Masamichi Yaga Was Speechless

"Mr. Yaga~ You look a little unhappy~ Give us a smile~ After all, you should feel honored to have such an outstanding student as me~"

Yan Si was up to his usual tricks, teasing his teacher.

Or perhaps he wasn't teasing him at all. Perhaps he genuinely thought he was outstanding and that Masamichi Yaga ought to be happy.

Realizing this, Suguru Geto pressed a hand to his forehead.

Snap-

Masamichi Yaga closed his notebook and ignored Yan Si's words. His voice echoed across the empty training ground. "That concludes today's basic assessments. Collect your textbooks and uniforms this afternoon. Classes officially begin tomorrow. One more thing."

All four of them looked at him.

Masamichi Yaga's tone grew more serious.

If he had been making announcements before, now he was reading out the law.

He set down his clipboard and clasped his hands behind his back, his posture stern. "Jujutsu High does not forbid students from sparring, but a teacher must be present. No unauthorized fights. No fighting in the dormitories, classrooms, cafeteria, hallways, infirmary, storerooms, rooftops, or anywhere other than the training grounds."

In one breath, he listed every place he could think of that might be used as a fighting arena.

Satoru Gojo raised his hand. He moved quickly, determined to claim the right to ask the final question.

He pushed his sunglasses back into place, his whole face wearing a serious expression, as though something sensible might actually come out of his mouth.

Masamichi Yaga had a bad feeling. "Go ahead."

"What about the bathrooms?" Satoru Gojo asked.

His expression was serious, his tone curious, and the look behind his sunglasses suggested an academic discussion: "I just want to clarify the rules."

Masamichi Yaga's temple twitched. In a tone that said, "Just try exploiting a loophole right under my nose," he replied, "Not allowed."

Yan Si raised his hand too.

His waist-length black hair lay languidly against his body, swaying gently with the movement. It was beautiful.

He raised his hand differently from Satoru Gojo.

Smiling, unhurried, he kept his elbow resting lazily on his knee and merely lifted his wrist, as if casually putting up his hand in class.

But Masamichi Yaga knew now that although these two raised their hands at different speeds, they brought exactly the same amount of trouble.

"What about the woods?"

"Not allowed."

"The mountain path?"

"Not allowed."

Masamichi Yaga sternly rejected every location Yan Si proposed.

Beside him, Satoru Gojo tilted his head. Then his eyes lit up. "What if we run into a cursed spirit?"

Masamichi Yaga took a deep breath. This question was reasonable enough, but the timing and tone made it sound like an attempt to find a legal excuse to fight.

He paused, then gave the standard answer. "That would be a mission or an emergency. Different rules apply."

Satoru Gojo nodded and made an "OK" sign to show he understood.

Still smiling, Yan Si spoke up. "Sir, what if Satoru Gojo attacks first? He's the Gojo Clan's esteemed bearer of the Six Eyes, after all. What if he bullies a poor, beautiful, kind, intelligent... ordinary student like me?"

"Ah~ Should poor little me fight back, sir?"

Satoru Gojo immediately turned his head, reacting even faster than when he had dodged the striking poles.

He was a cat who had keenly sensed someone trying to pin the blame on him.

His white hair flashed in the sunlight, his face utterly serious. "Why are you assuming I'd attack first?"

Yan Si looked at him and blinked. "Because you look like you really want to hit me."

Satoru Gojo looked at him and blinked too, with exactly the same rhythm and innocence. "That's not hitting you. That's a loving sparring session between classmates."

Yan Si's smile curved his brows and his purple eyes into crescents, nudging the red mole between his brows slightly upward. He looked positively radiant. "What a coincidence! That's what I think too~ Looks like we're both full of love and know how to care for our classmates~"

You damn cat. Just wait till you catch these fists.

Suguru Geto closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He had never imagined he would experience the same kind of helplessness over and over in a single day.

The kind of helplessness that said, "I could have stopped this, but now it's too late."

Shoko felt around in her pocket. She found no lollipops, but she did find a pack of cigarettes.

She had brought plenty of lollipops when she left that morning, but her supply had already run dry. She had eaten them all.

Watching Yan Si and Satoru Gojo, she pulled a cigarette from the pack, ready to smoke while enjoying the show.

Masamichi Yaga gripped his notebook until it creaked.

His thumb pressed against the hardcover, his knuckles whitening with the force, and his grip left a shallow dent along the edge of the leather cover.

He suddenly remembered something he had once told a colleague: "Teaching students isn't hard. Finding good students is."

Now he wanted to amend that to: "Teaching students isn't hard. What's hard is getting two students who are not only geniuses but keep handing each other weapons, plus another who fucking lights up in front of her teacher on the first day of school!"

He drew a breath, keeping his voice at a relatively steady volume, though the ends of his words had begun to tremble.

Not from fear, but from holding himself back.

"You two. This afternoon, you're cleaning the training grounds. All of them. Shoko, you're joining them."

Satoru Gojo's smile froze. "Huh? Why?"

He pointed at himself, then at Yan Si, his expression saying, "We were just having a friendly conversation."

The cat felt he had suffered a tremendous injustice.

Yan Si stopped smiling too. His brows furrowed slightly as he earnestly analyzed how unreasonable this was. "Sir, that's unfair."

His tone carried the hurt of someone wrongfully accused. If Masamichi Yaga hadn't witnessed the scene himself, he might actually have been moved.

Beside them, Shoko was already smoking, her face plainly saying, "What a pain."

The drifting cigarette smoke tormented Yan Si for a moment, and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Honestly, dear Shoko, smoking in your teens can give you lung cancer. Oh, you have Reverse Cursed Technique. Never mind, then.

Masamichi Yaga sneered. It was brief, but forceful. "One more word, and you'll be doing it tomorrow too."

Satoru Gojo and Yan Si shut up at the same time.

Some evil, unscrupulous teacher had hit the same switch labeled "shut up" on both of them, and their lips snapped closed.

They exchanged a look, communicating something only their own kind could understand: "Your fault. You sweep."

Suguru Geto watched the two of them fall silent. He missed their exchange of glances and felt a subtle flicker of relief.

At least Mr. Yaga could keep them in line.

No lengthy lectures were necessary, no painstaking persuasion. Just one precisely targeted punishment with a threat attached.

Though it might only last three seconds.

As he watched Satoru Gojo and Yan Si whisper in a corner at the edge of the grounds about "whether we'd get punished for sweeping the leaves into the shape of Masamichi Yaga," he silently revised "three seconds" to "maybe five minutes."

Still, that was better than nothing.