Hoping the Kitty Gets Flattened

Suguru Geto threw away the trash, then wiped his face with a towel, folded it, and set it aside.

He walked over to Yan Si, stopped beside him, and unscrewed his water bottle to take a sip.

Yan Si was still sitting cross-legged on the ground, thinking. He remembered that Shoko was pretty good at hand-to-hand combat-good enough to send Gojo-sensei flying.

Ah, I'd really like to see Gojo the kitty become Gojo the kitty pancake.

Satoru Gojo felt a chill down his neck. The kitty bristled and scanned the grounds in confusion.

Noticing Satoru Gojo's gaze, Yan Si glanced at him and marveled at how sharp Gojo the kitty's senses were.

Then he turned his attention back to the center of the grounds, watching Shoko prepare for her test.

The test was simple.

The wooden-post mechanism would launch padded striking rods from different directions. The cloth-wrapped wooden rods moved fast, but their blows wouldn't cause injuries. At most, they would leave a red mark.

The test was designed to assess reaction speed, evasive awareness, and physical coordination.

For ordinary students, it wasn't easy. Even reaching the passing mark was a major hurdle.

But for jujutsu sorcerers, it was merely a basic exercise.

Anyone who couldn't even dodge a wooden rod would be nothing more than a target in front of an actual cursed spirit, so jujutsu sorcerers were generally capable hand-to-hand fighters (with the exception of Kokichi Muta over a decade later. Kokichi Muta-the operator of Mechamaru-had a heavenly restriction that traded his physical capabilities for an enormous amount of cursed energy).

Shoko stood in the center, the ends of her short hair stirring gently in the breeze.

Her stance was relaxed, her knees slightly bent and her center of gravity lowered a little, with both hands hanging naturally at her sides.

She still had her freshly unwrapped fifth lollipop in her mouth. Mint-flavored, the mildest kind, with almost no detectable sweetness.

Her eyes were half-lidded, showing neither nerves nor excitement.

At fifteen, Shoko already had little enthusiasm left. She was quite like an adult.

The first striking rod sprang out from the left, whistling through the air straight toward her shoulder.

Shoko turned sideways, moving just enough for the wooden rod to slide past the fabric of her uniform jacket.

Her movement was economical, so economical that she couldn't be bothered to expend an ounce more effort on that rod.

The second came from behind at a tricky angle, aimed straight at her lower back.

She ducked. The movement wasn't fast, but her timing was precise.

The wooden rod swept over the back of her head, stirring a few loose strands of hair.

The third and fourth rods sprang out almost simultaneously, one from each side, cutting off her escape routes to the left and right.

She raised an arm to block the one on the left, and a dull thud sounded as her arm met the rod.

Her right leg stepped back half a pace, and she leaned slightly backward, letting the rod on the right skim past her collarbone.

The whole sequence flowed smoothly. Her movements weren't flashy, lacking both Satoru Gojo's dazzling, overflowing talent and Suguru Geto's rock-solid, airtight steadiness.

But she conserved effort. Every step seemed precisely calculated for energy expenditure. She wouldn't move an extra centimeter, yet every movement was exactly enough.

Satoru Gojo watched from the sidelines for a while, arms crossed and head tilted, then offered a very Satoru Gojo assessment. "Shoko looks like a game console on low battery. Lazy."

Yan Si nodded, sitting cross-legged with his elbows on his knees and his chin propped in his hands. "Never doing more when she can do less. Very wise."

His voice carried utterly sincere admiration.

He actually had considerable respect for Shoko's style.

Suguru Geto looked at the testing area, then at the two "commentators" beside him, and decided not to speak.

He realized that although Yan Si and Satoru Gojo had different ways of evaluating Shoko, their conclusions were surprisingly consistent.

Neither thought there was anything wrong with Shoko's "power-saving mode." In fact, they thought it was pretty cool.

In a sense, these two were far more accepting of "saving effort" than he'd imagined.

"I don't think either of you has any right to call someone else lazy," he finally couldn't help saying.

Satoru Gojo and Yan Si turned to him at the same time and asked in unison, "Why?"

Suguru Geto pointed at Satoru Gojo. "You were almost late this morning."

After Satoru Gojo and Shoko arrived at school, Satoru Gojo had bought some food and drinks, then curled up in a corner to bask in the sun. He'd nearly missed the start of class.

