What a lively bunch

After they collected their textbooks, their uniforms arrived too.

Tokyo Jujutsu High's uniforms came in dark colors, with crisp tailoring and thick fabric that smelled of freshly starched cloth when worn.

The designs could be adjusted to suit each student's preferences. That was a Jujutsu High tradition.

After all, every jujutsu sorcerer fought differently and had a different physique. A one-size-fits-all uniform would only compromise their efficiency on missions.

The red hood on Itadori's uniform later on was the same deal-it depended on the student's requests.

Satoru Gojo's had clearly been altered in advance.

The collar was two finger-widths looser than the standard version, and the cuffs fastened differently to give his wrists more freedom of movement.

The trousers were more fitted than the standard cut too. No matter how you looked at it, it hardly resembled an ordinary uniform. It looked more like some rich young master had personally directed the design, then slipped in a few touches of his own.

Fifteen really was the age for showing off.

Shoko's was perfectly ordinary.

She picked it up, took a look, shook it out, and held it against herself to check the size. Once she confirmed it fit, she folded it straight up and put it in her bag.

Quick and efficient, without a single unnecessary movement or comment.

Suguru Geto's was neat and proper too.

He unfolded his uniform, checked every button and seam, then carefully folded it and put it in his bag.

He lined up all the edges as he folded, exactly as he had when arranging his textbooks.

Yan Si picked up his uniform and studied it for ages.

He shook out the jacket, held it up before his eyes, inspected the front and back, and even leaned in to sniff it.

Then he delivered his final assessment. "Pretty black."

As Satoru Gojo draped his own uniform over himself, he looked back and said, "That's such an empty comment."

He wore the uniform jacket with the dashing flair of a trench coat, leaving every button undone and letting the hem flutter behind him.

Yan Si tilted his uniform and examined it again, genuinely considering how to come up with a more creative description of black.

After thinking for two seconds, he nodded. "Then I'll try another one. Perfect for nighttime murder."

Holding her uniform bag, Shoko glanced his way and delivered a brief verdict in an indifferent tone. "Nice taste."

Masamichi Yaga stood in the doorway with a clipboard in his hand, unsure whether he should go in. He had come to check on the distribution of textbooks and uniforms, but after hearing that exchange from the doorway, his feet had stopped of their own accord.

Suguru Geto rubbed between his brows, his voice already a little hoarse with fatigue. "Stop egging each other on."

Yan Si draped his uniform over his shoulders, too lazy to put it on properly.

With every button left undone, the black jacket hung loosely on him. The sleeves were a little too long, covering half his palms and leaving only a few slender fingers exposed.

Paired with that face of his.

Purple eyes, a red dot between his brows, and long black hair spilling over his shoulders.

He really did look a little like a beautiful supernatural creature that had just stepped out of some ghost story.

Not the frightening kind, but the kind that appeared in ukiyo-e prints, beguiling passersby with its beauty.

Satoru Gojo pushed his sunglasses onto his head, fully revealing his Six Eyes, and circled him once.

He inspected him carefully from the front, the side, and the back, then stopped in front of him. "Meat Bun, if you walk down the halls looking like that at night, won't you scare the assistant supervisors?"

Yan Si smiled at him, his uniform sleeves swaying with his movements. He raised a hand and swept the hair that had fallen forward back over his shoulder, revealing his whole face and the red mole between his brows. "Dead Cat, getting to see this face is a blessing, okay~ Even getting scared is a blessing. They'd better pay me a performance fee~"

Satoru Gojo's eyes lit up. He immediately pointed toward the doorway. "I'll pay. Go scare Mr. Yaga."

Masamichi Yaga's voice came from the doorway, not loud, but carrying clearly. "Satoru Gojo!"

Satoru Gojo immediately withdrew his hand and raised both arms in surrender, so fast it looked as though he had rehearsed it countless times.

His voice rose a notch, every word crystal clear. "Just kidding!"

Yan Si spread his hands and sighed.

