Monday, February 14th.
"My foolish son actually wants to go to school?"
Inside the head of the Zen'in family's private room, a burst of hearty laughter suddenly rang out.
Three days earlier, when Zen'in Naoya had gone to Tokyo Jujutsu High to tour the campus, Zen'in Naobito had shown no reaction. However, when the sample school uniforms from Tokyo Jujutsu High were delivered and a servant reported that Young Master Naoya was trying them on, the nature of the matter changed entirely.
Zen'in Naoya had actually agreed to attend Tokyo Jujutsu High—a school primarily meant for commoners.
"Have Naoya wear the uniform and come see me."
Zen'in Naobito stepped out of his room and gave the order to a servant. Inside the room, left with the door ajar, a Valentine's Day film was playing.
The servant accepted the command and hurried off.
The phrase "old in years but young at heart" perfectly described the twenty-sixth head of the Zen'in family.
His cursed technique was closely tied to the modern era, and as a result, he maintained a keen interest in animation production, cinematography, and film. Unlike the elderly members of the other Great Clans, he did not ignore developments in the outside world.
The only thing that had never changed was his lack of interest in ordinary people in reality. Even toward the American-style heroes who saved the world in movies, he merely adopted the attitude of an amused spectator. The one thing he truly loved throughout his life was fine liquor.
Under his influence, his youngest legitimate son, Zen'in Naoya, had grown exceptionally driven and had never once slackened in his training.
Because when Zen'in Naoya was very young, Zen'in Naobito had taught him both through words and example:
"In the Zen'in family, strength reigns supreme."
If you desire status and position, then become stronger.
If you want the right to inherit the position of the next clan head, then become the strongest within the family!
Zen'in Naobito was not the indulgent, doting type of father. Toward sons of mediocre aptitude, he largely adopted a laissez-faire attitude, paying only occasional attention to those who showed some ambition and possessed talent for cursed techniques.
By the time Zen'in Naoya was born, Zen'in Naobito was already in his forties. Moreover, the timing of Naoya's birth was delicate in a way that compelled Naobito to invest even greater expectations in him.
On the one hand, he needed an heir. On the other hand, after the birth of the "Six Eyes," the Zen'in family had yet to produce a new wielder of the "Ten Shadows Technique."
Back in the Edo period, the head of the Zen'in family and the head of the Gojo family had perished together, and the enmity between the two clans had endured for centuries. Zen'in Naoya, who was one year younger than Gojo Satoru, had at that time become the focus of immense hope within the Zen'in household.
Both were born into the main line. Both were children of the legitimate wife.
The possibility that Zen'in Naoya might inherit the "Ten Shadows Technique" was magnified without limit.
After the age of six, however, the technique Naoya awakened was "Projection Sorcery." Although Zen'in Naobito felt disappointment, he did not reveal it. Instead, he cheerfully made his stance clear to everyone: I have a successor.
Standing there with his gaze fixed ahead, Zen'in Naobito waited lazily for his youngest son to appear, a dark-colored yukata draped loosely over his shoulders. He muttered to himself:
"Although it's not the 'Ten Shadows Technique,' this boy has inherited my technique. In the absence of the 'Ten Shadows Technique'… he has the greatest likelihood of inheriting the family estate."
To be honest, Zen'in Naobito disliked the Gojo family, and he disliked Gojo Satoru—both were constant sources of pressure.
He rarely enacted sweeping reforms. The Zen'in family had long since solidified into its present form; only a sorcerer of extraordinary, rule-breaking caliber would have the authority to alter its trajectory. Simply maintaining the family enterprise was already more than enough of a headache.
Thus, he chose to treat the Gojo family with a genial smile, unwilling to stir up unnecessary complications. Without the "Ten Shadows Technique," the Zen'in family was destined not to provoke Gojo Satoru.
Now that Zen'in Naoya intended to enroll at Tokyo Jujutsu High, it signified that the "future" of the Zen'in family might be shifting.
Whether this change would prove beneficial or detrimental, he could not yet discern. It was necessary to see his youngest son's attitude with his own eyes.
If the attitude was poor, he would offer a measured reprimand. If the attitude was satisfactory, it might well represent a turning point.
