In the hallway of Sobu High School, the sharp click of heels echoed rhythmically.
Hiratsuka Shizuka walked briskly toward the second-year J classroom, a stack of lesson notes in one hand and a deep sigh escaping her lips.
Originally, I was just another faculty member… so why do I feel like I'm turning into a model teacher these days?
She rubbed her temple.
"Ugh… that guy. Substituting for him every single day…" she muttered irritably.
Of course, she meant Satoru Gojo, the so-called "handsome teacher" — a man who somehow managed to combine genius-level ability with god-tier laziness.
Every day, he was either sleeping in the faculty room, vanishing mid-class, or inventing new ways to avoid doing any actual teaching.
The woman's brow twitched.
Honestly… who gave this man a teaching license? Oh right—he just showed up one day and the principal didn't dare say no.
Shizuka reached for the classroom door.
Just as her fingers brushed the handle, she froze.
Loud, overlapping voices spilled into the hallway.
"I've got a three-belt hand, who wants it?"
"It's not about the teacher, I'm with your family! How are you even playing this?"
"Doesn't matter, trust me, I'll win for sure!"
"Hey! I want to—just enough to beat you, teacher!"
"Oh? Getting a little cocky, huh? I see you trying to challenge me!"
"…."
Shizuka's mouth twitched. She recognized that voice anywhere — that carefree, mocking tone belonged to one person and one person only.
Gojo…
Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open.
The scene that greeted her nearly made her drop her notes.
The classroom, usually tidy and orderly, looked like a festival aftermath — Desks were dragged into odd formations; students were gathered in a crowd around a table like gamblers at a casino. Four of them were seated, cards in hand, faces tense.
Hayato Hayama and Tobe Sho had sticky notes plastered all over their faces like bizarre battle masks.
Meanwhile, Kiritani Ren and Hito Iura, the more composed ones, only had one note each.
And at the center of it all sat Gojo Satoru—no, Umaru Gojo—perched on his chair like a smug king, sunglasses dangling from his collar, no notes on his face whatsoever.
"Three J with three… not playing it, teacher?" Tobe asked proudly, eyes glinting.
Gojo smirked. "Cut, that's it."
He threw four cards onto the table.
"Bomb."
The class collectively gasped.
"Ohhh—"
"I can't afford it!"
"I told you, don't challenge him! He's holding bombs every game!"
"I… I don't know, Hayato, maybe I can still—"
"Forget it! Watch me take you down this time, teacher!" Hayato snapped, slamming his cards dramatically.
His eyes were filled with the burning passion of a man who had lost one too many rounds.
"Four A's!"
"Ha! I can't afford that either!" someone shouted from the crowd.
"Then I'll continue," Gojo grinned, sliding another set of cards across the table. "Junko."
Hayato clenched his jaw.
He was down to his final card now. Excitement and anxiety flashed in his eyes as he lifted it dramatically.
"No one wants it? No one? Fine, I'll—three, two, one—"
"Who said no one wants it?"
Gojo's left hand shot up, and in a swirl of cursed energy, a grotesque Yan Yi mask appeared over his face.
{For them it appear out of nowhere, he did this trick too many times so they are not surprised?}
The class gasped in awe and horror as he slammed down his last two cards with theatrical flair.
"Uhhahaha!"
"AHHHHHHHH!"
Sho Tobe screamed in defeat, nearly falling out of his chair.
Hayato groaned, covering his face.
They were out of sticky notes to punish the losers, and yet Gojo showed no mercy.
"Teacher… you're amazing!" Kiritani Ren exclaimed, eyes wide in admiration.
Hito Iura nodded, barely holding back laughter.
"He's like… unbeatable. Even cheating won't help."
Gojo grinned, rising from his chair dramatically. "Hahaha! Who am I? I am the unbeatable god!"
The class burst into cheers and laughter—until suddenly a familiar chill spread through the air.
Silence fell.
"Sensei…" whispered Yumiko Miura, tugging at his sleeve. "Hiratsuka-sensei is here."
