Tokyo Suburbs.
Tokyo Jujutsu High lay hidden deep within a remote mountain area, far from the bustling city.
Itadori Yuji, having taken care of his grandfather's funeral, now stood at the gate. His execution sentence had been changed from immediate death to a suspended one thanks to Gojo Satoru's intervention.
Yuji glanced around curiously.
"Is this really... Jujutsu High? Why does it feel like some kind of forest retreat?"
Gojo grinned, hands behind his head.
"You'll get used to it. It's not exactly a place for eating, sleeping, and cursing built in the city center, you know?"
Yuji then looked at Arata Renji, admiration shining in his eyes.
"Arata-senpai, you're amazing... You completely suppressed Sukuna back there!"
Arata patted Yuji's shoulder lightly.
He almost forgot that Sukuna had been occupying this body. If Sukuna hadn't dodged his Kamui, Yuji's head would have been the one twisted off...
His eyes lingered on Yuji's previously severed shoulder. Thankfully, Sukuna had used Reverse Cursed Technique to heal it.
Yuji blinked.
"By the way, where's Fushiguro?"
Gojo smiled slyly.
"He suffered some internal damage. He's getting treatment. He'll be sleeping like a baby for a while."
As they chatted, Gojo began explaining more about Jujutsu High. Before long, they reached an old-fashioned wooden gate with twelve large engraved kanji:
Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College.
"Remember, you two," Gojo warned playfully, "the principal's old-school. If he doesn't like you... you might get sent packing."
Yuji panicked.
"Eh?! If I get kicked out, won't I get executed?!"
Gojo waved him off.
"Relax. Principal Yaga's a kind old man... mostly."
Inside the dimly lit courtyard house, candles flickered faintly on either side. The place was packed with eerie dolls — cursed corpses, their beady eyes seeming to follow every movement.
"You're late, Satoru."
A rough voice sounded.
Yuji flinched.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor was a muscular, tough-looking old man... knitting a doll?!
A serious sorcerer... making cute dolls?!
Arata calmly swept his gaze around the room. These weren't ordinary dolls — they were Principal Yaga Masamichi's signature Cursed Corpses. Lethal puppets, every one of them.
The world's number one puppet master, no doubt.
Yaga frowned at Gojo.
"I won't scold you... but you're eight minutes late. Fix that habit."
"C'mon, old man. Save your breath. You'll need the energy soon," Gojo teased, draping an arm over Arata's shoulder. "Let me introduce our great Principal Yaga Masamichi! His hobby? Sewing super-sexy dolls~ If you've got any 'special requests,' you can probably bribe him into custom work~"
"Shut it!" Yaga growled, veins bulging. "I am the principal, damn it! Show some respect!"
Then his gaze turned sharp, falling on Yuji.
"So... you're Sukuna's vessel. A walking disaster."
Yuji gulped, bowing frantically.
"Y-Yes, sir! Sorry for the trouble!!"
"What are you here for?" Yaga's voice was low.
Yuji blinked.
"Uh... the interview?"
"I said... what's your purpose for coming to Jujutsu High?"
Yuji froze, scrambling to think of a proper answer.
Gojo sighed, whispering to Arata, "Here we go again..."
While they waited, Arata glanced around... and spotted a pink twin-tailed doll. A cute one.
Kamui.
Space warped slightly — the doll vanished into Arata's personal dimension. Might as well steal a cuddly one for sleeping.
"Psst..." Gojo leaned close. "I want the one with the cowlick..."
Arata blinked. Gojo was pointing at a messy-haired doll eerily resembling... Geto Suguru?
Figures. Even in private, Gojo clung to memories of his old friend.
With a sigh, Arata used Kamui again. The second doll disappeared into his space.
Boom!
Yuji was blasted into the air by one of Yaga's activated Cursed Corpses.
Yaga lectured sternly as he attacked, preaching about sorcerer responsibility, life, and death. His words, long-winded as they seemed, struck a chord in Yuji's heart.
Yuji's face darkened... then hardened with determination.
"I'll be the one to swallow all of Sukuna's fingers!" he shouted. "Even if I escape this fate now... cursed spirits could slaughter innocent people while I'm eating dinner or reading manga. I won't let that happen!"
Yaga halted and grunted.
"Good. You've passed."
Arata sighed inwardly. Such a good guy, Itadori Yuji. A real hero at heart.
But Arata himself wasn't that selfless. His only goal was to become strong — strong enough to protect what mattered. Whether strangers lived or died... that wasn't his concern.
Yaga's gaze turned to him.
"Now you, freshman. Why are you here? Gojo must think you're special — but let me judge for myself."
Gojo quickly stepped forward.
"Wait! Principal, don't test him! You'll regret it."
Yaga's brow twitched.
"You think I can't handle a newcomer? Don't underestimate me. I'm still the Principal — a Grade 1 sorcerer — and the creator of Panda, my greatest work."
He smirked confidently.
"Hundreds of Cursed Corpses obey me. I can fight any new student."
Gojo gave up, sighing.
"Fine. But don't cry later."
He leaned in to Arata.
"Take it easy on the old man, okay?"
Arata nodded. He had no intention of humiliating Yaga. The principal was upright and respectable — though his eventual death in the manga was honestly depressing.
Yaga crossed his arms.
"So, freshman. Why are you here?"
Arata scratched his cheek.
For what? To poach future Akatsuki members, obviously. From Tokyo... and Kyoto.
But he couldn't exactly say that.
"Didn't Gojo-sensei say food and lodging were free?"
Silence.
Gojo's smile froze. He shot Arata a desperate side glance: Bro, seriously?! I was kidding!
Yuji's jaw dropped.
He actually said it?!
Even Yaga stared blankly... then let out a low chuckle.
"Hmph. At least you're honest."
In his heart, Yaga grumbled.
Another freeloader, huh... Satoru, what kind of monster did you bring back this time?