It was a long, slow sigh, even his shoulders slumping along with it.

He shook his head, his voice steeped in regret. "What a shame."

Scaring people sounded kind of fun~

Looking at the two of them, Masamichi Yaga made a decision: training-ground cleanup this afternoon, training-ground cleanup tomorrow afternoon, and training-ground cleanup the afternoon after that. Three days straight.

He drafted a set of special rules for the first-years in his head. Rule one: "No crouching at the end of the hallway with your hair hanging loose to scare people." Rule two: "No bringing cursed spirits into the dormitory." Rule three: "No discussing how cursed spirits taste in the cafeteria." Rule four-"No students beating each other up."

That last one, especially, needed to be in bold.

By evening, the four of them finally emerged from the classroom building.

Shoko, Satoru Gojo, and Yan Si had joined forces to hand the sweeping duties over to Suguru Geto's special cursed spirit.

They could thank Mama Geto for that.

The setting sun spilled in from the west, washing Jujutsu High's stone steps in a mellow orange.

Their shadows stretched long, the four silhouettes crossing, overlapping, and separating again on the steps.

The mountain breeze was cooler than in the city, carrying the mingled scent of leaves and earth, along with a faint floral fragrance drifting in from somewhere far away.

Suguru Geto carried some of the newly issued textbooks, stacked neatly against his chest.

Satoru Gojo had tied the rest into a stack with some rope he had found who knew where, then casually slung them over his shoulder as though carrying a backpack.

It was hardly the proper way to carry them, but they were surprisingly secure.

Shoko walked at the outer edge of the group, another unlit cigarette between her lips. Her expression had evolved from "annoyed" to "whatever."

The cigarette at the corner of her mouth bobbed gently with her steps.

Yan Si walked a few paces ahead, his uniform jacket still draped over him, one corner of its hem fluttering backward in the breeze.

He had tied his hair up again with the hair tie Suguru Geto had given him. It was a little crooked because he hadn't bothered looking in a mirror while tying it. The hair tie was dark blue and didn't quite match the uniform, but nobody mentioned it.

Satoru Gojo stared at the hair tie for a few seconds. Then he asked the question he had been holding in the whole way. "Geto, why do you carry hair ties around?" His tone held the smugness of someone who had discovered something.

Suguru Geto carried his books at an even pace, his voice as steady as ever. "Because I have long hair too. And he's lazy, so he doesn't bring any."

Satoru Gojo let out an "Oh~"

He drew that "oh" out, his pitch sweeping all the way from low to high.

He gave Suguru Geto a meaningful look, then glanced at Yan Si walking up ahead.

Without turning around, Yan Si's voice drifted back to them. "What are you 'oh'-ing about?"

Grinning, Satoru Gojo pushed his sunglasses up and winked at the back of Yan Si's head. "Nothing."

But his tone said it was absolutely something.

Shoko glanced at him and translated his subtext for everyone. "He's being an ass."

Satoru Gojo clutched his chest, putting on an exaggerated expression as though his heart had been pierced. "How could you say that, Shoko!"

Yan Si finally looked back at him and nodded, his tone full of the approval of someone whose thoughts had finally been voiced. "Spot-on."

Suguru Geto pretended not to hear.

He shifted the books higher in his arms and kept walking, his expression unchanged.

But a closer look would have revealed that his pace had quickened just a little.

When they reached the dormitory, their third-year senior Mei Mei happened to be coming out.

Her long, silver-white hair was tied in a high ponytail and shone faintly in the dusk. She wore a plain outfit that day, her belt loosely tied, her bearing exquisitely elegant.

She held a small wallet, its leather surface polished to a soft sheen by years of use.

At the sight of the four first-years, her gaze moved from Satoru Gojo to Shoko, then from Shoko to Yan Si, before finally settling on the tall stack of textbooks in Suguru Geto's arms.

"New students, hm?"

She smiled. Her voice was quiet, but every word was clearly enunciated, carrying the composure of someone who had seen it all. "What a lively bunch."