Quite some time had passed since that fateful battle. Since Special Grade sorcerers were granted the privilege of choosing their own assignments, Hasegumo had been enjoying a rare, long-overdue period of leisure.
He woke up early to greet the rising sun, finishing his daily routine of ten thousand "Punches of Gratitude" before returning to his dorm to scroll through his phone.
By now, TikTok was starting to explode in popularity. As a man of fashion, Hasegumo naturally stayed ahead of the curve. Clutching his Samsung Note 7, he nestled into the sofa in the most comfortable position possible, beginning his daily dose of digital dopamine.
On the screen, a video played: "I lived with my husband for over ten years, and he abused me for every one of them. After the divorce, he started hitting me even harder.""And what is your request?""I want to remarry him."
"Pfft, haha..." Hasegumo chuckled, one hand tucked behind his head while his other thumb lazily swiped up. Beside him, an arm manifested from pure cursed energy held a can of ice-cold Cola, pouring it into his mouth whenever he felt the urge.
The next video started: "Hello, lawyer. The place where I work is full of people doing illegal things. I'm really scared—can you help me out?""The place where you work? Sir, what exactly is your profession?""I'm a prison guard."
...
Time is like the money in your wallet; just when you think you have plenty left, you reach in only to find it's empty.
Just as Hasegumo thought today would be another unremarkable day, his door was suddenly kicked open.
"Slacking off again! Gumo, ever since you became a Special Grade, you've become increasingly lazy!"
"Yaga-sensei?!" Hasegumo flinched as if a physical switch had been flipped, instinctively springing off the sofa.
"Wait, that's not right." He rubbed the back of his head, realization dawning. "I'm not a student anymore. Why am I acting guilty?"
He quickly composed himself and put on a serious face. "Is there something you need, Yaga-sensei?"
"You haven't taken a single mission lately," Masamichi Yaga boomed, his voice echoing. "Are you planning to just rot away in your room forever?"
Hasegumo sighed internally. You're the Principal now; don't you get tired of worrying about everything? "There's a perfectly good reason for this," Hasegumo countered.
"Oh? Let's hear it." Yaga stared him down with an expression that clearly said 'I'd love to see you try and explain this.'
"Because there's literally no work to do. Ever since Satoru lost to me, he's been like a man possessed. He's been hogging every Grade 1 mission and above. The guy is dangerously diligent." Hasegumo gave Yaga a look that practically begged for a gold star. "Thanks to him, there hasn't been a single high-level cursed spirit incident in all of Tokyo lately."
"That's still no excuse for your idleness. As it happens, I have a mission for you." Yaga handed him a file. "There's a boy involved with a Special Grade Cursed Spirit. Satoru is currently out of town, so you're going to investigate. If he has potential, bring him back."
"Aye, aye!" Hasegumo snapped a salute. Private Hasegumo, reporting for duty!
"I'll get it done, guaranteed."
It wasn't that he hated exorcising curses; it was just that weak opponents failed to pique his interest. Satoru left very few scraps behind—mostly tasks that Haibara or Nanami could handle with ease. Staying in the dorm actually allowed him to sneak off at night to help Shoko heal injured sorcerers brought in from out of state.
Mentoring a new sorcerer, huh? If I can find someone with actual talent to keep things interesting, that wouldn't be half bad.
Yaga was satisfied with Hasegumo's attitude, even if he loathed the laziness. Now that the man was a Special Grade, it was time to pile on some responsibility.
"Also, you'll be temporarily taking charge of the first-year students."
"I don't have any experience teaching. Will that work?"
"You'll get experience by doing it, won't you?"
"Haha, fair point."
Case Record: May 2017, Tokyo.Incident triggered by persistent bullying from classmates.Total of four male students, including the ringleader, severely injured.Three Grade 2 sorcerers and one Grade 1 sorcerer injured during containment.Assessed Grade: Special Grade.
"Hello there."
Hasegumo pushed open the door to the classroom. In the corner sat a frail, delicate-looking boy. The faint dark circles under his eyes suggested he hadn't been sleeping well.
"Who are you?" For some reason, as Yuta Okkotsu looked at the man before him—who didn't seem much older than himself—he felt a strange sense of peace.
"A Jujutsu Sorcerer. Basically, the guy who handles 'situations' like yours." Hasegumo walked slowly toward him. "The name's Hasegumo."
"Don't... don't come any closer. You'll die." Yuta was a kind soul. Despite the bullying, he never once harbored the desire to use the curse to get revenge.
On the contrary, the fact that the curse hurt others to protect him filled him with a deep sense of guilt. In any other story, this was the kind of man with the temperament of a saint.
"It's fine." Even though the cursed energy surging in front of him was practically solid, Hasegumo acted as if he couldn't see it, maintaining a relaxed smile. "I'm actually pretty strong, you know."
"Hmm... everything seems to be in order." Hasegumo leaned down, carefully observing the boy's expression. "For now, just stay here. I need to confirm a few more things before deciding how to handle your case."
