In a spacious room large enough to hold dozens of people, a man wearing Buddhist robes sat in the seat of honor.
He had long, flowing hair—unusual for a monk—and his narrow eyes radiated an air of quiet menace. There was something elusive and unsettling about him.
Across from him stood a plump man in a suit.
His tailored outfit, gleaming watch, and well-kept appearance screamed wealth and influence. At a glance, one might assume he belonged to some elite social class.
"That's what I'm saying! If you take this job, my teacher will continue to support you generously!"
Despite his luxurious clothing, the man was drenched in greasy sweat, shouting at the top of his lungs. His image of refinement was long gone.
The man in robes sighed, deeply and without restraint, clearly unimpressed.
"Unfortunately, our motto is to remove curses from those suffering under them. We don't specialize in placing them."
"Ha! How obvious. Don't play innocent—I know your sponsors, those rival politicians and corporations, have all been struck by unnatural misfortunes."
The man in the suit leaned in, eyes glinting.
"If you join us now, you'll be swimming in sweet cash soon enough."
"Sweet cash?" the robed man repeated flatly. "That doesn't interest me. I have no appetite for food served by monkeys."
"...You bastard!"
The man in the suit recoiled, enraged by the insult. But then, in an instant, he froze.
He had caught a glimpse of the robed man's eyes—cold, mechanical, and utterly devoid of warmth. It was the gaze not of someone looking at a fellow human, but rather at trash lying on the roadside.
(He doesn't see me as an equal… Not even close.)
Despite his political ties, the man instinctively understood the power gap between them. He was nothing more than an insect to this sorcerer.
For a moment, he stood frozen, mouth agape. The robed man then flashed a bright smile—mocking, almost amused.
"Looks like our conversation is over. You're free to leave now."
As he said this, the sliding door behind the suited man opened without a sound.
The man turned around, his face twisted as if he'd just bitten into something bitter. He muttered under his breath:
"...You'll regret this."
But despite the threat, walking away was perhaps the smartest decision he'd made that day—it may have added a few more minutes to his lifespan.
Because waiting just beyond the sliding door was a grotesque, baby-like cursed spirit, its mouth stretched wide open.
Unaware of the monster, the man continued walking, hunched shoulders trembling.
Bang!
The creature's mouth snapped shut the instant the man stepped outside.
"Hmph. Monkey with no money," the robed man muttered, watching the cursed spirit swallow the last trace of their unwanted guest.
From beside the grotesque monster emerged a woman with brown hair, wearing a sleeveless dress. She watched the scene with a detached gaze.
"Are you sure that was wise? He could've been a potential source of funding."
"I don't care," the man said with a cheerful grin, now far removed from the iciness he had shown before.
"Monkeys like him don't really believe in jujutsu. They're fools—desperate, and obviously on the decline."
He leaned forward, his smile never fading. "Anyway, anything else to report?"
"Yes. It's about that fish farm."
"Ah, the monkey school? Has a useful cursed spirit finally spawned?"
"No, quite the opposite. It seems the number of cursed spirits being exorcised there has risen sharply since the start of this year."
The man's smile faded. He glanced up at the ceiling, looking almost disappointed.
"...I see. And here I thought it was a good breeding ground. Looks like the technical college has finally stepped in."
"No, actually. There's no indication they've gotten involved."
"...What?"
"We're still investigating, but from what we've gathered, it seems the school's board of directors hired a sorcerer independently."
"A freelancer, huh?" the man mused, interest sparking in his tone. "If we can deal with him, the fish farm can resume functioning."
He leaned back. "It's a curse the technical college wouldn't touch. It'd be a waste to let it end like this."
"Shall I eliminate him?" the woman asked, her voice cool and clinical.
The man shrugged, shaking his head. "No need. Unlike monkeys, I don't enjoy tormenting my fellow sorcerers."
He continued casually, "If he's motivated by money, we can buy him. If he has strong ideals, we might still be able to sway him."
"Do we know his name yet?"
"We're still confirming, but there's been a rumor—a member of the Gojo family has enrolled as a student."
The man's eyes widened in shock.
"...Gojo Mamoru?"
"You know him?"
"No, not personally. But I've always been curious. He's his younger brother, after all."
A trace of something nostalgic flickered in his expression.
"Satoru always kept him under tight watch, so I never had the chance to approach."
