Not much damage, maximum humiliation

Halfway through the banquet, Zhiyan and the other five excused themselves, claiming they were tired, and headed to a lounge.

Though called a lounge, it was more like a small living room-a few comfortable sofas arranged in a semicircle around a low coffee table, with a drinks counter and snack rack in one corner and a row of bookshelves by the window. The warm yellow lighting lent everything a drowsy, reassuring glow.

Unexpectedly, Principal Shirakawa suddenly called Shoko away.

As soon as Satoru Gojo entered, he picked the biggest sofa and flopped onto it, spreading his limbs and taking up more than half the couch.

"I'm exhausted," he complained, drawing out the words. "This is more tiring than exorcising cursed spirits."

Wana glanced at him, then sat in a nearby armchair.

"What have you got to be tired about? You looked pretty lively in the banquet hall, flitting around chatting everyone up like a social butterfly."

Satoru Gojo rolled over and buried his face in a cushion, his voice muffled.

"How is that the same? Fighting tires your body out. Dealing with people wears you out mentally. Those people looked at me like I was a monkey in a zoo-'Oh, so this is the Six Eyes. Let me see what's so special about him.'"

He mimicked them in a pinched voice, dripping with disdain.

Xian Di walked over to the drinks counter and poured himself some water, raising an eyebrow at that.

"So you know you're a monkey?"

Satoru Gojo lifted his head from the cushion and glared at him.

"You're a monkey. Your whole family's monkeys."

Xian Di ignored him, took his water to another sofa, and picked up a magazine from the coffee table to leaf through.

"Shoko got called away," Satoru Gojo suddenly said.

He sat up cross-legged on the sofa, resting his hands on his knees with a conspiratorial expression.

"Aren't you curious what old man Shirakawa wants with her?"

Nobody answered him.

Unbothered, Satoru Gojo swept his gaze over their faces before finally settling on Zhiyan.

His eyes lit up. He sprang off the sofa and hurried over to Zhiyan.

Then-

He bent at the waist, stuck his backside out, and brought his face close to Zhiyan's ear.

He looked utterly ridiculous.

"Hey, Zhiyan," he whispered, his smug tone practically saying, I know you want to know, but I'm going to make you ask. "Don't you want to know why old man Shirakawa called Shoko away alone?"

Zhiyan did not even raise his eyelids.

"No."

Satoru Gojo froze, clearly not expecting that answer. He blinked, then leaned a little closer.

"Seriously? Aren't you afraid someone will steal Shoko away?"

Zhiyan remained perfectly at ease, his tone as calm as if he were commenting on the pleasant weather.

"No."

Refusing to give up, Satoru Gojo leaned closer still, practically draping himself over Zhiyan.

"Aren't you even a little worried about Shoko?"

This time, Zhiyan finally turned his head.

Satoru Gojo's eyes lit up, his lips curling into a grin that said, I knew there was no way you didn't care. He waited for Zhiyan to speak, waited for him to look nervous, waited for him to-

"No."

Zhiyan's voice was faint, like mist scattered by the wind.

Satoru Gojo's expression froze.

He straightened, his anticipation turning to disbelief, then his disbelief turning to frustrated outrage.

"Hey!"

He planted his hands on his hips and glared at Zhiyan, his voice shooting up an octave.

"That's your wife! Aren't you worried about your own wife? Are you even a man?"

The instant those words left his mouth-

The air in the lounge seemed to freeze.

Suguru Geto nearly dropped his book. He quickly caught it and lowered his head, pretending he had heard nothing and was absorbed in reading, though he had already read the same page three times.

Xian Di's hand paused on the magazine. Then he casually lifted his glass and took a sip, only the faint twitch of his lips betraying him.

Wana clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide as she looked between Zhiyan and Satoru Gojo. She might not have been the target, but that did nothing to spare her the wave of secondhand embarrassment.

A vein bulged visibly on Zhiyan's forehead.

He slowly turned to face Satoru Gojo.

A smile rested on his face.

That smile-

How should one put it?

If smiles had a temperature, Zhiyan's would have been close to absolute zero-a positively lethal sort of "kindness."

"Satoru Gojo," Zhiyan said softly, gently-so gently it sent chills down everyone's spine. "What did you say? I didn't catch that. Say it again."

Looking at that smile, Satoru Gojo felt a chill run down his back.

He suddenly realized-

Whatever was happening with Shoko was now the least of his problems.

