Two lunatics

The cafeteria was on the ground floor of the main building.

When they pushed the door open, the first scents to greet them were the savory saltiness of miso soup and the mellow sweetness of freshly steamed rice, mingled with the charred aroma of grilled fish drifting from deep inside the kitchen.

The room wasn't particularly large. Several long tables stood in two rows, their wood grain polished to a warm sheen by the bowls and plates of countless meals.

The serving window faced the entrance, and the occasional sharp clatter of utensils came from the semi-open kitchen behind it.

The menu rotated daily. There wasn't much variety, but the cafeteria lady knew how to cook.

Pitifully few people ate at Jujutsu High.

Four first-years, one third-year named Mei Mei, the principal when he occasionally came to inspect the place, and a handful of Assistant Supervisors-fewer than twenty people altogether.

Yet the cafeteria lady prepared enough food for dozens, piling every portion high. Apparently, Jujutsu High's funding was still quite generous.

Satoru Gojo sat down across from Yan Si with his tray, which hit the tabletop with a crisp clack.

His plate was loaded: golden fried shrimp stuck up from an assortment of tempura, and he'd ordered an extra serving of grilled salmon on the side. Its skin was lightly charred around the edges, with a thin, glossy sheen of fat coating the surface.

Yan Si had a bowl of white rice, a serving of ginger pork, a small dish of pickles, and a bowl of miso soup.

No tempura, no fried shrimp, no sashimi, nothing with even a hint of fishiness.

The meal's palette was so clean it bordered on bland, but it tasted delicious Ψ(￣∀￣)Ψ.

White rice, light brown pork, pale yellow pickled radish, dark brown soup.

Satoru Gojo looked down at his own plate, then at Yan Si's, his chopsticks hovering in midair. "You don't eat seafood?"

"I do. It's all tingly and spicy. I have it occasionally."

Yan Si picked up a piece of pork and popped it into his mouth.

The mild heat of the ginger mingled with the sweetness of the meat on his tongue. His eyes narrowed in satisfaction, and his chewing unconsciously slowed a beat, his cheeks moving in little bulges.

Suguru Geto's chopsticks paused. He sat beside Yan Si, quietly eating his own curry rice.

At the words "tingly and spicy," his chewing faltered.

That was clearly the stinging sensation caused by dilating capillaries after the mucous membranes in the mouth came into contact with an allergen.

He swallowed his food and corrected him. "That's an allergic reaction."

Yan Si nodded indifferently, reaching for another piece of pork. His tone was as casual as if he were agreeing that the weather was nice. "Yep, an allergic reaction."

"Is it serious?"

Satoru Gojo propped his head on one hand and watched him. His sunglasses rested at the edge of the table, leaving his azure eyes unobstructed as he stared at Yan Si's face.

He asked lightly, but the curiosity in his eyes wasn't mere polite interest.

Severe allergic reactions were a minor issue in Jujutsu Society.

But going into anaphylactic shock on a mission because you'd eaten the wrong thing would make for a much uglier death than getting killed by a cursed spirit-and one people would gleefully mock for years.

"Depends." Yan Si finished chewing his pork, tapped the rim of his bowl lightly with the tips of his chopsticks, and considered it. "If it's mild, I get a rash."

"And if it's bad?" Satoru Gojo pressed.

Yan Si tilted his head, seemingly running some sort of data search.

Two seconds later, he supplied an answer, his voice as matter-of-fact as if he were explaining a recipe. "It's not that serious. I just turn red all over, my capillaries dilate, my skin gets hotter, and then I sleep a little better."

The corners of Satoru Gojo's mouth began to twitch.

He tried to pick up a fried shrimp, but halfway through, his hand started shaking.

Not from fear. He was holding back laughter.

What did he mean, sleep more soundly?

An allergic reaction severe enough to cloud his consciousness and send his blood pressure plummeting was one step away from anaphylactic shock.

In Yan Si's dictionary, that counted as "sleeping more soundly."

Yan Si continued chewing his pork without a change in expression and added, "Sometimes I want to know whether the seafood products people sell are genuine. I'm pretty accurate as a testing device."

Satoru Gojo finally burst out laughing.

He leaned back in his chair and threw his head back, his white hair swaying beneath the cafeteria's fluorescent lights.

His laughter bounced around the high-ceilinged cafeteria, loud enough to make the condiment bottles on the next table tremble faintly.