"They say he's a dropout—barely third-grade level."
"Fufu… Don't be fooled," the woman warned, smiling. "He's someone Satoru raised himself. If anything, that low evaluation might be deliberate. A smokescreen."
"I see..." the man murmured. "If he's moved away from Satoru's influence, this might be a good opportunity. I'll have to pay him a little visit."
"With respect, Geto-sama, wouldn't it be unwise to approach someone related to the Three Great Families directly? You might attract unwanted attention."
"Oh, I wouldn't talk to him directly. I just want to see what kind of person he is."
As the man in robes stood up, the woman bowed deeply.
"As you wish, Geto-sama."
"...School, huh? Brings back memories—even if it's just some monkey school"
◆◇◆
"Oh, hello there."
One Saturday in June—after midterm results were announced—Mamoru arrived at the technical college and was immediately greeted by his older brother's overly bright voice.
Even though it was early morning, the man radiated the same energy as someone coming off an all-nighter.
Mamoru felt an inexplicable wave of fatigue. (Honestly… is he draining the youth out of people around him just to stay like that?)
"...Good morning, brother."
"I just sensed something rude being thought about me. Was that my imagination?"
"You're imagining it. I'm always thinking fondly of you."
"Nope. That was monotone. It's been a while, and you're already cold. Are you in your rebellious phase?"
Mamoru paused. He realized his tone had been a bit sharp.
(Maybe I'm a little stressed lately. The school's exhausting—but more than that, I've been spending way too much time with those two silver-haired girls. I haven't felt normal since.)
"I'm not rebelling. Anyway, I brought a souvenir. Picked it up at a popular café near school."
He handed over a bag. "There's stuff for Yaga-san and Ieiri-sensei too. Please give it to them."
"You bought souvenirs for those two, too? That's unusually thoughtful of you."
"For people who don't even understand the value of sweets, you should just give them dried squid."
"That's pretty rich coming from the guy who brought them sweets."
"If you want real dessert, go to Ginza."
Before Mamoru came, his brother had asked him to bring back local sweets sold at his school. Anticipating the chaos his brother must be causing for others, Mamoru brought extra for the faculty as well.
"Tsk-tsk. You're still a novice when it comes to sweets," his brother said, wagging a finger. "It's not about the price. Local specialties—those unique, limited-edition items—have a soul."
"Still, it's all just Tokyo. The difference between a Shibuya café and a Shinjuku café isn't that deep."
"Details, details! What matters is exclusivity. School-only sweets? That's golden!"
"...If you say so. Oh, and there's one for Ijichi-san too. I labeled it, so don't eat the wrong one."
"You even bought one for Ijichi? You're being way too nice."
"He's the one who deserves it most. I owe him everything."
Ijichi Kiyotaka. An administrator with a big heart and impressive organizational skills.
He'd been under Mamoru's brother since their own college days—and that meant Ijichi had been treated more like an all-purpose assistant than an actual supervisor.
Between shady missions from higher-ups and the unreasonable whims of his brother, the man was constantly swamped.
He was probably even busier than most frontline sorcerers this season.
Thinking of that, Mamoru felt a flicker of guilt about living like a carefree student.
"By the way," Mamoru said, "I know it's late to ask, but was it really okay for you to take the day off? Aren't you understaffed right now?"
"Hmm… To be honest, Mamoru's not someone we can openly deploy anyway, so your absence didn't cause too much trouble."
His brother shrugged. "I've been too busy to sort through your assignment requests anyway."
Normally, Mamoru handled two kinds of jobs: standard third-grade missions from the technical college, and high-level ones arranged privately by his brother.
"Busy? Is this also related with that transfer student?"
If the number of missions to exorcise cursed spirits were merely increasing, it would be fine to assign some of them to the guardians. However, many cases are difficult to keep hidden from the technical college, making it impossible to leave everything to them.
The fact that his brother couldn't rely on others likely meant it was a situation that required his direct involvement.
"His name is Yuta Okkotsu. He's a kid the higher-ups are wary of. I have to keep an eye on him, so I can't leave his side for too long. Seriously, all those old men acting smug at the top are so cowardly—it's annoying."
His brother snorted after saying that, but Mamoru couldn't bring himself to criticize the higher-ups.