"Uh..." Satoru Gojo took a step back and laughed awkwardly. "I meant... well... Shoko's an important teammate, so it's only natural to show some concern, right? Haha... haha..."

He kept backing away as he spoke, but it was already too late.

Zhiyan did not say another word.

He merely raised a hand slightly.

The next second-

Satoru Gojo felt the ground vanish beneath his feet. He lost his balance, and the world spun before his eyes. By the time he realized what was happening, he was hanging upside down in midair.

He looked down in horror-or rather, up-and discovered that a huge toad had caught him. It clung to the ceiling, its round eyes bulging, its long tongue wrapped tightly around his limbs and torso.

"Zhiyan, you-" Satoru Gojo had barely begun shouting when something sticky splattered over his mouth.

His eyes widened. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Xian Di giving him a thumbs-up, a warm smile on his face.

I'm screwed. Xian Di, you bastard-

Satoru Gojo screamed inwardly, but Xian Di's blood had sealed his mouth shut, leaving him capable of nothing but muffled whimpers.

A moment later, a pair of legs appeared before him.

Satoru Gojo struggled to lift his head and saw Zhiyan standing in front of him, looking down at him with that same gentle smile.

"Gojo," Zhiyan said, loosening his wrist, "I didn't quite hear what you said. Could you repeat it?"

"Mmph! Mmph! Mmph!" Satoru Gojo shook his head frantically, his eyes pleading, I was wrong! I really was wrong!

Zhiyan nodded.

"Oh, you don't want to say it anymore? Perfect. I don't want to hear it anymore, either."

Then he raised his hand.

"Mmmph! Mmmph!"

Satoru Gojo began struggling violently, but the toad's tongue bound his hands and feet so tightly that he could not move. All he could do was watch Zhiyan's fist strike his body-

Thump!

The punch landed squarely in Satoru Gojo's stomach.

His body swung in the air like a hanging pendulum. His face flushed crimson, but with his mouth sealed shut, he could not even scream. Only a muffled grunt escaped.

Thump!

Another punch.

"Mmmph-"

Satoru Gojo was nearly in tears. Not from pain-fine, it hurt a little-but mostly from humiliation. He, Satoru Gojo, wielder of the Six Eyes and future head of the Gojo Clan, was hanging in midair getting pummeled like a punching bag.

And the worst part was-

That bastard Zhiyan was using Reverse Cursed Technique on him while beating him up.

One punch, then healed. Another punch, then healed.

Not much damage, maximum humiliation.

Satoru Gojo wept inwardly.

Why wasn't I fighting back with my cursed technique? What do you know? This is strategy!

You think I'm an idiot? I'm actually smart as hell!

If I don't let Zhiyan use me as a punching bag and blow off steam today, that sneaky bastard will definitely have something worse in store for me later.

He understood the principle of choosing the lesser of two evils.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Zhiyan's fists rained down, each punch precisely avoiding vital areas, yet each powerful enough to teach Satoru Gojo what a harsh lesson from life felt like.

The other three-

Suguru Geto, Xian Di, and Wana sat on the sofas, cracking sunflower seeds that had appeared from who knew where as they watched this one-sided "sparring session" with great interest.

"What was he hoping to achieve?" Suguru Geto asked, cracking a seed with a hint of helplessness in his voice.

Xian Di smiled and shook his head.

"Maybe he ate too much dessert today and the sugar clogged his brain. Didn't you see him at the banquet? He looked like a refugee who hadn't eaten in three days."

"I think he did it on purpose," Suguru Geto said thoughtfully. "He just can't keep his mouth shut. He gets uncomfortable if he doesn't say something."

"So he's just asking for a beating, isn't he?" Wana chimed in, cracking seeds rapidly from the handful she held. "My brother's beaten him up plenty of times. Why does he never learn?"

"Never learning is another of Satoru Gojo's talents," Xian Di remarked.

The three exchanged looks, shook their heads in unison, and went back to their sunflower seeds.

Thump!

Another punch.

Satoru Gojo swayed in midair, tears now streaming down his face.

Wana could hardly bear to watch. Gojo had been the one to provoke her brother, but seeing him beaten like this still tugged at her conscience.

"Come on, that's enough," she ventured. "If you keep hitting him, he'll really start crying."

"He's already crying," Suguru Geto pointed out.

Indeed, two glistening trails of tears streaked Satoru Gojo's face, sparkling beneath the lights.

Zhiyan ignored them and threw another punch.

Thump!