Gojo's grin froze.
Slowly, he turned his head—in a robotic manned.
Standing at the doorway, arms crossed, hair shadowing her eyes, was Hiratsuka Shizuka—the very image of divine wrath.
Gojo coughed lightly. "Ah, Shizuka, good afternoon."
"...what?"
Her fist cracked audibly as it turned black with cursed energy.
"I'll kill you where you stand!!"
"Don't!!!"
"Please wait!!"
The class exploded into panic.
Desks and chairs flew back into place at record speed as everyone scrambled to make the room look "normal."
Gojo, however, was not fast enough.
BANG!
A single punch sent him crashing into the chalkboard, his sunglasses flying off and landing perfectly upright on the teacher's desk.
The room went dead silent.
"…Sensei? You're not dead, right?" Ichihana asked, poking him cautiously.
Gojo suddenly sat up, brushing chalk dust off his uniform, striking a pose.
"Don't worry. I'm fine. Just a… mild concussion."
Shizuka rolled her eyes.
"A concussion? After that punch, you should be in the afterlife by now."
Ichihana stifled a laugh behind her hand.
The sight was absurd—Gojo acting completely nonchalant while everyone else stood in awe of his sheer durability.
He can take a beating!!
"Alright," Shizuka said finally, exhaling through her nose. "You can stop pretending. Explain yourself. What was that card game supposed to be?"
"Ah… well…" Gojo scratched the back of his head, putting on his best — innocent teacher — face. "Team bonding activity?"
Shizuka's eyes twitched. "Bonding activity?"
"Yep! You know, promoting healthy competition between teacher and students, morale building, etcetera. It's totally part of the modern curriculum!"
Before she could respond, Gojo casually backed toward the door.
"Well, I'd love to explain more, Shizuka-sensei, but I suddenly remembered I have another… urgent assignment!"
And before anyone could blink, he was gone—slipping out like a ghost.
"GOJO!" Shizuka roared, but the hallway was already empty.
....
A few minutes later—
Outside, under the shade of a small pavilion near the courtyard, Gojo exhaled dramatically, brushing imaginary dust from his uniform.
"Phew… morning chaos avoided. Barely." He scrolled through his phone. "Now, lunch… what was Shizuka's order again? Ugh, such a hassle."
Just then, the bell rang, signaling lunch break.
Students poured out of the classrooms like a tidal wave, chatting, laughing, some heading toward the cafeteria, others under the trees.
Gojo stuffed his phone back into his pocket, lazily leaning against a pillar. His sharp eyes scanned the crowd, and then—he spotted them.
Two figures walking side by side.
One, a girl with long auburn hair tied neatly behind her ear, wearing an expression that screamed confidence — Akane Mikawa. Known for her sharp wit, piercing eyes, and no-nonsense attitude, she was one of Sobu High's "untouchables."
Beside her walked a boy with calm, steady eyes and a composed demeanor — Narumi Narukai, a name whispered often by students for his mysterious calmness and rumored connection to Benio Adashino, the exorcist from the Eastern Branch Academy.
Gojo grinned.
"Well, well… look who we have here," he murmured, his voice tinged with amusement. "This should be fun."
As the two passed by, Akane glanced his way, her expression flat.
"Skipping class again, Gojo-sensei?" she asked dryly.
"Not skipping, multitasking," he replied smoothly, flashing a grin. "Observing student behavior during lunch—very important for my… uh… research."
Narumi sighed, shaking his head. "You're unbelievable."
"Thank you. I take that as a compliment," Gojo replied, tipping his sunglasses down just enough to wink.
Akane rolled her eyes, walking away with Narumi in tow.
Gojo stretched, letting the sunlight warm his face.
"Man… this school really doesn't give me a break," he muttered. "And the day's just getting started."
He smiled faintly, his fingers flicking an invisible thread of cursed energy into the air.
Maybe this world really is too peaceful… Time to spice it up a little.
...
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