"Well... if it's really as serious as you say, of course they'd be cautious. Hm, what is this feeling...? I can already tell something's off.
Mamoru, accustomed to sensing his own cursed energy from a distance, had developed sharp detection skills. The moment he entered the school building, he noticed a strange cursed energy headed in the same direction.
"As expected, you noticed it from this distance. Has your detection ability improved again?"
"It's hard not to notice something this odd. Is this the surprise you mentioned earlier?"
Even from afar, the cursed energy felt special-grade. And the fact that it wasn't being suppressed—rather, completely exposed—implied that the user couldn't control it. No wonder the higher-ups were alarmed.
"No need to rush. I'm going to introduce you anyway, so spoilers would ruin the fun."
"I'm not looking for fun."
At the very least, there was likely no major danger if his brother hadn't taken action. Still, it would be unreasonable not to feel anxious about cursed energy this intense.
"Youth is best seasoned with a touch of surprise. So—here."
With that, his brother handed him a white wig and a pair of round sunglasses, seemingly from nowhere.
"...What is this?"
"I told you—surprises are key. I need to give the students a little show."
"I thought it was strange you were wearing sunglasses. So the plan was to disguise me and mess with them."
Having known each other for years, Mamoru easily saw through his brother's intent and frowned in clear annoyance.
"You don't get it. Some of these kids are meeting each other for the first time. Being a bit playful helps break the ice. To be blunt, Mamoru, you're lacking in the fun department."
(I think you're too playful for your own good!)
Mamoru knew he wasn't the most personable, but he had no desire to imitate his brother's approach. In fact, he wished his brother would tone it down—especially at his age.
"I guess there's no other way..."
Despite complaining inwardly, Mamoru reluctantly obeyed. He was weak to his brother's whims—always grumbling, but ultimately going along with harmless pranks.
"So, what do I do?"
Mamoru asked as he donned the wig and sunglasses. Since their voices and features were already similar, the disguise made them near-identical—aside from a slight difference in height.
"Hmph. Looking at it from the outside, I really do stand out in this outfit."
Without answering the question, his brother smirked and stroked his chin. Mamoru's temple twitched with irritation. These sunglasses, if anything, made him look more suspicious.
"...Can I just go home now?"
"Come on, don't act like a kid afraid to meet new classmates."
Her tone—like a mother comforting her child—rubbed Mamoru the wrong way.
(Being lectured by someone more childish than me is just unfair.)
As Mamoru prepared to escape, an arm suddenly hooked around his shoulders.
"Relax. You don't have to do anything difficult. Just come out when I give the signal. That's all."
"Fine. Do what you want."
Too annoyed to argue further, Mamoru gave a half-hearted nod.
***
In a small classroom with just four desks, one girl, two boys, and a panda were sitting.
"Gojo-sensei, you're late."
The speaker was a timid-looking boy with black hair and a white uniform—Yuta Okkotsu. A girl with a ponytail and glasses, Maki Zenin, replied in a blunt, tomboyish tone:
"Figures. That useless teacher never shows up on time."
"Right."
"Salmon"
Panda and the white-haired boy, Toge Inumaki, nodded in agreement.
But as if to stir up gossip, the classroom door suddenly slammed open, and a tall man with white hair and sunglasses strode in.
"Good morning!"
The four of them—three humans and one panda—stared at him with skeptical expressions.
"...Who?"
"Kelp"
"Good-looking guy, Gojo Satoru-sensei!"
Apparently, without his usual blindfold and bandages—and with his hair down and sunglasses on—he was unrecognizable. Ironically, his more "normal" look made him seem even more suspicious.
"Changed up the vibe today with some shades. Let's bring the energy up!"
"I got called in early on a canceled school day. Who's bringing energy?"
Panda and Inumaki nodded beside Maki, who crossed her arms in annoyance. Okkotsu, wearing a nervous smile, tried to ease the tension.
"Um... is there really a mission today?"
"Yep. But I also have some exciting news.
I've learned a new technique."
"What, party tricks? I can juggle too, you know."
"Salmon cod roe."
"Yeah, yeah. Next time we'll try panda-ball-riding. Anyway—today's technique is… cloning!"
The four students blinked, unsure if he was joking.
Given who they were dealing with, it wasn't impossible. But it did sound like a joke.
"Wait... you're serious? You have a clone?"