Meanwhile, in another lounge.

The atmosphere was entirely different.

This lounge was smaller than the students' room and more simply furnished. A low table, a few cushions, a piece of calligraphy on the wall, and a neatly trimmed potted plant in the corner.

Three people sat around the low table.

Principal Shirakawa occupied the head seat, a kindly smile on his face. Yaga sat beside him, his back straight and his expression as stern as ever. Shoko sat opposite Shirakawa, her posture proper and her hands resting neatly on her knees.

"Shoko," Shirakawa began gently, "there's no need to be nervous. We only called you here to ask what you think."

Shoko nodded slightly without speaking and quietly waited for him to continue.

Shirakawa glanced at Yaga, who took the cue and picked up the conversation.

"It's about the Goodwill Event's Team Competition," Yaga said in his low voice. "We wanted to ask whether you'd like to participate."

Shoko blinked, showing no surprise.

Yaga paused, then added, "Don't worry about anything. Just tell us what you think. Whatever you decide, the school will respect your choice."

Shoko remained silent for a few seconds.

She was a clever girl and had already guessed the general purpose of this conversation before arriving.

"Are you worried that my Reverse Cursed Technique will affect the fairness of the competition?" she asked.

Shirakawa froze for a moment, then laughed.

"Haha, you're a quick one, aren't you?"

He stroked his nonexistent beard and nodded frankly.

"Yes, that's exactly it. Your Reverse Cursed Technique is incredibly precious, one of a kind in all of Jujutsu Society. If you participate in the Team Competition and provide healing support from the rear, Tokyo Jujutsu High's team will effectively have unlimited staying power."

He paused, his tone growing serious.

"That would indeed be a little unfair to the students of Kyoto Jujutsu High."

Shoko nodded in understanding.

Rather than answer immediately, she quietly considered it for a while.

Then she lifted her head and looked at Shirakawa and Yaga.

"Then does the school want me to participate?"

The question caught both Shirakawa and Yaga off guard.

Yaga recovered first, his expression growing even more serious.

"Shoko," he said, using her given name rather than calling her Ieiri, "if you want to participate, no one will stop you."

Shirakawa also set aside his smile and looked at her earnestly.

"Yaga is right. The school will always stand behind you. If you want to participate, we'll arrange it. We can find another solution to the issue of fairness. But first and foremost-you must want to do it."

Looking at the two teachers before her, Shoko felt warmth well up in her heart.

She was silent for a moment before her lips curved into a faint smile.

"In that case-"

She paused.

"I think I'll sit this one out."

Yaga's brow furrowed slightly.

"Shoko, you don't need to hold back-"

"It's not because I'm worried."

Shoko interrupted him, her tone calm but firm.

Yaga froze, swallowing the words on the tip of his tongue.

Shoko looked at him and said earnestly:

"I'm not sitting out because I'm worried about anything. It's because-"

She lifted her head slightly, her gaze passing through the wall toward the place where Zhiyan and the others were resting.

Five people were there who gave her endless headaches, yet whom she trusted completely.

"I have faith in Zhiyan and the others."

Her voice was quiet, but every word was clear and certain.

"I want the people at Kyoto Jujutsu High to know-"

She turned back to meet Yaga's and Shirakawa's eyes, the smile on her lips deepening a little.

"Even without me, they can win the competition easily."

The room fell silent for a few seconds.

Then Shirakawa suddenly burst out laughing.

His laughter was hearty and unrestrained, making the teacups on the table tremble slightly.

"Good! 'Win the competition easily'-I like that!"

He slapped his thigh, laughing until his eyes narrowed to slits.

"It seems we old men have underestimated you youngsters!"

He looked at Yaga, his eyes full of approval.

"Yaga, this student of yours is remarkable."

Yaga's expression softened as well. A flicker of pride crossed his eyes as he looked at Shoko, but he quickly resumed his stern expression.

"In that case," he said, "it's settled."

Shirakawa nodded.

"Shoko, you may head back now."

Shoko stood and gave a proper bow.

"I'll take my leave, then."

She turned, walked to the door, pushed it open, and stepped outside.

The door closed gently behind her.

Silence returned to the room.

Shirakawa lifted his teacup, took a sip, then gave Yaga a meaningful look.

"It seems we were both mistaken about something, Yaga."

"About what?"

"We always thought that girl was the one among the six who needed the most protection. Reverse Cursed Technique is precious, but it can't be used to fight, so we instinctively treated her as someone who needed to be sheltered behind the others."

