From February 4th to February 9th, the four of them took up residence at the Bulgari Hotel.
This was the most carefree period Ieiri Shoko had experienced in a long time. Every day she could play games, sleep in as late as she pleased, or wander downstairs for desserts. The entire building had been thoroughly inspected by Gojo Satoru's "Six Eyes"—no danger, no other sorcerers.
The jujutsu world could not reach her; unless someone was injured to the point of clinging to their last breath, Ieiri Shoko simply acted as though she did not exist.
For once, she truly tasted the joy of winter vacation.
"Where's Asou?" Ieiri Shoko asked while binge-watching a drama, looking for someone to keep her company.
"Don't know." Getou Suguru was painstakingly arranging his hair, trying to coil his waist-length locks into a large, perfectly rounded bun.
After several days, thanks to the natural metabolism of the human body, the makeup that had seemed welded to his face had finally peeled away, restoring a measure of his youthful appearance.
"In the bedroom." Gojo Satoru was playing a horror game, intermittent bursts of laughter spilling from his mouth.
Ieiri Shoko tiptoed toward Asou Akiya's room. The door was not fully closed, as though inviting others inside. She peeked from behind the doorframe and saw that Asou Akiya was in his bedroom, reading a novel.
The black-haired boy leaned against the headboard, munching on snacks.
He made no attempt to hide his hobbies. A look of pure delight lit his face as he immersed himself in the birthday gift his classmates had given him.
"Shoko, I'm reading what you wrote."
Suddenly, Asou Akiya turned to Ieiri Shoko with a smile, his eyes bright and intent. "I never expected you to write me in as a childhood friend in your novel—helping me chase my idol, secretly giving me his photos. I'm honestly thrilled. But there's one question I'd like to ask you."
He continued, "Why is it that in the novel you're a beauty blogger and Gojo Satoru's makeup artist, I become a self-made tycoon after graduation, and Gojo Satoru is saddled with massive debt? As his fan, I exhaust myself paying off everything he owes, and in return, this guy's grand gesture is that he's willing to be a screen actor for the rest of his life?"
Ieiri Shoko stared at him in surprise. "Isn't that realistic enough? Were you expecting Gojo to become some conscientious sugar baby?"
She had clearly misunderstood Asou Akiya's meaning, and she laughed despite herself. "Aren't you dreaming a little too beautifully?"
Asou Akiya clutched his chest in mock anguish. "What I mean is, he could also be a singer, a chef, a dancer, a top scholar, a variety show comedian—we need to develop all his potential! That money should be spent where it truly counts!"
Ieiri Shoko: "..."
Asou Akiya: "He could have become an all-around ace, and yet you made him walk a single path all the way to the bitter end."
Asou Akiya sighed deeply. "What a waste."
An international superstar, just as he was about to blaze across the global stage, had fallen.
In Ieiri Shoko's novel, Gojo Satoru ultimately became a male actor free from any financial burdens.
Ieiri Shoko stamped her foot. "It's already finished. I'm not revising it. You can go read what the other two wrote—I refuse to believe theirs are any better than mine."
Asou Akiya replied, "I'm reading through them one by one. What did you need me for?"
Ieiri Shoko choked on her words. "Nothing… take your time."
She retreated.
Asou Akiya continued reading the story Ieiri Shoko had written. Setting aside the prose style, what he saw was the heart of his female classmate.
—The boy next door who could've save her family.
Asou Akiya thought to himself: [So that's how you see it? You think that because we grew up together, I would have been able to save you in time.]
The past could not be reclaimed. The knot in Ieiri Shoko's heart could only be loosened slowly, over time.
Asou Akiya made a small adjustment in his mind.
From now on, he could not underestimate Ieiri Shoko's issues. He would schedule a proper check-in once a month—let her cry if she needed to; it would be good for both body and mind.
And so, as Asou Akiya read their novels, he simultaneously analyzed the place he occupied in each of their hearts, making quiet adjustments accordingly.
Of the three stories, the most lacking in depth was undoubtedly the one written by Gojo Satoru. In that guy's version, "Star Satoru" possessed an overwhelming sense of self from beginning to end, his protagonist halo shining at full intensity, stubbornly convinced that he could resolve every difficulty through sheer ability alone.
It began with the decline of his family fortunes, progressed to him becoming a wildly adored superstar, and concluded with him traveling the world tasting fine cuisine—a textbook wish-fulfillment protagonist from start to finish.
Makeup artist? Assistant? All of them were reduced to low-presence supporting roles.
He—Gojo Satoru—was the number one superstar under heaven.
The corner of Asou Akiya's eye twitched. He felt as though he needed a magnifying glass just to find his own appearance in the novel.
[Among the crowd, a fan stands there watching me.]
[I turn my head and, sure enough, it's him again—Shoko's friend, Suguru's classmate. This guy's been my fan for ten whole years. I've heard he's even solved quite a few problems for me behind the scenes.]
[Next time we meet, I'll take a photo with him.]
[That is, if he dares to speak up. He's always watching me from behind—what is he, the reincarnation of some lingering spirit?]
[I don't dislike him.]
[After all, his eyes say he's going to be my fan for life!]
Asou Akiya slapped the draft pages over his face. He could not bear to read any further. So this was what went on inside Gojo Satoru's head?
If he truly were the exclusive private sasen fan of superstar Gojo Satoru, would Gojo Satoru still get to live so freely and swagger through life unrestrained until old age?
Did this guy honestly think that a normal person would chase a single idol for an entire lifetime, never missing a single performance, carefully building good relationships with everyone around the star—
All for the simple purpose of catching one more glimpse of Gojo Satoru?