Twenty minutes later, Zen'in Naoya finally shuffled his way over to see his father, moving with deliberate slowness as though every extra second were an act of quiet resistance.
The black-haired youngest son was no longer dressed in traditional kimono. His straight, silky hair framed a finely featured face that now wore an unmistakably reluctant expression.
He was dressed in a high-collared layered top designed to look like two pieces worn together, paired with specially tailored high-waisted, pleated wide-leg trousers. This particular cut of trousers demanded an exceptionally well-proportioned figure; on most people, they would fail to evoke any sense of classical elegance. Yet on him, the effect was striking. In an instant, the fifteen-year-old seemed to shed the feudal aura of a Taishō-era clan heir and instead take on the air of a contemporary high school student straight out of a currently trending television drama.
Zen'in Naobito did not scold him. Instead, he rolled his eyes and said flatly, "Could you try to be a little more efficient?"
Zen'in Naoya complained, "I just changed into the sample uniform, and it doesn't even fit properly yet. I was about to have a tailor take my measurements when you suddenly sent someone to summon me. Have you planted informants in my courtyard or something?"
Zen'in Naobito replied offhandedly, "I am the head of this household. The entire Zen'in estate serves as my network of informants."
Zen'in Naoya conceded the point without further protest. He spread his arms and strutted in a slow circle in front of his father, deliberately showing off.
"Dad, don't I look handsome enough?"
"Passable," Zen'in Naobito answered.
He took a sip of liquor from the gourd in his hand and cast a sidelong glance at his son, who was preening like a peacock in full display within the family estate.
On the surface, the relationship between father and son had always appeared harmonious. It was not the rigid dynamic of superior and subordinate; in private, their exchanges were essentially conducted as equals.
That dynamic had its advantages and its disadvantages. The advantage was that the son did not fear his father. The disadvantage was that the son frequently pushed his luck and overstepped his bounds.
For example, right now—
Zen'in Naoya said, "Dad, I'm going to start school. Give me some spending money first."
Zen'in Naobito looked at him in astonishment, slowly sizing him up from head to toe. So this brat actually knew that students needed pocket money while attending school?
Zen'in Naoya's face darkened as he shot back, "Weren't you the one who dragged me into binge-watching Boys Over Flowers with you?"
Boys Over Flowers had been a massive hit in Japan the previous year. The nine-episode drama told the story of a commoner girl who transferred into an elite academy for the wealthy and powerful, weaving a romance set against a backdrop of privilege and hierarchy. For Zen'in Naoya, it had unexpectedly served as an educational crash course on how ordinary schools operated.
In the series, Eitoku Academy was an ultra-elite institution established by four great families for the sole purpose of cultivating their heirs.
As a result, the descendants of those four families occupied an untouchable position within the school; no one dared to oppose them. The female protagonist was the only person bold enough to challenge their authority.
"F4" referred to four high school boys of extraordinary family backgrounds and influence. The male lead, Tsukasa Domyoji, was described as being "almost omnipotent." Whatever he desired, he would claim for himself without hesitation, and he habitually referred to himself with the arrogant pronoun "ore-sama"—a grandiose "this great me."
Zen'in Naoya seamlessly inserted the situation of the jujutsu world into that framework. "Dad, there's no Eitoku Academy in real life, but there is Kyoto Jujutsu High and Tokyo Jujutsu High. If you round things up a little, Tokyo Jujutsu High can be considered a school established with the backing of the Three Great Clans."
Zen'in Naobito listened, momentarily stunned, and—rare for him—did not immediately refute the logic.
That kind of "rounding up" was something else… it neatly erased the existence of the Jujutsu Headquarters from the equation altogether.
Zen'in Naoya continued confidently, his tone brimming with conviction. "Gojo and I are the young masters of the Three Great Clans. There aren't four great families in reality—only three. So in fact, our status surpasses that of the F4 in the drama. F4 had Tsukasa Domyoji as their leader; I also acknowledge Gojo as the one at the forefront. Domyoji received between 300,000 and 500,000 yen in monthly allowance. I want double that—one million yen!"
In the past, whenever Zen'in Naoya went out, servants handled all payments on his behalf, and he had little understanding of actual prices outside the estate. Yet through one wildly popular television drama in Japan, he had successfully constructed a tailor-made template for his own student life.
