Giddyup-

"My sense of adventure doesn't extend to standing on Satoru Gojo's shoulders." His tone was calm and firm.

"I'm not asking you to stand on his shoulders. You'd be standing on mine," Yan Si argued.

Suguru Geto: ...

Suguru Geto sighed. "But you're on his shoulders. I refuse."

Yan Si accepted the refusal, but he didn't give up on finding someone to join him.

His gaze swept around the training ground and locked unerringly onto the figure crouching in the shade.

Shoko had already finished her fourth lollipop.

She twirled the stick twice between her fingertips, debating whether to unwrap a fifth.

Medically speaking, four lollipops in one day already exceeded the recommended sugar intake. Psychologically speaking, though, after watching such a spectacular show, not having another would be doing herself a disservice.

"Sho-ko-"

Yan Si's Kansai dialect stretched into a long trail of sound across the open training ground, the final note bouncing between the walls twice before fading.

He waved at Shoko, even more vigorously than he had at Suguru Geto. His whole arm swung, as if he were afraid she wouldn't see him.

Shoko looked up, her expression as blank as a sheet of paper.

She watched Yan Si excitedly point at his own shoulders.

She looked at Satoru Gojo beneath his feet, his face darker than the bottom of a pot.

Then she glanced at Suguru Geto in the distance, wearing that subtle expression of "I see right through this, but I'm not saying a word."

Then she crossed two fingers in front of her chest.

The gesture was crisp and decisive, like an order in an operating room that allowed no argument.

"No." Her voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear, without the slightest hesitation.

Yan Si's hand remained suspended in midair, his expression frozen in disappointment before it could fully form.

Shoko unwrapped her fifth lollipop, popped it into her mouth, and added, "So stupid."

Two words. A precision strike.

Yan Si lowered his hand, a flicker of hurt crossing his purple eyes.

But that hurt, much like the tears he had shed for Satoru Gojo earlier, was extremely watery and superbly acted, with absolutely zero sincerity.

"None of you understand."

He shook his head, his tone carrying the loneliness of someone standing above the rest. "You'll never know the joy of standing on the strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer's shoulders."

Yan Si felt the support beneath his feet sink.

A dull crunch came from where Satoru Gojo stood.

It was the sound of his shoe grinding a small stone on the training ground's floor to pieces.

Satoru Gojo had actually calmed down already.

Not because anyone had soothed him, or because he had worked through it. He simply had the sort of youthful temperament in which emotions came and went quickly.

Once his anger passed, it passed. Give him another three minutes, and he would forget what he had been angry about.

He had even settled the matter in his mind: He played me. Noted. I'll find a chance to settle the score next time. Then he had moved on.

The problem was that Yan Si hadn't given him the chance to move on.

The anger that had just subsided flared up again the moment he heard Yan Si invite Suguru Geto, then Shoko.

And it flared up carrying a can of gasoline, the flames rising far higher than before.

Because this was no longer a matter of "playing him."

It was a matter of "playing him, then inviting other people to join in."

Those were two entirely different things.

Satoru Gojo stood there with Yan Si planted on his shoulders.

He listened as Yan Si invited Suguru Geto first, then Shoko.

He listened to that goddamn bastard assess his physique in terms of "shock absorption," and heard "He has the Six Eyes, you know" come out of the same mouth that had just accompanied those fake tears.

The fire in Satoru Gojo's chest burned hotter and hotter, but he couldn't find a reasonable outlet for it.

Because Yan Si's attitude had been far too matter-of-fact from start to finish.

It wasn't the kind of nonchalance that said, "I know I'm doing something bad, but you can't do anything about it." Satoru Gojo was that kind of person himself, and he knew that wasn't what Yan Si meant.

Yan Si's was a far more unassailable sort of nonchalance: "I genuinely think this is fun, and you should think it's fun too."

It was even arrogant.

Hit him? No. That would make me look like a sore loser.

Curse him out? I don't have the vocabulary.

Ignore him? Already doing that, but he doesn't care. He's still bouncing around on my shoulders.

An idea suddenly flashed through Satoru Gojo's mind.

Since Yan Si thought standing on his shoulders was fun, he would turn that "fun" into something that wasn't fun.

He hadn't worked out the details, but acting before thinking had always been Satoru Gojo's style.