The cafeteria lady poked her head out of the serving window, took one look, apparently decided this year's freshmen had worrying mental health, and ducked back inside.

"Hahahahaha! A testing device... pretty good, just costs you your life... hahaha..."

Satoru Gojo pointed his chopsticks at Yan Si as he laughed, nearly letting the fried shrimp slip off them.

It took him a good while to barely regain his composure, his chest still rising and falling faintly.

He turned toward Suguru Geto, still without his sunglasses, tears of laughter lingering at the corners of his eyes. "Geto, how effective do you think this device is?"

Suguru Geto was eating with his head down.

Suguru Geto wasn't picky. However awful food tasted, it was still better than cursed spirit orbs.

His lunch today was curry rice, with the sauce poured neatly over one side of the rice without a single splash on the rim of the plate.

At his name, he looked up, swallowing everything in his mouth before speaking.

First, he glanced at Yan Si.

Yan Si continued picking up pork as if none of this concerned him, not even lifting his eyelids.

Suguru Geto answered Satoru Gojo in a steady voice. "Not very useful."

"It's obviously accurate, okay?!" Yan Si protested at once, his chopsticks freezing in midair as he turned to glare at Suguru Geto, half a piece of meat still in his mouth.

Suguru Geto's chopsticks stopped beside his bowl.

He stared at Yan Si's utterly self-righteous face and fell silent for two seconds.

He didn't know whether to correct him or argue with him.

This absolute freak of a Yan Si was so fucking stubborn. He never listened to a word anyone said. Chat with him, and he'd laugh it off. Curse at him, and he'd laugh it off. Seriously explain the problem to him, and he'd still laugh it off-he might even come over and flirt with you.

More than once, Suguru Geto had wondered whether this guy was a fox or a cat that had taken human form.

Whatever he was, he certainly didn't seem human.

After the brief silence, he spoke. "...You'll get what's coming to you sooner or later."

His voice was calm and gentle, as though he were pronouncing a sentence.

Satoru Gojo's second bout of laughter hit even harder than the first.

He tilted sideways, his shoulder bumping into the back of Shoko's chair and throwing off the rhythm of her biting into her lollipop.

His laughter brought the cafeteria lady back to the window. This time she peered out a little longer, still holding her spatula, her expression plainly asking, "What on earth are these kids-these lunatics-doing?"

Shoko sat on the same side of the table, but had deliberately left an empty seat between them.

Her lunch consisted of a bowl of rice with grated yam, a small salted fish, and a steaming cup of green tea.

It was simple enough to verge on asceticism.

She had been eating quietly all this time, picking up a small piece of salted fish, placing it on the grated yam, then bringing it to her mouth with the rice.

Very nice.

Now, at last, she pulled the lollipop from her mouth and spoke. "You two laugh your heads off every day, whether there's anything to laugh about or not. You really sound mentally ill."

Her tone was as plain as the unsweetened tea in her hand-not sweet, not cloying, flavorless-but every word landed firmly on the table.

Suguru Geto said nothing and went back to eating his curry with his head down.

But the curve at the corners of his mouth was a tiny bit wider than it had been when he'd seen Yan Si smile in the hallway that morning.

He worked very hard to hide that tiny bit.

He shoveled in another mouthful of rice, puffing out his cheeks, and swallowed his smile along with the food.

"Shoko! How can you say that? People who love to laugh always have good luck~" Satoru Gojo struggled to sit upright, one hand clutching his stomach, sore from laughing, while the other still gestured in the air.

Yan Si's reaction was the complete opposite of Satoru Gojo's.

He swallowed everything in his mouth, set his chopsticks beside his bowl, then turned toward Shoko with an absurdly brilliant smile.

That smile was sweet enough to mix straight into her grated yam. "Then don't fall in love with me, okay~ Shoko~"

His long black hair was tied back with a red hair tie, a few shorter strands escaping to frame his extraordinarily beautiful face. Long black hair, purple eyes, a red mark between his brows, eyes curved in a smile-he was impossibly pretty.

Yes, the beauty trap again.

Shoko stared at him expressionlessly, her chopsticks suspended in midair.

That pretty face had gotten to her.

Once she snapped out of it, she fell silent for another two beats, during which she probably considered every possible counterattack.

Curse him out?

Roll my eyes?

Just leave?

In the end, she chose the option that required the least effort.

She lowered her head and picked up another bit of grated yam, her voice utterly flat. "Scumbag."

Then she went on eating.