Himmel and Gojo Satoru had fought to their hearts’ content.
On the other side of things, Yaga Masamichi was having a rough time of it.
“Yes, yes.” “I understand.” “I’ll submit a proper report later.” “Right, right.
You’re absolutely right.” That broad back of his could have passed for a city wall , solid, steady, reassuring.
The bear of a teacher stood in a black tracksuit, facing the blackboard and his back to the room, bowing and nodding incessantly into his phone.
Behind him sat two people: one white-haired, one blue-haired.
The white-haired pretty boy had his legs crossed on top of his desk, hands laced behind his head, leaning back so far the chair was balanced on its rear two legs, rocking lazily.
The blue-haired one sat properly in his own seat.
He had a young face, but something about his expression was warm and gentle.
Hands resting on his knees.
Picture-perfect.
Yaga Masamichi hung up, turned around, and saw exactly this.
“….” He opened his mouth slightly.
Looked at Gojo Satoru with an indescribable expression.
“Satoru.” “Hm?” “Seeing me like this — is there anything you want to say?” Gojo Satoru tilted his head back even further, let out a long, thoughtful hum, and eventually replied.
“Being a working adult sure is rough~ I am never becoming that kind of grown-up.” “That’s your takeaway after watching your teacher bust his ass for you!!!” “Gwa!!” Yaga’s nostrils flared.
He charged forward like a bull, crossed the room in three strides, and locked an arm around Gojo Satoru’s neck without a shred of mercy.
The latter cooperatively let his Infinity drop, leaving himself entirely at the teacher’s mercy.
They grunted and wrestled until the energy ran out.
Yaga caught his breath and looked at Himmel.
“I’m very sorry.” Before Yaga could say anything further, Himmel bowed his head first.
“Honestly, I still can’t fully control my own Cursed Technique.
I was the one who caused the unnecessary commotion.” “You…
ah, forget it.
It’s Satoru’s fault anyway.” “That is way too harsh!
It was obviously fifty-fifty!” Gojo Satoru protested.
“Wait, no!
The principal was the one who told me to help test his technique in the first place, so if we’re counting that way, all three of us share equal blame!
Let’s hold hands and walk to the judgment seat together!” “Satoru.
Shut up.” “Oh…” Yaga Masamichi took a few slow, deliberate breaths.
“Right.
Where we stand: the surveillance placed by the higher-ups has already noticed your existence.
The fact that you’re a Shikigami is still known only to us, and I won’t be reporting it.” This was to protect the Hasaba sisters.
If the higher-ups ever learned that a combat asset of Himmel’s caliber was controlled by two small girls, everyone would want to make a move on them.
“Your official identity is a wild sorcerer Geto Suguru happened to stumble across, with a Cursed Technique that awakened out of nowhere.
Between Geto’s and Gojo’s reputations, that’s more than enough to vouch for you.” “To cement the identity, you’ll need to take on a large volume of missions.
It’s a signal , or more accurately, a controlled weakness.
Let the higher-ups see your strength, but keep it in the range where they find you useful without finding you threatening.” “What a pain.” Gojo Satoru cut in.
“Satoru.
Shut up.” “Oh.” Yaga sighed twice, gathering his thoughts.
“Now, the real question , as the Shikigami of the Hasaba sisters, can you range far from them?” As their guardian, the last thing he wanted was to drag two elementary school-aged girls to active Cursed Spirit scenes.
PTSD was a real concern.
“That’s not an issue.” Himmel indicated it was fine, then raised another point.
“That said, those two are very attached to me.
Personally, I think they’re still in a psychologically fragile period.
Even when I do have to leave, someone needs to stay behind to look after them.” “Is that so.” Yaga nodded repeatedly.
The fact that this man thought in those terms was genuinely heartening.
Then , He looked at Gojo Satoru.
Gojo Satoru: “?” “Teacher.
You’re not thinking of putting me on babysitting duty, are you?” The white-haired youth laughed , a big, easy, carefree laugh , and then his face snapped into the kind of sharp-lined, exaggerated expression that belongs in the side panels of a manga.
He smirked.