While his brain was still putting together a complete plan, his body had already reacted.

His knees bent, his center of gravity dropped, and his feet pushed off the ground.

Satoru Gojo suddenly sprinted forward.

The movement came without warning.

He went from standing still to a full-speed sprint with virtually no transition.

Satoru Gojo's explosive power was enough to make anyone caught unprepared lose their balance instantly.

But Yan Si didn't lose his balance.

At the very instant Satoru Gojo bent his knees.

A fraction of a second before anyone else could detect it.

Yan Si's toes had already curled slightly against the insoles of his shoes, his ankles adjusted their angle, and his center of gravity dropped two centimeters.

So when Satoru Gojo shot forward, Yan Si's body merely tilted backward a little with the inertia, then regained its balance within a fraction of a second.

His knees bent slightly, bringing him into a half crouch. Both feet remained firmly planted on Satoru Gojo's shoulders, and he reached down to grab Satoru Gojo's hair.

Not yank. Grab.

His fingers slid through the strands and closed around a handful, with just enough force to keep his balance at high speed.

He did it so naturally that it looked as though he had done it countless times.

In truth, this was Yan Si's first time moving at high speed on someone else's shoulders, but his body possessed an instinctive adaptability that let him find the ideal balance point in an instant.

The training ground flew backward beneath them.

The gray floor blurred into a ribbon, the markings on the walls stretched into ghostly streaks, and the wind generated by their speed poured into Yan Si's uniform jacket, making its loose hem snap and flutter.

Yan Si's eyes lit up.

The thrill of their speed made his purple irises shine beautifully. The rapidly receding training ground reflected in his pupils, and his grin widened to its broadest point that day.

He released his other hand from Satoru Gojo's hair, casually using the sweat on his palm to smear the dried blood onto it.

Dried traces of blood from wiping his nosebleed still lingered on his fingertips. Now those dark red marks rubbed evenly onto Satoru Gojo's white hair, drawing several thin red streaks from root to tip.

Yan Si looked down, confirmed that the blood had been spread quite evenly, and nodded in satisfaction before returning his attention to their high-speed run.

He drew a deep breath and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Giddyup-"

The shout produced a peculiar reverberation across the open training ground.

Because Satoru Gojo was moving at high speed, the source of the sound was moving at high speed too. His voice stretched into a traveling trail of sound, dragging from one end of the training ground to the other, then back again.

Suguru Geto stood at the edge of the ground, watching Satoru Gojo roar past with Yan Si on his shoulders.

Yan Si's uniform jacket billowed with wind, his hair streamed straight back, and his purple eyes brimmed with excitement. He looked exactly like a child on a roller coaster.

As for the roller coaster himself-Satoru Gojo.

His steps faltered the instant he heard that "Giddyup."

Only for an instant. Then he kept running.

But two veins bulged on the back of his head.

The plan that had just come to him in a flash of inspiration went like this: accelerate suddenly and let inertia throw Yan Si off. The logic was clear. Yan Si maintained his balance on his shoulders through anticipation and physical reflexes. If he moved fast enough and changed direction suddenly enough, Yan Si would definitely lose his balance.

But there were two things Satoru Gojo hadn't anticipated.

First, Yan Si's reflexes and sense of balance far exceeded his estimates. Second, not only had Yan Si failed to fall off, he had grabbed his hair and used it as reins.

Grabbed his hair.

Used it as reins.

And shouted "Giddyup."

Bastard!

Satoru Gojo suddenly realized that his plan had a fatal flaw.

He had meant to make Yan Si's experience worse, but as things stood, the only one having a worse experience was him.

Yan Si was having even more fun up there than before.

That realization made Satoru Gojo's second plan take shape rapidly in his mind.

Change speed and make sharp turns.

First, he sprinted flat out for five seconds, then abruptly slowed without any warning.

The shift from extremely fast to extremely slow took less than half a second. His feet scraped against the ground with a shrill screech, and a thin wisp of bluish smoke even rose between his soles and the floor.

Inertia tipped Yan Si's body forward at a forty-five-degree angle.

But he didn't go flying.

His knees bent deeper the instant they slowed, pushing his center of gravity extremely low until he was practically squatting on Satoru Gojo's shoulders.

The hand holding his hair tightened a little.

Satoru Gojo felt a faint sting in his scalp.

Kitty was angry!