Once the curse was fully assimilated, Minamoto Soujun dressed himself properly. His loose hair gathered on its own, a single strand looping around to tie it neatly behind him.
Now he wore the Jujutsu High uniform, clearly marking his identity.
"Should I introduce myself?" Soujun greeted the group with a smile. "I'm Minamoto Soujun, a bounty sorcerer from Jujutsu High. I was assigned to assist with your report."
He switched to Yaga Masamichi's tone: "You always forget to file reports before acting—sensei knows you too well!"
Since they were all Yaga's students, technically they should call him senpai.
The group looked awkward at his words.
Suguru Geto stepped forward, glancing around with a puzzled expression. "And where's your report?"
Soujun pointed at the sky. Their eyes followed.
Snap.
A glassy barrier appeared in midair, shattering like crystal and scattering into nothing.
Soujun clapped his hands. "Mission complete! See you back at school!"
His goals here were already met—the report filed, the curse taken. He hadn't expected much from that curse anyway, and now he was even more disappointed.
Without caring about what the others thought, his figure twisted and reappeared by the roadside.
He opened the car door and got in.
The others froze, only then realizing—the mission was already over, and the curse had been taken.
Utahime still fumed at being ignored earlier. Muttering under her breath, she said, "Another self-centered guy…"
Whir.
The car window slid down.
"I heard that, Utahime," Soujun said, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the window frame. He looked back at them. "The car has room for three. Anyone want a ride?"
Utahime stiffened, stepping back. She valued hierarchy deeply—he looked so mature, he must be a senpai.
Still seething over Gojo Satoru's antics, she had let her emotions slip and unfairly taken it out on someone else.
All that idiot's fault.
Her dislike for Gojo only grew heavier.
"Me!" Mei Mei raised her hand and slid into the passenger seat. She glanced at Soujun. "You're not charging a fare, are you?"
Soujun turned his head away.
Tch.
He had wanted to earn a little.
Money was tight lately. The costs of buying bio-organic materials on the black market were steep, and certain things weren't available through normal channels…
"Of course it's free. We're all from Jujutsu High. Out in the field, we should help each other."
He forced a smile.
Geto and Shoko Ieri quickly claimed the back seats.
That left only Utahime—who detested Gojo—and Gojo himself, who constantly did things to make people detest him.
The car sped off, Soujun waving at the two left behind. The others in the car waved as well, smiling.
"See you at school."
"We're heading off first."
"Bye-bye."
Dust kicked up behind them.
"You guys! Wait, I—" Utahime's shout faded into nothing.
"Ah, Utahime, we've been abandoned," Gojo sighed, clenching his fists. He regretted not reacting faster—he should have used his technique.
"I am not lumped in with you!" Utahime yelled, storming off without another glance.
…
In a classroom at Jujutsu High—
Geto, Gojo, Shoko, and Soujun knelt on the floor. Yaga Masamichi sat at the front, glaring fiercely at all… four of them.
"One of you said, 'I'll handle the report myself,' then ran off without the supervisor, right?" Yaga leaned forward, pressing down on them with sheer presence. "And then forgot to do it! Wasting our already thin manpower to clean up your mess. Who was it? Own up."
Geto and Shoko both pointed at Gojo.
Gojo raised his hand weakly. "Sensei, can't we stop playing detective?"
"So it was you." Yaga looked unsurprised and slammed a fist down on his head.
Soujun puffed up proudly. He was the manpower who had cleaned up, though "wiping butts" was a strange way to phrase it. He raised his hand. "I filed the report. No worries."
"Oh? No worries?" Yaga rubbed his temples. "Unlicensed driving, highway speeding, left later than the second-years yet arrived earlier—and you want me to relax?"
I only said I'd hurry and arrive before them. But wasn't that a bit too fast?
Soujun hunched down, shrinking his presence.
"Hmph! Reflect on your actions!"
The four showed sincere repentance—but anyone who knew them understood what that meant: admitting mistakes didn't mean changing. Next time, they'd do it again. Yaga sighed, disappointed, then stormed out, leaving them to reflect.
Bang.
The classroom door slammed shut, its force betraying Yaga's frustration.
Three heads bowed in unison. Soujun had already risen to lounge on a chair nearby.
"Is the report really that important?" Gojo finally muttered in annoyance. "Ordinary people can't even see curses or sorcery. Report or not, what difference does it make?"
Shoko ignored him, fiddling with his sunglasses.
Soujun leaned back in his chair, its legs creaking under his weight, fingers laced behind his head.
By now, he'd realized the truth—this mission wasn't really about promotion. It was Yaga arranging introductions.
He could have been promoted to Grade 1 long ago. After the cursed womb mission, he had already met the requirements.
His thoughts wandered, uninterested in the discussion.
"Of course it's important," Geto explained patiently. He didn't want his friend's thinking to warp. "The best way to suppress curses is to keep people's hearts calm. That's why we hide invisible threats, as much as possible. Not only that—"
"Yeah, yeah. Always worrying about the weak. What a drag." Gojo sprawled on the floor, making his kneeling more comfortable.
"Listen, Gojo. 'Survival of the weak'—that's the proper order of society." Geto's tone sharpened, his volume rising. He fixed Gojo with a serious stare. "Sorcerers exist to protect non-sorcerers!"
"Forcing meaning and responsibility onto sorcery itself? That's weakness," Gojo waved a hand dismissively. He didn't care about the reasoning or Geto's anger, only grinning provocatively.
"What… did you say?" Geto's eyes lowered.
Gojo stood, feigning a retch. "Blegh. Stop preaching from your pedestal, will you?"
"Outside. Fight me, Gojo!" Geto roared.
The two faced off, cursed energy surging, pressure flooding the room. Behind Geto, faint curse images flickered.
Shoko darted out, unwilling to be caught in the crossfire.
Soujun watched with interest, completely unbothered by their clash. He almost wanted to clap and cheer Geto on—stay sharp, don't lose face.
In the end, of course, they didn't fight.
Cre-eak.
The door slid open. Yaga Masamichi returned.
At once, both Gojo and Geto sat back down, kneeling primly like obedient students.
…
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