Seeing Hasegumo turn to leave, Yuta spoke up in a panic. "Aren't you here to kill me? Please... don't leave me alone here."
"Of course not. I don't kill people." Hasegumo looked up at the white cursed spirit looming above. Its massive frame, terrifying visage, and overwhelming cursed energy output all screamed Special Grade.
If I expanded my Domain, I could probably end this with one punch, he thought. Instead, he spoke softly to the spirit: "Don't scare your boyfriend. Be a good girl and go back inside for a bit, okay?"
As a Special Grade Vengeful Cursed Spirit, Rika Orimoto possessed an intuition far beyond human comprehension. In her eyes, the man standing there might have looked small, but he felt like a higher plane of existence. A single glance was enough to make her mindless form shudder with a long-forgotten sensation: terror.
"Die... I'll die... I'll die..." Though her intelligence was limited, her instincts told her that any move other than absolute obedience would result in instantaneous destruction. Furthermore, she sensed that this man had no intention of hurting Yuta.
"What...?" Yuta watched in shock as Rika, for the first time ever, obeyed someone else's command and slowly faded into the air.
In that moment, the string of "Pure Love" in his heart seemed to vibrate with confusion.
...
Once Hasegumo finished his investigation, the two of them boarded Kiyotaka Ijichi's "Express" vehicle.
"You should still just kill me," Yuta muttered from the back seat, his desire for death unabated. "I don't want to hurt anyone else."
"I talked to the students nearby. They all said those guys were the type of scum who bullied kindergarteners, disrespected the elderly, and extorted protection money from their classmates." Hasegumo glanced at the file in his hand. "Even so, you still don't want to hurt them?"
Hasegumo could understand the boy's perspective—but only a little. Even if he himself practiced a life of gratitude toward the world, he wouldn't let people walk over him without fighting back.
However, since he was technically a thirty-one-year-old adult now, counseling a lost student was part of the job.
"Young man, don't be so obsessed with dying." Hasegumo leaned his head out the window to admire the sky. The faint red glow of the setting sun reflected off the clouds, creating a unique beauty that looked like dancing flames. "There are countless beautiful things in life waiting for you to discover them. If you die now, you'll only regret it once you hit Hell."
"So you've already decided I'm going to Hell..." Yuta gave a pessimistic, self-deprecating laugh. "Makes sense. Someone like me could never reach Heaven."
Yuta looked over at him. "Why do you sound like an old man? You don't look that much older than me."
"Haha, don't let the looks fool you." Hasegumo pulled his head back into the car and started reciting his "scripture." "I'm already thirty-one."
"For real?"
"Real as it gets." Hasegumo threw an arm around Yuta's shoulder. "If you feel like you can't reach Heaven, then work hard to overcome it. Go beyond."
"I can feel it—the power inside you is immense. If you can learn to control it, you could save so many people. So, what do you say? Want to give it a try?"
"If I can help others... I'll try." Recalling Rika's behavior, Yuta was certain it wasn't because Hasegumo was some "charismatic" stranger, but because he had terrified her. "But... is she really that strong? You scared her off with one look."
"Don't use Gumo-kun as a yardstick," Ijichi chimed in from the driver's seat, unable to help himself. "He's currently the strongest sorcerer in the world."
"The strongest?" Yuta looked at Hasegumo again. The man was lounging there without a hint of arrogance, his arm around Yuta's neck. He was muscular, sure, but he wasn't particularly tall, and Yuta couldn't see any of that dark energy coming off him. He looked completely ordinary.
"A secret execution?"
This was the first time since becoming a sorcerer that Hasegumo had been invited into the high tower on the edge of Jujutsu High. Usually, anyone who got close was turned away, and the building was protected by an internal barrier separate from the school's main one.
"He's just a sixteen-year-old kid. He only roughed up a few pieces of trash; that's hardly worth a death sentence."
The room was dim, the air heavy and stagnant. Decaying folding screens hid the silhouettes of the so-called "Higher-Ups."
"It was carried out with his own consent," a raspy, aged voice drifted from behind a screen.
"Impossible." Hasegumo knew he'd already talked the kid down, and Yuta hadn't looked nearly that suicidal by the end of the car ride. "If that's the case, go ahead and execute him yourselves. Why call me here?"
The room went silent. Because if we try, we might get slaughtered, they thought, but their pride wouldn't allow them to say it. Instead, they pivoted.
"Have you forgotten how to use honorifics?" Another voice came from behind a different screen—equally old, equally loathsome. "Young man, remember your place. Do you have any idea who you are talking to?"
"Special Grade Sorcerer Hasegumo. I'm well aware." Satoru Gojo had mentioned these higher-ups often after he reached Special Grade; through osmosis, Hasegumo had developed a healthy distaste for these old fogies who occupied positions of power without contributing anything.
"However, I really don't know who you are. Why don't you pull back those screens and let me see your faces?"
Hasegumo watched as the silence stretched on. They were quick to order deaths and quicker to try and lie to a thirty-one-year-old veteran like him. He turned and walked out of the nauseating room.
"The door's right here. I'm certainly not stopping you."
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