In the front seat, Ijichi glanced at them through the rearview mirror and said in a gentle tone, “Hard work, you two.
I’ll organize today’s mission report and hand it over to Gojo-san.
Hoshino-kun, are you sure your body is alright?
Should I drop you off at Shoko-san’s for a check-up first?”
“No need,” Arata waved him off with a smile.
“I’m just a bit tired.
A good night’s sleep will fix it.
Sorry for the trouble, Ijichi-san.”
“Not at all,” Ijichi chuckled.
“I’m just a regular Assistant Director.
In the end, it’s you students who do the heavy lifting.”
Arata hummed in agreement but didn’t press the point.
*Someone hand-picked by Satoru Gojo is hardly “regular.”*
By the time the car pulled up to the gates of Jujutsu High, the sky had already dimmed into twilight.
As Arata stepped out of the car, he spotted a familiar figure leaning against a gatepost.
Maki Zenin stood there with her arms crossed, looking as though she’d been waiting for quite a while.
“Took you long enough,” Maki walked over, her eyes scanning Arata’s face.
“You’re pale.
Did you run into a tough one?”
“It was okay,” Arata fished a lollipop out of his pocket and popped it into his mouth.
“Just sleepy.
And a little hungry.”
Maki snorted, then pulled a paper bag from behind her back and tossed it to him.
“For you.”
Arata caught it and looked inside.
It contained three exquisite dorayaki.
He blinked, looking up at her in surprise.
“Don’t look at me like that.
Panda bought them,” Maki looked away.
“I was just bringing them over on my way.”
“Is that so?” Arata smiled around his lollipop.
“Then tell Panda I said thanks.”
Yuta Okkotsu stood to the side watching this interaction, feeling like something was slightly “off,” though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“Let’s go, it’s dinner time,” Maki turned and walked into the school grounds.
“Panda said the cafeteria is serving your favorite spicy and sour shredded potatoes tonight.”
Arata followed, taking a few steps before looking back at Yuta.
“What are you standing there for?
Come on.”
“Ah, right!” Yuta scrambled to catch up.
In the cafeteria, Panda had already claimed a table.
Toge Inumaki sat beside him, a steaming bowl of ramen in front of him.
“Yo, you’re back!” Panda waved a furry paw.
“How was the mission?”
“Not bad,” Arata sat down and placed the dorayaki on the table.
“Thanks, Panda.”
“You’re welcome,” Panda said solemnly.
“Gojo said he was treating us to sweets.
On his way out, he bought an extra set and told us to help him finish it.
Oh, by the way–he used your money.”
Arata went silent for two seconds, then took a deep breath.
“THAT WHITE-HAIRED BASTARD!!!”
The next morning, during classroom theory.
The classroom was sparsely populated.
Sunlight slanted through the windows, casting bright patches across the desks.
Arata sat in his usual spot by the window, chin in hand, looking like he could drop off at any moment.
A jujutsu theory textbook lay open in front of him, but he clearly wasn’t reading it; his eyes were fixed on the clouds outside.
Maki sat next to him, twirling a pen.
Her notebook featured several lines of neat, organized notes.
She leaned her head down slightly as she wrote, her high ponytail swaying with her movements.
Slowly, Arata’s eyelids began to droop.
Just as he was about to drift off completely, a pen poked him sharply in the arm.
Arata jolted awake and turned to see Maki staring straight ahead, though her pen accurately jabbed him again.
“Listen to the lecture.”
“I am…” Arata rubbed his eyes, muttering under his breath.
“You listen while sleeping?”
“I wasn’t sleeping.
I was contemplating.”
“Contemplating what?”
“Contemplating…” Arata’s brain scrambled for an answer.
“Contemplating why Curse Grade levels are so similar to dessert prices.
Special Grade is like a Limited Edition, Grade 1 is an import, and Grade 2 is your standard supermarket brand.”
Maki’s pen stopped.
She turned her head and gave him a look that clearly asked, *Are you mentally ill?*
Arata blinked innocently.
“Sigh…
you win.” Maki looked back at her notes, but the corner of her mouth twitched as if she were stifling a smile.
In the back row, Panda took it all in.
He nudged Toge with a furry elbow and lowered his voice.
“Don’t you think Maki is especially tolerant of Arata?”
“Salmon, salmon,” Toge nodded in firm agreement.
Eventually, the exhaustion won out, and Arata fell fast asleep.
This time, Maki didn’t poke him.
She just glanced at him once and continued her notes.
The sunlight washed over them, stretching their shadows until they overlapped on the desk.
When the bell finally rang, Arata woke up with a start.
He stretched, his bones popping, and immediately unwrapped a lollipop.
“Are you addicted to sugar?” Maki asked, closing her notebook and glancing at him.
“It’s not an addiction,” Arata said indistinctly.
“It’s a passion.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Addiction is passive.
Passion is active.” Arata explained with total seriousness.
“I am actively choosing to embrace sweets.
I am not being controlled by the sugar.
Get it?”
“You’re truly hopeless,” Maki facepalmed before standing up.
“Come help me train this afternoon.”
“Sure.”
Once Maki had left, Panda leaned over, a meaningful grin on his furry face.
“Arata-kun~”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t you think Maki is especially good to you?”
Arata stopped chewing.
“Is she?
She’s like that with everyone, isn’t she?”
“No, no, no,” Panda shook his head.
“She’s cold to the rest of us.
But to you…”
“Are you helping me analyze this, or are you digging a hole for me?” Arata arched an eyebrow.
“I’m just stating facts.”
“Well, stop stating them.” Arata stood up and patted Panda’s thick arm.
“There are some things that a Panda is better off not knowing too much about.”
Panda blinked as he watched Arata hurry out of the classroom.
He turned to Toge.
“He’s totally acting guilty, right?”
“Salmon.” Toge agreed.
The training field, afternoon.
When Arata arrived, Maki was already there.
He didn’t disturb her, choosing instead to lean against the perimeter fence and watch quietly.
Maki never seemed to need validation or encouragement from others.
Her goal was simple: become a Grade 1 sorcerer, go back to make the Zenin clan lose face, and then destroy them from the inside out.
Arata knew this well.
Eventually, she would achieve it–at the cost of her sister Mai, fully awakening her Heavenly Restriction to become the second coming of the “Heavenly Tyrant.”
Thinking about it, compared to Hakari, the Zenin clan were the true gamblers.
Their first bet was that Toji Fushiguro wouldn’t kill them all.
Their second bet was that Maki wouldn’t become another Toji.
Fortunately for them, they won the first bet; Toji had no interest in wiping them out.
But they lost the second bet miserably.
Maki didn’t just become a second Toji–she slaughtered every last one of them.
Poor Megumi Fushiguro; he’d barely become the Clan Head before the Clan ceased to exist.
Just then, Maki stopped her movements.
She wiped the sweat from her brow and turned her head, her gaze meeting Arata’s.
LanLi: Tbh our Potential Boy has always been unlucky/poor whatever u call it.