The walk to Jujutsu High had become second nature by now.
Roy hummed quietly to himself as he climbed the stone steps leading up to the training grounds, hands tucked in the pockets of his loose purple trousers.
His hoodie swayed with each step, faint traces of cursed energy still clinging to his knuckles after his earlier exorcism.
For all the strange new routines in his life, one had become a constant, Gojo waiting for him.
"Yooo, Roy! Over here!"
Sure enough, Gojo was already in the training yard, standing with his hands in his pockets, his blindfold pushed just slightly askew as if to peek at his pupil.
Roy jogged over, a grin on his face.
"Hey, Gojo-sensei."
Gojo tilted his head.
"Sensei? Ooh, getting formal, are we? Careful, you might actually make me feel like a teacher."
He stretched lazily, his tone shifting a notch lower.
"But don't think that'll save you today. We're skipping the flashy cursed techniques. Today's all about fists, kicks, and the fun of smashing your face into the dirt. You ready?"
Roy pumped his fists in mock bravado, his golden-orange eyes gleaming.
"Always!"
Gojo chuckled.
"That's the spirit. Now come at me."
Roy dashed forward first, his steps light but full of energy.
He swung a quick jab toward Gojo's ribs, only to find his wrist snared effortlessly.
Gojo twisted it aside, forcing Roy to stumble forward.
Without missing a beat, Roy snapped his leg back in a roundhouse kick.
Gojo leaned just out of reach, the breeze of the strike tugging at his white hair.
"Better. You're not hesitating anymore,"
Gojo noted.
Roy gritted his teeth and went again, chaining punches together in a flurry.
Gojo blocked with casual palms, slipping around the blows as if dancing.
Every time Roy thought he'd landed one, Gojo's elbow redirected his arm or his shoulder bumped Roy off balance.
Roy ducked suddenly, sweeping his leg low.
Gojo hopped lightly over it, smirking.
Roy followed up with a straight punch aimed at his chest.
This time, Gojo let it connect, but instead of staggering, he turned with the impact and brought his forearm down, knocking Roy flat on his back.
"Gah!"
Roy winced, rolling away just in time to avoid Gojo's playful stomp.
He kicked himself up onto his feet, sweat beginning to bead at his brow.
"Good recovery."
Gojo said lightly,
"But your center of gravity's still too high. You've got good instincts, Roy, but instincts need a foundation."
Roy lunged again, throwing a combination, jab, elbow, knee.
Gojo parried, deflected, redirected.
It was like trying to fight a tide that never broke.
Still, Roy pushed, his strikes sharper, his movements tighter than the month before.
Eventually, though, his body betrayed him.
His breath grew ragged, his arms heavy, his legs sluggish.
Gojo slipped behind him, hooked an arm around his neck, and gently lowered him to the ground as if tucking him in.
Roy sprawled out, chest heaving, staring at the clouds.
"Man…"
He panted,
"You don't… hold back at all."
Gojo crouched nearby, tossing something lightly in the air.
"Here, catch."
Roy barely had time to raise his hand before the cold plastic smacked into his palm, a sports drink.
He popped it open instantly, chugging half of it with greedy gulps.
Gojo grinned. "Refreshing, huh? That's your reward for not giving up."
Roy wiped his mouth, sitting up against the wall.
"Guess so… but man, I'm beat."
"Good. That's how training should feel."
Gojo leaned back on his hands, his tone growing more curious.
"So, Roy. How you feeling? Enrollment's not far now. Excited? Nervous?"
Roy tapped the bottle against his knee, his grin softening.
"Both, I think. I mean… I've been given this insane chance, right? Part of me can't wait. But another part of me… doesn't wanna screw it up."
Gojo's grin widened beneath the blindfold.
"Don't sweat it. With that technique of yours, it's not a matter of if, it's when. Special Grade sorcerer in the making. That's you."
Roy laughed, shaking his head. "I'll… try my best."
*
The two of them tidied the training grounds together, Gojo sweeping with exaggerated laziness while Roy muttered about doing most of the work.
Not long after, they found themselves sitting in a booth at a small burger shack downtown, the neon sign buzzing faintly above them.
Roy glanced at Gojo, raising a brow.
"Gojo, you sure you got time for this? Aren't you a teacher?"
Gojo waved him off with a fry.
"Naaah. No students to babysit right now. That's why I've got all the time in the world to train you and Megumi."
"Ohh, I see then."
Roy grinned, digging into his double burger.
"Lucky me."
They ate, joked, and talked like a mismatched pair of brothers rather than teacher and student. For Roy, it felt… normal. And that normalcy was something he hadn't realized he'd missed until now.
But outside their little bubble of warmth and grease, stained wrappers, whispers were spreading.
In the upper halls of the Jujutsu Society, the rumors had already begun.
A boy under Gojo's wing.
A strange new technique.
A potential Special Grade, still unranked but climbing fast.
And not only sorcerers were listening.
Curses and curse users alike had begun to take notice.