“Are you two trying to destroy those kids’ futures?” “I happen to be very confident in my ability to raise them into the kind of remarkable women who beat delinquents to their knees, stack them into a pile, and sit on top with their legs crossed playing on their phones.” “What exactly are you bragging about.” Yaga slapped the back of Gojo Satoru’s head.
“What I mean is, you’ll all take shifts.” “Shifts?” Gojo Satoru rubbed the back of his head, blinking at him with mismatched eyes.
Yes, shifts.
Tokyo Jujutsu High was busy enough that people’s feet barely touched the ground, and Yaga himself had to travel on occasion.
But there was always at least one person left on campus.
With Geto Suguru, Ieiri Shoko, Gojo Satoru, and Himmel rotating, someone would always be around to look after the girls.
“I object!” Gojo Satoru kept his baffled expression and spoke quickly.
“I’m already drowning in work.
Why do I have to babysit on top of it!” “Who said anything about babysitting!
You’re basically a kid yourself , this is about nurturing promising young talent!
Upperclassman solidarity!
And from what I’ve seen, those two aren’t helpless, they’re well-behaved.
It won’t take much.” “But —” Gojo Satoru opened his mouth again.
Yaga silenced him with a look.
“Himmel is their Shikigami.
He’ll carry most of the burden.
Consider this compensation.” “And let me tell you something , raising the lot of you has been ten times more exhausting than raising those two girls will ever be.
I’ve cleaned up more of your messes than I can count.
You can’t help your teacher with one small thing?
Is this what I raised?
People this cold-blooded?” HISS!
Gojo Satoru’s expression cycled through five different emotions.
He finally settled into a performance of sycophantic goodwill, rubbing his hands together.
“…..What I meant to say is….
you forgot Nanami-kun.” …….
…..
They left the classroom and walked together toward the dormitory building.
Along the way, they didn’t talk about anything serious.
Quite the opposite , most of the time, it was Gojo Satoru peppering Himmel with questions.
What food he liked.
What type of female celebrities he was into.
Why this guy thought an ancient Hero would have opinions on female celebrities was anyone’s guess.
Gojo Satoru was easy to talk to, and somewhere in the chatter the conversation drifted to Himmel’s past.
Himmel was a Hero , Gojo Satoru knew that much.
What he was curious about was what the Demon King had actually been.
“…An enemy that couldn’t be defeated if even one of my companions was missing.” Not many people had ever asked Himmel about the Demon King.
Its abilities, its magic, all those terrible memories , they’d been left behind decades ago.
“Companions, huh~” Gojo Satoru repeated the word, his tone taking on a weight it hadn’t had before.
“…The only sorcerer who can actually keep up with me is probably Geto.” Himmel: “Hm?” Gojo Satoru: “Hm?” Himmel paused mid-step.
So did Gojo Satoru.
They looked at each other.
Keep up?
…This guy.
Did he genuinely not notice what kind of shape his best friend was in lately?
The same situation he was partly responsible for?
Himmel had been in this world for less than a week and he could already see it clearly.
Heroes were supposed to be perceptive, sure, but this was something else entirely.
Oh well.
Under Gojo Satoru’s puzzled stare, Himmel simply walked on.
Better not to take a young man’s troubles away from him before he’s ready to face them.
With age , and now as a Heroic Spirit , Himmel had noticed his own temperament slowly drifting toward Frieren’s.
Easygoing.
A little distant, sometimes.
Was that just what happened to anyone who lived long enough?
A quiet side effect of a life spent with magic?
They arrived at Geto Suguru’s dormitory.
The plan was for Gojo Satoru to round everyone up for dinner.
He’d been thinking about the party that hadn’t happened yesterday.
When they reached the door, Gojo Satoru raised his hand to push it open.
Himmel stopped him.
“…What?” Himmel said nothing.
He raised one finger to his lips.
The man who had just been calling himself easygoing and distant now had something vivid and bright moving behind his eyes.
Through the crack in the door, Geto Suguru’s voice filtered out.
It didn’t sound like his usual voice.
It was softer.
The kind of tone you use to coax a small animal.
“Watch closely , here comes —this!” Then a sound came.
A strange sound.
Like a frog being squeezed around the throat.
Two little girls erupted into laughter.
“Again!
