The walk to the train station was quiet, save for the sound of Nobara aggressively stomping her boots against the pavement.
She was still muttering a steady stream of highly creative death threats directed entirely at their teacher.
Ren kept his hands shoved deep into his pockets, falling a few steps behind the two sorcerers. He let the cool afternoon air hit his face, actively bleeding off the last spikes of adrenaline from the fight.
Gojo had definitely set the whole thing up. The "clerical error" was a blatant lie designed to drop him into a high-pressure, live-fire situation just to see what would happen.
Megumi was clearly suspicious, and Gojo was probably sitting in a cafe somewhere, waiting to hear if his new transfer student got torn in half or actually fought back.
But the more Ren thought about it, the more his initial tension started to fade. He let out a slow, quiet breath, watching Megumi's rigid shoulders ahead of him.
It didn't actually matter if Gojo figured out he knew how to fight.
Ren knew exactly how Satoru Gojo operated. The man wasn't a strict disciplinarian, and he fundamentally despised the conservative elders who ran the Jujutsu world.
He collected talented, problematic kids like stray cats specifically to build a new generation that could annoy the establishment.
If Gojo realized Ren was hiding a seasoned fighter's reflexes, he wouldn't interrogate him or hand him over to the Zen'in clan. He wouldn't even care where the martial arts skills came from.
He'd probably just laugh, clap his hands, and throw him at an even bigger curse next week just to see what else he was hiding.
To Gojo, a mysterious kid who somehow bypassed the laws of equivalent exchange to get a Heavenly Restriction was just an entertaining new piece on the chessboard.
As long as the System itself remained completely hidden, Ren was fine. Knowing how to throw a proper palm strike wasn't a crime.
"Hey," Nobara barked, suddenly stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and pointing a sharp finger at him.
Ren blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. He stopped, instantly throwing up his usual, mild customer-service smile. "Yeah?"
"I'm not using my own money to buy that blindfolded idiot his stupid sweets," she snapped, crossing her arms defensively. "You're the new guy. You're buying the daifuku."
Megumi didn't stop walking, but he glanced back over his shoulder. "Don't argue with her. It's faster if you just pay."
Ren let out a short, tired laugh, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. "Yeah, alright. Two boxes of matcha daifuku coming up. Consider it a down payment on the new skirt I owe you."
Nobara's eye twitched, but she didn't argue. She just turned on her heel and marched toward the green awning of the bakery down the street.
Ren followed them.
The bell above the bakery door chimed as they walked in. The small shop smelled heavily of roasted tea and sweet red bean paste.
Nobara marched straight to the glass display case and tapped the glass aggressively. "Two boxes of the limited-edition matcha daifuku," she told the clerk. She stepped to the side, crossing her arms and looking expectantly at Ren.
Ren pulled a few bills from his wallet and handed them over. The clerk bagged the two bright green boxes and held them out.
Ren reached for the paper handles. Before his fingers even made contact, he actively dialed back the tension in his forearm. He closed his hand loosely, ensuring he didn't accidentally crush the thin cardboard into a flat, sugary mess.
He turned around. Nobara was already heading back out onto the street. Megumi was standing by the exit, holding the door open. His dark eyes dropped to the bag in Ren's hand for a split second before snapping back up to his face.
Megumi didn't say a word. He just let the door swing shut behind them and started walking toward the station.
The train ride back to the mountains was mostly silent. The late afternoon commuter crowd forced the three of them to stand near the doors. Ren held onto the overhead bar with his free hand, keeping his posture slouched.
He let the natural sway of the train move him around.
From the corner of his eye, he could see Megumi watching him in the reflection of the dark train window. Ren ignored it. He pulled his phone out with his free hand and started scrolling through a news app.
By the time they climbed the long stone steps back to the Tokyo Jujutsu High campus, the sun was dipping below the tree line.
Satoru Gojo was sitting on the wooden steps of the main courtyard. He didn't look like a teacher waiting for a combat report. His long legs were stretched out, and he was humming a cheerful tune.
"Ooooh!" Gojo cheered, hopping to his feet the second they walked through the gates. "I smell matcha!"
He closed the distance between them with that unnatural, gliding speed and plucked the paper bag right out of Ren's hand. He peeked inside the box and let out a deeply satisfied sigh.
"Perfect condition! Excellent work, kids. And nobody is missing any limbs! A very successful first field trip."
"The intel was wrong," Megumi stated flatly, stopping in the middle of the courtyard. "It wasn't a Grade 3. It was a high Grade 2 with heavy armor plating."
"Ah, the front office is terrible with paperwork," Gojo waved his free hand dismissively. He pulled a green mochi out of the box and took a bite. "They really need to hire better clerks. But you handled it! How did our new transfer student do?"
"He has terrible footwork," Megumi said. His voice didn't change pitch, but he glanced at Ren.
"But he didn't freeze up."
"High praise from Megumi!" Gojo laughed. He swallowed the sweet and turned his blindfolded gaze toward Ren.
"And how about you, Ren-kun? Too scary for your first time??"
"It was definitely a lot," Ren said. He rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a nervous, tired laugh.
"I'm just glad Fushiguro and Kugisaki knew what they were doing. I basically just stood there trying not to get killed."
Nobara scoffed, crossing her arms and looking away. "At least you know your place. Don't forget you owe me a skirt."
Gojo chewed thoughtfully, tilting his head just a fraction of an inch. "Well, surviving is step one. We'll work on your terrible footwork later."
"Obviously!" Gojo beamed, waving his half-eaten mochi in the air. "But you're alive! And that's the most important metric of success around here. Which means..."
He pointed a long, sugar-dusted finger right at Ren's chest.
"Congratulations, Ren-kun! You survived your first real live-fire test. You are now officially a member of the first-year team. That means you are under my personal, highly attentive care. Welcome to the world of Jujutsu Sorcerers!"
"Great. Can I go now?" Nobara interrupted, her voice dripping with exhaustion and annoyance. She was already turning toward the dormitories. "I have a ruined skirt to mourn, and if I listen to another one of your inspirational speeches, I'm going to actually throw up."
"Mission report is in your inbox," Megumi added flatly. He didn't wait for a response either. He just shoved his hands into his pockets and followed Nobara down the gravel path, completely leaving Ren behind.
Gojo watched them go with a fond, exaggerated sigh, resting a hand on his hip. "Ah, the youth. So rebellious. So little appreciation for their incredibly generous teacher."
Ren stood there, offering a polite, awkward smile. He was fully intending to excuse himself, head back to his room, and finally check the System notifications that had been waiting for him since the fight.
"Well, I should probably go find Maki—" Ren started, taking a step back.
Before Ren could even process the movement, Gojo was standing right beside him. A heavy, long arm draped casually over Ren's shoulders, the weight of it suddenly pinning him in place.
He let out a surprised, slightly confused noise, looking up at his new teacher.
Gojo wasn't looking at the dorms anymore. He was looking down at Ren. The bright, goofy smile was still plastered on his face, but the atmosphere around them had completely shifted. The air felt inexplicably heavier.
"Actually, Ren-kun," Gojo said, his voice dropping just a fraction of an octave into something far more quiet and clinical. "Maki can wait. Let's take a little walk. You and I have something to talk about."