He truly was a genius in his own estimation—no difficulty could possibly stump him.
Zen'in Naoya was so pleased with himself that it was as if an invisible fox tail had sprung up behind him, wagging proudly. Didn't he see the look of shock on his father's face?
"One million a month? Yen?"
Zen'in Naobito nearly spat out a mouthful of liquor.
"Hey, hey—other students go to Tokyo Jujutsu High to exorcise curses and earn their own way. And you're asking the family for money?" Zen'in Naobito did not agree outright. Instead, he deftly shifted the subject. "Naoya, do you even know the rules during the school term?"
"I know," Zen'in Naoya replied promptly. "No bringing servants. No being late. And no wearing clothes from home."
Zen'in Naobito stroked his beard and deliberately put on a show of hesitation. "Isn't one million yen a bit excessive? How about five hundred thousand yen instead…?"
Zen'in Naoya immediately bristled. "How is that too much?!"
He protested indignantly, "Are you saying I'm not even worth as much as a fictional male lead in a television drama?!"
Seeing that the timing was about right, Zen'in Naobito decided to offer a few pointed reminders. "I'm worried you won't be able to endure hardship. You'll be late every day, completely lacking any sense of time. After barely two days at school, you'll get beaten up by Gojo Satoru, then come running home in tears to complain to me."
A faint chill ran down Zen'in Naoya's spine, but he stubbornly held his ground. "Gojo is a reasonable person. He wouldn't hit me without cause."
He spread his hands. "At worst, I'll just make sure to get to class on time."
Zen'in Naobito let out a long sigh toward the heavens. "Since you insist… so be it. The family supports your learning to live independently at an earlier stage. As your father, I will provide one million yen per month from my private funds as your allowance. Let us establish a Binding Vow: the term shall be one year. You may only receive the allowance if you do not skip classes, and barring exceptional circumstances, you are not permitted to withdraw from school this year."
Muttering, "What a hassle," Zen'in Naoya nonetheless formed the Binding Vow between sorcerers with his father.
The two of them thus settled the arrangements for his schooling that year, along with the amount of his monthly allowance.
Zen'in Naobito immediately waved him off in mock annoyance. "Go on, go on. I don't want to see you anymore, you little spendthrift."
"One day this family will be mine!" Zen'in Naoya stormed off indignantly.
Not long after, the courtyard of the Zen'in clan head rang with Zen'in Naobito's booming laughter—"Hahaha!"—as cursed energy trembled through the air, pressing down so heavily that even the pine branches in the dry landscape garden bent under the force.
The servants looked on in confusion at their lord, who was laughing with unrestrained delight.
Zen'in Naobito wiped away tears at the corners of his eyes, brought on by laughter. "It's been a long time since I've been this happy."
The last time something had made him laugh from the bottom of his heart was when his youngest son, at the age of ten, had come running to him declaring that "Brother Toji" was extraordinarily powerful—stronger than anyone else in the family.
His youngest son had just demanded an allowance of one million yen per month?
Zen'in Naobito not only felt no sting at the thought of the expense, he even walked back to his room with light, almost buoyant steps, switched off the animation that had been playing, pulled up Boys Over Flowers, and said with a cheerful grin, "Naoya, you really ought to go out and see more of the world."
The old fox of the Zen'in clan, who loved his liquor above all else, had only one thought in mind: I just hope he doesn't get so angry that he ends up in tears.
A father teasing his son was only natural.
After setting up Zen'in Naoya with that little "trap," Zen'in Naobito made a small gesture of compensation in regard to accommodations. That very day, he issued a second order:
"Send someone to inquire at Tokyo Jujutsu High where Naoya's dormitory is located. Have it renovated in advance."
There was fatherly affection involved—but not much. Just enough to count.
That afternoon, members of the Zen'in clan arrived at the school. The one leading the group stepped forward and lightly knocked on the door of Gojo Satoru's dormitory room.
The door was opened by Akiya. It was the afternoon practical training session, and he had returned early under the guidance of two soon-to-be special grade sorcerers.
