.
When Geto told me you were the soul of some ancient legend, I fully expected some crusty old relic.” The jujutsu sorcerer clans of this world were almost uniformly rigid, and that had left a certain impression.
Gojo had gone in expecting the same.
But he was close with Geto Suguru, and Geto had told him everything.
Everything Himmel had said.
Including , “Speaking of which.” Gojo tilted his head back, sunglasses angling upward with the motion.
“Geto told me.
You said something to him like , in my eyes, you’re still a child.” “Yeah.” Himmel said it without a moment’s hesitation.
Because it was true.
In his eyes, it wasn’t just Geto Suguru , even Yaga Masamichi was someone he felt an instinct to protect.
But.
Just because Himmel was comfortable with it didn’t mean the strongest sorcerer of the modern era had to be.
“So am I right to assume ,” Gojo’s voice slowed.
His smile faded, degree by degree.
“, that in your eyes, I’m also a child who needs protecting?” “Yeah.” Instant.
Certain.
No hesitation.
Himmel’s expression didn’t change , same easy smile.
But in front of him, the curve of Gojo Satoru’s mouth was growing.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
“Protect me?” He raised his right hand.
Reached up.
Took off his sunglasses and slipped them into his pocket.
His eyes opened to the morning mist.
Blue.
Boundless.
Like looking up at a sky that had no ceiling, clouds layered into infinite depth, stretching on and on without end.
“Looks like,” Gojo Satoru said softly, “this kind-hearted old man is going to need someone to loosen up his bones.”
The story is already written.