Gojo paused his teasing and turned back. He pulled his blindfold down just a fraction, his bright blue eye blinking with genuine curiosity.
"Actually, yeah. I didn't bother asking when it was just a boring Grade 1. But a Special Grade that perfectly binds to a soul? That's a completely different story. Where did you pick that up, Ren-kun?"
Ren stared at the three elite sorcerers looming over him. Internally, his mind was screaming.
What am I supposed to say? I can't exactly tell them a glowing blue holographic System handed me a Grade 2 katana as a reward for getting admitted to this school, and then I spent points from killing curses to upgrade it.
He needed a story. Something simple. Something deniable. Looking down at the dark, abyss-like scabbard resting on his lap, he then met Yaga's gaze, letting his expression flatten into a mask of pure, unbothered innocence.
"I was just walking down the street in Shibuya a few weeks ago," he started, voice incredibly steady and casual. "And it dropped out of the sky and hit me on the head."
The room went dead silent. Only the evening breeze whistling through the shattered window made a sound.
"It hit you on the head," Yaga repeated slowly, tone dangerously low.
"Yeah." He nodded, leaning into the lie with absolute, terrifying commitment. "It really hurt. I thought some guy just dropped a prop katana off a roof or something. But when I picked it up... I realized it was a Grade 1 cursed tool. Finders keepers, I guess."
Utahime stared. Her eyes darted from his deadpan face to the dark blade, and back again.
"Do you actually think we are going to believe that? That is the most blatantly fabricated, insulting lie I have ever heard in my entire life!"
He shrugged helplessly. "I'm serious. It was a very clear sky."
"A Grade 1 cursed weapon does not just fall out of the sky!" she shrieked, taking a menacing step toward the bed and pointing a shaking finger right at his nose. "If you are not going to tell the truth, we will drag you down to the holding cells right now! You are going to be formally interrogated by the higher-ups until you explain exactly who is arming you, transfer student!"
"Whoa, whoa, hold on!" Stepping smoothly between them, Gojo threw his hands up in a defensive, placating gesture. "Let's not jump straight to waterboarding my favorite student, Utahime!"
"Satoru, he is clearly lying to our faces!" she yelled, trying to step around him.
"Is he?" He gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest as if scandalized. "I don't know! Tokyo is a crazy place! Curse users fly around on pelican curses all the time! Maybe one of them had a butterfingers moment and dropped his favorite weapon right onto poor Ren-kun's head! It's a miracle he survived the blunt force trauma!"
Yaga rubbed his temples, a deep groan escaping his chest. "Satoru..."
"Miracles of youth, Principal!" Beaming, the white-haired teacher wrapped a heavy, protective arm around the boy's shoulders, pulling him against his side. "The universe just wanted our transfer student to have a cool katana! Who are we to argue with the sky?"
Yaga stared at the massive, unwavering grin. He looked back at Ren, who was still maintaining a perfectly blank, stupid expression. The Principal's broad shoulders finally slumped in defeat; he simply did not have the energy to fight this sheer wall of nonsense today.
"I expect that written report by Friday," Yaga growled, turning abruptly. Having reached his absolute limit, he barked, "Utahime. We are leaving."
"But—Principal!" she protested, glaring at the two of them.
"Now." He ducked through the ruined doorframe and marched down the hall.
Letting out a frustrated scream, Utahime aggressively kicked a piece of splintered wood out of her way as she stomped after him, angry muttering echoing down the corridor.
The heavy footsteps finally faded completely. The silence in the ruined dorm room was thick, broken only by the wind rustling the debris on the floor.
Gojo dropped his protective arm. The massive, obnoxious grin slowly slid off his face, replaced by a calculating, quiet expression. Pulling his blindfold all the way down, he let it hang loosely around his neck. Both crystalline blue eyes locked directly onto Nightfall.
"Alright," he said, voice stripped of its usual playful lilt. "The adults are gone. Let me see it."
Ren tightened his grip on the dark scabbard. "You broke my window the last time you touched it."
"And I'll buy you a prettier one," the older sorcerer dismissed with a casual wave of his hand. Stepping closer, he hovered a palm just inches from the hilt.
The dark, abyss-like aura of the Special Grade weapon immediately began to agitate, sensing the limitless cursed energy approaching. "Tell it to become friends with me."
Ren looked up, then down at the pitch-black steel. The System hadn't exactly provided a user manual on how to verbally negotiate with the 'Soul Bond' trait. So, sticking entirely to his established brand of absolute, weaponized stupidity, he held the weapon up slightly and spoke directly to the metal.
"Katana. Become friends with Gojo Satoru."
Nightfall did absolutely nothing. The dark mist continued to curl off its edges, completely unbothered.
The strongest sorcerer in the world blinked slowly, an expression of profound, deeply exhausted disappointment crossing his features. He let out a long, dramatic sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the entire world.
"You really are a piece of work, Ren-kun."
Without warning, his hand darted forward, snatching the scabbard right out of the boy's grip. The moment long fingers wrapped around the dark wood, the air in the room violently warped.
Nightfall let out a shrieking, metallic hum, bleeding a dense, inky black mist that aggressively pushed against the invisible barrier of Infinity. The sheer force of the rejection cracked the floorboards beneath them.
Holding it for exactly three seconds, Gojo examined the violent reaction with a critical, glowing blue eye. Then, as quickly as he had grabbed it, he nonchalantly tossed it right back.
Ren scrambled for a second, catching the heavy blade against his chest. The violent mist instantly receded into a calm, dark hum the moment it was safely back in his hands.
"Fascinating." Seamlessly pulling his blindfold back up, the terrifying, calculating aura vanished in an instant. He was back to being the carefree, obnoxious teacher. "It really is like a very angry, highly radioactive guard dog. Good boy."