Suguru Geto then pointed at Yan Si, his foxlike eyes curving slightly. "You too. I had to drag you out of bed this morning."

Then he withdrew his finger and folded his arms, his expression calm.

Both fell silent at once, then simultaneously decided to pretend they hadn't heard him and went back to watching Shoko's test.

When the test ended, an upper-middle score appeared on the scoreboard. Nothing dazzling, but comfortably above the passing mark.

Masamichi Yaga jotted a few notes on his clipboard and nodded. "Pass."

Shoko walked back at an unhurried pace, wearing exactly the same expression she'd had going in-neither happy to have passed nor proud of her performance.

She pulled a sixth lollipop from her pocket. Strawberry-flavored, her last one for the day.

She unwrapped it exactly as she had the others, even tearing the wrapper at the same angle.

Satoru Gojo leaned over. "Shoko, why do you carry so much candy?"

"Because I need sugar to counteract the irritation certain people cause." Shoko put the lollipop into her mouth and walked toward the sidelines without looking aside.

Later, that would turn into smoking.

Satoru Gojo paused, then turned to Yan Si. "She means you, right?"

Yan Si said, "She obviously means you."

Shoko didn't look back. "Both of you."

Both shut up at once.

Satoru Gojo dropped the subject, but Yan Si rubbed his chin, utterly unable to believe that anyone could dislike his perfect self, and cheerfully said, "So Shoko's a tsundere after all~"

Standing beside them, Suguru Geto's lips twitched slightly.

Shoko: ?!

Satoru Gojo looked thoughtful. "Oh, so that's it..."

Shoko held herself back and pointed at the two of them. "You two assholes, what are you talking about?!"

Yan Si stood, brushed the sand off his uniform trousers, tossed his cookie bag into the trash, and walked into the center of the grounds with a bright smile.

He hummed, "I can't hear you~ Ah, ah~ I can't hear you~ Ah, ah, ah..."

Stopping in the middle of the testing area, he turned to face the five wooden-post mechanisms poised to strike, looking as though he were greeting a group of old friends.

Masamichi Yaga watched him, his pencil pausing in his hand. Then, in the tone of someone heading off trouble before it started, he said each word distinctly. "No cursed tools. No tanking hits with Reverse Cursed Technique. Dodge as much as possible."

Yan Si spread his hands innocently. The wind lifted the loose hair over his forehead, fully revealing the red mole between his brows. "Sir, I'm not a dumbass. Why would I tank them?"

"Because I've read your file." Masamichi Yaga's voice held the weary understanding of someone who had seen it all.

"Files aren't necessarily accurate," Yan Si argued.

"It says you deliberately let yourself get hurt." As Masamichi Yaga said this, he stared straight at Yan Si without blinking.

Yan Si wasn't the slightest bit embarrassed.

Sunlight fell across his face, making his purple eyes look especially clear.

Then he smiled and admitted it without the slightest hesitation. "That part's pretty accurate~"

Really, he was just too lazy to dodge getting hurt.

Masamichi Yaga: "..."

He lightly tapped his pencil against the clipboard, making a silent note of that honest answer.

Then he briefly closed his eyes and gestured for him to begin.

The test began.

When the first striking rod sprang out, Yan Si didn't move.

The wooden rod shot out from the right. Its angle wasn't particularly tricky, and its speed was the standard pace for the beginning of the test.

He stood there watching the rod fly toward him, its growing silhouette reflected in his purple eyes, with even a faint smile lingering on his lips.

Then the wooden rod grazed past him with a thump. Even wrapped in soft cloth, it packed a fair amount of force, and the sound echoed across the training grounds.

Even lazier than Shoko.

The second round began.

This time, he moved.

His long black hair swept up into the air.

Yan Si's body needed almost no transition from stillness to motion.

One second he was standing in place; the next, he was moving in a flash.

A striking rod sprang out from the side, one notch faster than in the first round. He lightly tapped his toes against the sandy ground, his body barely rising or falling as he practically glided sideways along the edge of the rod. The breeze trailing it lifted the ends of his hair for an instant before they settled back onto his shoulders.

The rod attacking from behind closed in right after it, the whistle of its passage reaching his back before the wood itself.

He didn't turn around.

As though he had eyes in the back of his head, he merely shifted one shoulder slightly. The wooden rod swept past his clothing with a faint rush of air, never even touching its hem.

His ears had heard it coming~

Very sensitive~