Standing before several representatives of the Zen'in family, Aso Akiya carried himself with natural composure, as though he were half the owner of the dormitory himself. Behind him, Getou Suguru was in hot pursuit of Gojo Satoru. Earlier that day, Getou had captured a "Valentine's Day limited edition" pink-toned cursed spirit.
It possessed no innate technique; it simply loved to kiss.
This cursed spirit had been born from the resentment and curse of "being unable to receive a burning, passionate kiss." Its form was grotesquely twisted, composed of multiple oversized human heads adorned with blazing red lips. Its defining trait was to latch onto popular individuals and relentlessly smother them with kisses.
Even though Gojo Satoru's Limitless technique kept most things at bay, being entangled by such a revolting cursed spirit was still explosively unpleasant.
Unwilling to unleash a large-scale technique and risk destroying his own dorm room, he could only desperately dodge the cursed spirit's assaults.
"It's so ugly—aaah!! Getou! Make that curse go away!"
Against the backdrop of chaotic shrieking, Asou Akiya stepped outside and asked in a friendly tone, "Gentlemen, may I ask what brings you here?"
The Zen'in clan's higher-ranking messenger bowed respectfully.
"Our young master will be enrolling this year. May we ask where his dormitory is located?"
"You'll find it over there."
Asou Akiya pointed toward a section of the grounds that no one ever bothered with.
In the boys' dormitory, the only space that could possibly be assigned to Zen'in Naoya would certainly be the most secluded corner—the one least likely to disturb, or be disturbed by, anyone else.
The Zen'in clan's representatives glanced at the scene behind him: the cursed spirit manipulator laughing wildly as he directed his grotesque creation, and the white-haired boy darting frantically between pieces of furniture to evade it. A collective shiver ran down their spines, and none of them dared raise an objection.
They thanked Asou Akiya for the information and hurried toward the indicated corner. Only when they drew closer did the corners of their eyes twitch in disbelief… The abandoned dormitory room did not even have a door.
"The clan head instructed us to abide by the school's rules. It will be this one. We will renovate it properly."
"Yes."
The Zen'in clan promptly arranged for a construction crew to move into the school.
Nearby, the oppressive aura created by the rampaging cursed spirit continued to make the Zen'in representatives tremble with unease.
They could not help thinking: Young Master Naoya, what possessed you to insist on attending the same school as the 'Six Eyes' and the 'Curse Spirit Manipulator'?
The outside world might not necessarily be better than the Zen'in estate.
Inside Gojo Satoru's dormitory room, Asou Akiya closed the door and turned around, showing not the slightest intention of stopping Getou Suguru.
After all, the cursed spirit could not actually land a kiss—so what was there to panic about?
He walked into the kitchen and began preparing an overwhelmingly sweet white chocolate milk tea for the two of them.
In his pocket, the love letter he had commissioned from Mei Mei seemed almost to radiate heat, and her earlier words echoed in his ears.
"I can write it, and you can provide the content—but the interest rate goes up by one percent."
Asou Akiya had agreed without hesitation.
He hoped that, in the years to come, Gojo Satoru would receive a love letter from a girl every Valentine's Day.
Because Gojo Satoru had not been treated particularly well in the world of Jujutsu Kaisen, where Japanese society did not favor men who were so lively and so lacking in a sense of distance, many of his rare and hard-to-find virtues had been regarded as flaws instead, and this had left him with a faint trace of dissatisfaction.
He had long been preparing the matter of asking Miss Mei Mei to write a love letter on his behalf, yet today, after seeing the DKs who had gone out for practical training enjoying themselves so freely, and seeing that Gojo Satoru did not care in the slightest about the admiring gazes of the girls, he found himself hesitating.
Such outstanding classmates—while walking down the street, it was not as though no girls stepped forward to show their interest, and yet they treated it all as if they had seen nothing, smiling as they dismissed strangers, only competing in private over who had managed to obtain more phone numbers.
This love letter… was it truly something that Gojo Satoru needed?
Had he meddled again where he should not have?
A teenage boy in the midst of puberty, with his desk piled high with love letters, would of course feel happy.
But what if, in the future, he were to find out that every single one of them had been commissioned by his classmates?
Would he feel hurt?
Would he think that he lacked charm?
