After a full day of messing around, Sherlock eventually parted ways with Gojo, took a hot shower, and collapsed onto the bed in his dorm room.
The lights were off, leaving the room almost completely dark.
Normally, with Sherlock’s talent for sleeping whenever life allowed it, he would already have been dead to the world.
Tonight, however, sleep refused to come.
He lay there staring into the darkness, his thoughts returning again and again to something Gojo had said earlier on the quiet path through Jujutsu High.
You’re the only person I’ve ever met who managed to bypass my Infinity using nothing but your innate technique.
Was Sherlock excited?
A little.
But what he felt more strongly was unease.
He might barely remember the actual plot of Jujutsu Kaisen anymore, but he knew enough about the conservative higher-ups to understand one thing.
If they discovered that his cursed technique could bypass Infinity, they would never leave him alone.
Then there was Gojo himself.
He knew perfectly well that Sherlock only needed to leave a mark behind to teleport directly to him.
Yet during combat training, Gojo still willingly disabled Infinity and sparred with him at close range, apparently unconcerned about Sherlock leaving more marks behind.
Even now, if Sherlock concentrated, he could still sense one of his marks inside Gojo’s room not far away.
Sherlock let out a quiet sigh.
He genuinely couldn’t understand why Gojo trusted him so much.
Was it really just because Sherlock happened to be his first student?
Sherlock had no idea what went through the mind of someone called the strongest.
But one thing was becoming painfully obvious.
The quiet life he’d planned for himself was probably gone for good.
As long as he remained part of the jujutsu world, the higher-ups would eventually take an interest in him.
Whether he stood beside Gojo or against him wouldn’t change that.
“Man…
how did my life end up like this?” His exhausted sigh disappeared into the dark room.
…
Early the next morning, Sherlock did something almost unheard of.
He got out of bed voluntarily.
Gojo didn’t need to drag him out from under the blankets.
By the time the sun had barely risen, Sherlock was already on the training field, running laps on his own.
One sleepless night had been enough for him to accept reality.
His future wasn’t going to be peaceful.
Even if nobody learned that Flying Thunder God could bypass Infinity, simply being known as Gojo Satoru’s student would eventually make him a target for people who wanted leverage against his teacher.
And suddenly, Gojo’s insistence that Sherlock learn Reverse Cursed Technique as soon as possible made a lot more sense.
He wasn’t rushing Sherlock because he was impatient.
He was worried.
Compared with a group of elders who hid everything behind closed doors, Sherlock could at least tell who genuinely wanted him to survive.
Unfortunately, the person who cared about him also happened to possess one of the most unbearable personalities Sherlock had ever encountered.
That part still sucked.
As usual, Gojo came to Sherlock’s dorm early that morning, fully intending to tear him out of bed.
His hand grabbed nothing but empty blankets.
Gojo blinked.
Then he walked into the corridor and glanced outside.
Sherlock was already running around the field.
A satisfied smile appeared on Gojo’s face.
At almost the same time, Shoko emerged from the infirmary after finishing an overnight shift.
She was about to return to her room and sleep when she noticed Gojo standing by the window.
Following his gaze, she spotted Sherlock running below.
Shoko leaned against the windowsill and lit a cigarette.
“You’re really that worried the higher-ups will target your only student?” Gojo’s smile faded.
“I’m not worried.” His eyes remained fixed on Sherlock, whose pace was already beginning to slow.
“I’m certain they will.” Shoko took a drag from her cigarette.
She didn’t answer.
She simply waited.
“I looked into what happened after the Star Plasma Vessel mission.” Gojo’s voice had lost its usual playfulness.
“The missions Suguru and I received afterward weren’t random.” Shoko’s eyes shifted toward him.
Gojo continued.
“They deliberately kept us apart.” His expression darkened.
“The assignments were screened before they reached us.
Someone was making sure Suguru spent more and more time alone.” A trace of regret entered his voice.
“They may not have ordered him to defect, but they were pushing him toward the edge.” Gojo’s hands tightened slightly.
“And I didn’t notice until it was already over.” Shoko understood what he was saying.
She looked back toward the field without comment.
Yaga’s class had produced some of the most extraordinary students Tokyo Jujutsu High had ever seen.
It had also produced exactly the kind of people the higher-ups feared most.
Gojo Satoru alone, backed by the influence of the Gojo clan, was already difficult enough for them to control.
The idea of someone with Cursed Spirit Manipulation standing permanently beside the bearer of the Six Eyes had been even worse.
After Suguru’s defection, the pressure directed at Gojo had become less obvious.
It hadn’t disappeared.
This year’s recruitment situation made that painfully clear.
If Gojo hadn’t personally found Sherlock, Tokyo Jujutsu High might not have received a single new student.
And if the pattern continued, anyone discovered through channels controlled by the higher-ups would probably be steered toward Kyoto instead.
The two stood silently in the corridor.
Below them, Sherlock kept running.
His breathing grew heavier.
His pace deteriorated.
Still, he refused to stop.
Eventually, Shoko’s cigarette burned down to the filter.
She crushed it against the edge of the ashtray on the windowsill and straightened.
“Don’t expect me to tell Suguru any of this.” Her voice was cool.
Then she started walking toward her room.
Just before closing the door, she added, “You and Suguru are both idiots.
I’d prefer neither of you show up in front of me again.” A brief pause.
“And that kid down there who’s about to collapse can stay away too.” The door shut.
Gojo stared at it for a moment before laughing softly.
“Shoko really hasn’t changed.” He stretched his arms behind his head and started toward the training field.
There was one thing he hadn’t said aloud.
Even knowing that the higher-ups may have manipulated events from behind the scenes wouldn’t necessarily bring Suguru back.
Too much had already happened.
Some things couldn’t simply be undone.
But Gojo still had hope for the future.
And right now, that hope was stumbling around the training field while stubbornly refusing to quit.
He didn’t want the story between himself and Suguru to repeat itself with someone else.
Not ever again.
Gojo stepped outside and stopped at the edge of the field.
Sherlock had finally exhausted himself and was lying flat on his back, staring at the sky while trying to breathe.
Gojo’s smile softened.
So quietly that only he could hear it, he murmured, “Get stronger, kid.” Sherlock’s head immediately turned.
“Huh?” He hadn’t actually heard what Gojo said.
That didn’t stop him from assuming the worst.
“What were you muttering about, you damn white-haired menace?” Gojo’s expression instantly transformed.
“Eh?!” He pressed one hand dramatically against his chest.
“Sherlock-kun, how could you speak that way to the handsome, adorable, greatest teacher in the world?” Sherlock’s face went pale.
Gojo smiled sweetly.
“Gojo-sensei is deeply hurt.” He raised one finger.
“So let’s add another five laps~” Sherlock stared at him in horror.
“…Is it too late to apologize?”