"You're joking, right? If you really had one, you wouldn't hype it up this much. Having two of you would be a nightmare."
"Salmon"
Panda replied to Okkotsu's question. Inumaki nodded again.
"You guys are so mean. Whatever—just watch."
Unfazed, Gojo formed a familiar hand sign like a certain ninja manga protagonist. The students collectively rolled their eyes, convinced it was a dumb gag.
But just as he crouched behind the desk, two identical figures suddenly jumped out from behind it.
"Ta-da! Clone success! Big applause!"
Only one of the Gojo twins clapped. The students froze, unsure how to react.
Though they looked exactly alike, the second one's aura was completely different.
Standing stiffly in sunglasses, Gojo Mamoru stared off into the distance.
(What am I doing with my life…)
◆◇◆
Once the awkward silence eased, Gojo spoke again.
"What's with the lukewarm reaction? C'mon—it's a clone! You all read Jump, right? Get excited!"
"I'm a panda. I don't read human manga."
"I don't have much time for manga, honestly..."
"What?! Shonen Jump is essential education for teens! You'll be tested on it later—study up."
"...What kind of test is that?"
As the conversation derailed, Mamoru finally stepped in.
"Enough about Jump. Can we get to the point already?"
He took off the wig and sunglasses, dropping the disguise. Maki smirked, and Inumaki raised his hand slightly.
"Yup. Definitely Mamoru."
"Salmon."
"Hello. It's been a while, Maki-san, Inumaki-kun. Nice to meet you, Panda-kun."
"You guys know each other?"
Panda tilted his head. Maki pointed at Gojo.
"Yeah. That's Satoru's younger brother."
"Yeah," Okkotsu and Panda echoed in unison, flashing peace signs.
Then both turned back to Mamoru, their expressions twisting into something complex.
"Gojo-sensei's..."
"...younger brother?"
(Don't look at me like that.)
Mamoru sighed internally, unsure how to respond.
Luckily, Maki stepped in.
"Don't worry—unlike his brother, he's actually sensible."
"Hey! That makes it sound like I'm not!"
"No comment."
"Bonito flakes."
Even Inumaki crossed his arms into an X. Okkotsu looked troubled.
"That's kinda harsh..."
"Anyway, if we leave things to my brother's pace, we'll be here all day. Let me introduce myself. I'm Gojo Mamoru. I go to a different high school, but I might join you on missions in the future. Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you! I'm a panda. Wanna touch my paws?"
"Uh... sure."
Mamoru shook his hand.
(So soft...)
Even though Panda's body was artificial, his plush texture reflected Principal Yaga's obsessive craftsmanship.
"No need for formality—we already know each other."
"Bonito flakes."
"I'd love to introduce you, but all you ever say are rice ball ingredients."
Inumaki looked slightly offended. Mamoru glanced toward the last student—Okkotsu.
(Is he the source of that cursed energy?)
Even from a distance, Mamoru had sensed something was off. But now that he was face-to-face, the cursed energy felt far worse—overwhelming, even.
Still, Mamoru kept his composure and extended a hand.
"You must be Okkotsu Yuta. Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you. Wait... did I tell you my name?"
"No, I heard it from my brother."
Despite the cursed energy, Okkotsu seemed like an ordinary, shy boy.
Mamoru began to relax a little—until:
"Oh, by the way, he's the fourth special grade sorcerer."
"...Huh? He's more cursed by something than an actual sorcerer."
Sure, the power was intense, but it didn't feel like Okkotsu had control. More like he was possessed.
Mamoru couldn't help blurting out his surprise.
The other four stared at Gojo like he'd just admitted to a crime.
"Yay, prank success!"
"A prank?! Wait—are you serious?"
"Completely serious. Every word."
"...What are you doing, brother?"
There was no logical reason to give special grade status to someone so unstable.
Clearly, Gojo just wanted to mess with the higher-ups—or with Mamoru.
(How much did he not tell me just to catch me off guard…?)
"Enough with the tricks. Tell me everything about him."
"Sure, sure. But let's change locations.
Since Mamoru brought souvenirs, let's have a tea party."
Without waiting for a reply, Gojo strode out of the room.
Panda and Inumaki patted Mamoru on the shoulders as he stood there, resigned.
"Tough day, huh?"
"Mustar leaf"