No—Gojo Satoru should remain forever confident and proud, forever radiant and dazzling.
Asou Akiya pondered this for a long time. By the time he finished preparing the milk tea, the noisy commotion behind him had also fallen silent for a while.
[Tokyo Jujutsu High Whispering Duo]
[Getou Suguru: Satoru, what do you think he's thinking about?]
Outside the kitchen, Getou Suguru and Gojo Satoru communicated in secret through their phones, not daring to make a sound, afraid that speaking aloud would cause them to miss the chance to observe Asou Akiya's unusual behavior.
[Gojo Satoru: No idea!]
As he sent the reply, his gaze repeatedly swept toward Asou Akiya's trouser pocket.
[Getou Suguru: It's Valentine's Day. Does he have a girl he likes?]
Getou Suguru was a DK with perfectly normal emotional intelligence; he had not overlooked Asou Akiya's abnormality. The signs were far too obvious to ignore, and Asou Akiya was extremely popular both inside and outside the school.
[Gojo Satoru: Impossible!]
[Getou Suguru: Tsk, he's adding a lot of sugar to the milk tea.]
[Gojo Satoru: Suguru, I'm troubled over something. What if someone confesses to me? Help me think of some rejection lines, like— I know I'm handsome, but I'm not a man you can covet?]
[Getou Suguru: Ugh! Who? Someone from Tokyo Jujutsu High?]
[Gojo Satoru: Yeah.]
[Getou Suguru: Good grief, who's blind enough to confess to you!!]
[Gojo Satoru: ...]
Suguru, isn't my hint obvious enough?!
Gojo Satoru began to grow awkward and fidgety, hemming and hawing for a long time without daring to say a single name.
An intense wave of disgust rose within Getou Suguru. His fingers twitched, and he directed the pink-hued cursed spirit that had rendered meritorious service today to drift closer to Gojo Satoru. The moment it approached, Gojo was instantly provoked, and he began cursing Suguru's behavior furiously in the group chat.
When Gojo Satoru turned his gaze back toward Asou Akiya, the "Six Eyes" flashed with a brilliant yet icy gleam.
He had not done it on purpose—he had merely "accidentally" noticed that inside Asou Akiya's pocket there was a folded pink love letter.
On the envelope, the name "Gojo Satoru" was written clearly.
On the one hand, Gojo Satoru felt that Asou Akiya must be eighty percent out of his mind today, secretly keeping a love letter addressed to him; on the other hand, he thought, as expected of me—wherever I go, there will always be admirers. If only, among the people who liked him… the ratio of men to women could be more evenly balanced!
A few minutes later—
After a fierce internal struggle, Asou Akiya let out a sigh and took out his phone to send a message to his senior, Mei Mei.
[Senpai, I'm sorry. I've realized I can't bring myself to deliver the love letter you wrote.]
[It's too embarrassing. I feel like I'd get scolded.]
[Let's call off our previous agreement. I'll treat you to a meal another day.]
After sending the message, Asou Akiya took the love letter out of his pocket and stood there in a daze for a while, the pressure weighing heavily on him. Then, as though he did not feel the needle-like gaze piercing into his back, he calmly opened the kitchen stove and, with a flick of flame, set fire to the pink envelope that was filled with Miss Mei Mei's insincere affections.
Gojo Satoru: "!!"
His first reaction— the handwriting leaned toward a feminine style; it was not Akiya's usual script.
His second reaction— tch, fortunately Suguru didn't find out about the wild scenario he had imagined. So it wasn't a love letter Akiya had written to him after all, which meant he didn't have to question the authenticity of the letter or brace himself for some Valentine's Day prank concocted by Akiya and Suguru.
His third reaction…
Wait a second— was this a love letter that senpai had asked Akiya to pass on to him? Then why was Akiya burning it?
When Gojo Satoru saw the message on the phone, he ignored Getou Suguru's astonishment and dashed into the kitchen, trying to salvage his love letter.
"My first love letter in my entire life—!!"
—Nothing remained but a small pile of ashes.
—
Author's Note:
Please shower this story with your support!
In Japan in 2006, the exchange rate was such that 1,000,000 yen was approximately equivalent to 140,000 RMB.