Again!” That was Mimiko.
“Geto is a genius!” That was Nanako.
“Alright, watch carefully —…” Geto Suguru’s voice was unmistakably laced with a smile.
Gojo Satoru’s eyebrows climbed.
He tiptoed forward.
Nudged the door open.
And saw , Geto Suguru sitting cross-legged on the floor, long legs folded, angled sideways to the doorway.
Eyes stretched as wide as they would go, the whites swallowing his whole eye sockets.
Eyebrows raked up.
Nose crushed flat, nostrils flaring out to either side.
Upper lip rigid.
Lower lip pushed out in a full pout.
Tongue straining upward toward the tip of his nose.
“Frog~” It was magnificently ugly.
A grade-A funny face, by any metric.
“Hahaha!!” “Bwahahahaha!!” A little childish for adults, maybe, but perfectly calibrated for kids at the age where a mildly crude word is already enough to send them into hysterics.
The sisters laughed until their cheeks went red.
Geto finally let his face relax.
He rubbed at the stiff muscles around his jaw, then laughed too.
And seeing all of this , PFFT!
He couldn’t hold it.
Gojo Satoru produced a noise of considerable volume.
The kind of sound associated with a front-row student who ate sweet potatoes for breakfast and failed to manage their sphincter during homeroom.
“!!!” In that instant, Geto Suguru snapped his neck around at an unnatural speed.
He saw Himmel, head slightly turned, one hand pressed over his mouth.
He saw Gojo Satoru bent nearly double, both hands clamped over his.
Both of them were shaking continuously, like men fighting for their lives against something.
If this were a manga, Geto’s horrified profile would be drawn in the side panel , all sharp, frantic lines , while the center frame held the two of them straining heroically against laughter, the thick-thin line contrast doing all the work of depicting Geto Suguru’s inner landscape.
“…kah…
guh…” Geto Suguru began making his own strangled sounds.
Red crept up from his collar and spread across his entire face.
Watching it, you’d worry about his blood pressure.
I want to take a bath.
…
I want to take a bath!!
“You…
saw that?” Geto Suguru asked it one word at a time.
The range of colors currently occupying his face defied description.
“Ah…” Even someone who’s never once been serious in their life knows how to handle a moment like this.
Right, Gojo Satoru.
“I — I didn’t see anything.” The white-haired youth looked up and delivered this with a completely straight face.
Even as tears and something else entirely streamed freely from various appropriate and inappropriate locations, and the corners of his mouth refused to come down no matter what.
That is one hundred percent the face of a man who saw everything!!!
“I didn’t see anything either.” Himmel said it just as steadily, but his usually placid, gentlemanly face had to be aimed slightly sideways to keep it from cracking open.
“…Is, is that so.” Geto Suguru’s expression spasmed and twitched along with his composure.
His face was red.
His lips moved like waves.
He looked away and said, very casually, “Th , then that’s fine.” The nerve it took to play along with that.
Remarkable fortitude.
“Right.
Anyway, I came to get you for the party.
Dinner’s on me , come on.” Gojo Satoru said.
“Oh.” Topic change, fast.
Geto Suguru patted his rear and got to his feet.
The Hasaba sisters, who had already placed their trust in him, tugged at the hem of his clothes as they stood.
“Mm-hmm.” Himmel and Gojo Satoru turned and headed for the door.
Two steps out.
Standing in the doorframe.
They stopped.
“…Why did you stop walking?” Geto Suguru, a girl’s hand in each of his, felt a cold premonition.
The two stood with their backs to him.
They had gone still.
Then they started to tremble , just slightly at first, the shaking growing in slow, steady increments, bigger and bigger until , Both of them turned.
Himmel clockwise, Gojo counterclockwise, a synchronized half-rotation that left them facing Geto Suguru.
They spoke as one.
Eyes as wide as they would go.
Lower lip pushed out.
Tongues straining toward the tip of the nose.
“Frog!~” Click.
Funny faces delivered.
Door closed.
In the half-second Geto Suguru was still occupied with two small girls holding his hands, they had already slammed it shut.
[.!!.!, , !, , !, , ] The roar that came from inside the room rang out through every corridor of Jujutsu High.
The story is already written.