The most terrifying thing about a sasen fan is their desire for exclusivity.
If you dare to indulge them like that, they will dare to claim your entire private life as their own.
"What, not satisfied with what I wrote?"
Gojo Satoru's voice suddenly popped up right above Asou Akiya's head—who knew when he had slipped into the bedroom.
"..." Asou Akiya silently gathered up the draft pages.
"I'm satisfied. Extremely satisfied," Asou Akiya replied tactfully. "It would just be even better if I had a few more scenes."
Gojo Satoru declared, "I'm the one and only protagonist. Of course the whole world revolves around me!"
Asou Akiya argued back, "A protagonist without supporting characters is a lonely person."
Gojo Satoru clapped his hands. "Not lonely at all."
Asou Akiya scoffed at his behavior. "Fine, fine. You're not lonely. You can conquer the world all by yourself."
Gojo Satoru's thieving hand reached toward Getou Suguru's manuscript. "What did Suguru write?"
Asou Akiya smacked his hand away. "Getou didn't agree to let you read it. You can't sneak a look at his novel."
Gojo Satoru refused to give up. "Then give me a little spoiler."
Asou Akiya shielded Getou Suguru's draft. "Go ask him yourself."
The white-haired boy wanted to peek at the manuscript and wanted Asou Akiya's permission at the same time. Half his body leaned heavily against Asou Akiya's shoulder, weighing down on him unbearably. Asou Akiya could not help baring his teeth slightly in discomfort. Just then, the phone beside him rang.
Asou Akiya answered the call. "Yaga-sensei?"
Hearing Yaga Masamichi ask where they had spirited Ieiri Shoko away to, Asou Akiya gave an honest reply.
"She's staying at a hotel with me, Gojo, and Getou. We'll be returning to school tomorrow."
"All right. School starts tomorrow—don't be late. And don't forget to report your sizes for the spring uniforms."
"Understood. Please don't worry."
"What are Gojo and Getou doing?"
"They're in a state of boredom, emotionally stable—two 'orphans' who don't want to go home."
"…You've worked hard."
"Not at all. I'm serving the class."
Asou Akiya patiently answered every small question Yaga Masamichi asked.
Regarding Zen'in Naoya's potential enrollment at Tokyo Jujutsu High, Asou Akiya also took the opportunity to inquire about next year's admissions. He received a clear reply: he would have two underclassmen next year who were not from established sorcerer families.
At the same time, Yaga Masamichi mentioned that the young head of the Zen'in clan had, for reasons unknown, requested a meeting with him. He planned to make time to visit again. If the other party failed to adopt a proper attitude, then the matter would simply have to be dropped.
Half an hour later, Asou Akiya ended the call and shoved away Gojo Satoru, who had been eavesdropping more and more shamelessly on the teacher-student conversation.
"All you know how to do is curry favor with Yaga!" Gojo Satoru complained, picking a fight. "And you're even concerned about that little rotten orange!"
"Gojo, as a student, not respecting your teacher—am I supposed to flatter you instead?" Asou Akiya replied evenly. "And he's not some 'little rotten orange.' He might be one of our underclassmen in the future."
Asou Akiya handled Gojo Satoru's unreasonable sulking with practiced ease. No matter how much the other boy disliked his attitude, it amounted to nothing more than verbal grumbling.
"You don't even bother flattering me anymore," Gojo Satoru said, dissatisfied. "You haven't made milk tea for me in ages."
Asou Akiya poked him in the forehead. "It's winter vacation. I'm off duty, Young Master Gojo."
Gojo Satoru tilted his head. "So I'll get it once school starts?"
Asou Akiya replied, "You're a second-year now. Please mature a little, Gojo. Be a little more independent. Learn to cook for yourself. In the future, you can make your own bed, fold your own blankets, wake up on time for school, and become the kind of admirable upperclassman your juniors look up to."
Gojo Satoru's eyes widened, and he blurted out in shock, "What you said to Shoko was serious? You're really planning to develop all my potential and train me into some kind of all-around sorcerer?"
"How much did the Gojo clan pay you? I'll pay double—just stop these crazy ideas. I am absolutely not going to slave away for the jujutsu world for the rest of my life!"
Asou Akiya deliberately twisted his words. "What was that? Someone wants to slave away for the jujutsu world?"
Gojo Satoru hated nothing more than having his thoughts ignored. Frost gathered across his face as anger flared.
"I'll beat you up!"
"Why do you always fall for it so easily? I was joking."
"I don't believe you."
"Believe it or not—it's your life. Who could possibly force you to choose a path you hate?"
With a single sentence, Asou Akiya sent Gojo Satoru into thought.
It made sense—yet when Gojo Satoru looked at Asou Akiya's smiling face, an inexplicable sense of uncertainty rose within him.
The sixteen-year-old black-haired boy could never quite rid himself of the "tangerine" scent Gojo Satoru had branded him with—black-bellied and cunning, a master at mental games, even more difficult to deal with than the archaic, feudalistic old "rotten tangerines" back home.
The birthday script had not only dealt damage to Getou Suguru—it had struck Gojo Satoru as well.
[Damn it… you might actually be capable of pulling that off.]
Gojo Satoru shot Asou Akiya a glare, then slipped away without admitting defeat, going to find Suguru to form a "Birthday Victims Alliance."
"Suguru, we have to get revenge on his next birthday," Gojo Satoru whispered conspiratorially.
"…," Getou Suguru's expression darkened. Gojo, with you as a teammate, our chances of success are truly slim.
—Because you've switched sides more than once already!