He paused.

"But that girl has far more backbone than we imagined."

Yaga fell silent.

Shirakawa smiled.

"Even without her connection to the Zenin Clan, that girl isn't someone people can push around. She has real strength of character."

Yaga lowered his head, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

"Yes," he said. "They all do."

Shirakawa burst out laughing, raised his teacup, and drained it.

"All right, we've got proper business tomorrow. Get some rest, Yaga."

"Yes."

Yaga stood, bowed, and left the room.

Sitting alone in his chair, Shirakawa murmured to himself.

"The children of this generation... they really are different."

His voice was soft, fading into the night.

Shoko walked down the corridor, her footsteps echoing softly through its empty length.

Her expression was calm, but the faintest hint of a smile lingered on her lips.

When she reached the lounge, she pushed open the door.

Then-

She froze.

The sight before her was decidedly bizarre:

A giant toad clung to the ceiling, its long tongue binding Satoru Gojo tightly and suspending him upside down in midair. Tear tracks streaked Satoru Gojo's face, and a mass of something dark red sealed his mouth, leaving him able to make only muffled whimpers.

Zhiyan stood in front of him, his sleeves rolled to his elbows, throwing punches.

Thud!

A punch landed, and Satoru Gojo's body swayed.

Thud!

Another punch.

Meanwhile, Suguru Geto, Xian Di, and Wana sat in a row on the nearby sofa, each holding a handful of sunflower seeds and happily cracking them open. Wana's cheeks bulged like a squirrel storing food.

Xian Di was the first to notice Shoko entering. He turned toward the door, the sunflower seeds in his hand stopping at his lips as his expression stiffened slightly.

Then Suguru Geto noticed her too. He instinctively tried to hide the seeds in his hand, but decided the gesture was too stupid and awkwardly held his seed-eating pose instead.

Wana was still engrossed in the spectacle and only snapped out of it when Suguru Geto nudged her with his elbow. Following their gazes toward the door, she nearly spat out her sunflower seeds.

"Sh-Shoko! You're back!" Wana hurriedly tossed her seeds onto the coffee table and scrambled to her feet.

Zhiyan's fist stopped in midair.

He turned and saw Shoko standing in the doorway, watching everything with an almost excessively calm gaze.

His expression went through several changes in an instant-from murderous geniality to confusion, from confusion to guilt, and from guilt to... some indescribable sort of panic.

Satoru Gojo saw Shoko too.

With Xian Di's blood stuffed in his mouth, he couldn't speak, but his tearful eyes brimmed with a complicated plea: Shoko, you're finally back! Please rein in your husband! Look what he's done to me!

Shoko remained silent for three seconds.

Then she entered the room and closed the door.

She walked over to Wana and patted her shoulder.

"Give me some too."

Wana froze for a moment, then hurriedly pulled a handful of sunflower seeds from her pocket and offered them to her.

Shoko took the seeds and sat down beside Wana.

She cracked open a seed, looking at the upside-down Satoru Gojo and Zhiyan, who stood frozen in place.

"Go on," she said with keen interest. "Don't let me interrupt."

Zhiyan: "..."

Satoru Gojo: "..."

Zhiyan silently lowered his fist.

He released his Cursed Technique, and the toad vanished without a sound, its tongue loosening around Satoru Gojo. Seeing this, Xian Di hurriedly released his own Cursed Technique. The blood sealing Satoru Gojo's mouth turned into tiny droplets and returned to Xian Di's body.

With a thump, Satoru Gojo fell from midair and sprawled on the floor like a dried-out salted fish.

At last, he could make a sound.

But he didn't cry out in pain, shout, or even curse.

He simply lay quietly on the floor, shedding silent tears.

He looked for all the world like a bullied young wife.

Wana felt a little sorry for him at the sight of his miserable state. She walked over, crouched beside Satoru Gojo, hesitated, then reached out to pat his back gently.

"Um... are you all right?"

Satoru Gojo didn't lift his head. His voice was muffled, with a hint of a sob.

"That bastard Zhiyan... he kept using Reverse Cursed Technique while he hit me... do you know what that feels like...? It hurts, but it doesn't... it's just humiliating..."

Wana pressed her lips together, holding back a laugh.

"There, there. That's what you get for running your mouth."

"What was wrong with what I said...?" Satoru Gojo muttered indignantly. "Shoko is his wife, isn't she...?"

"You're still saying it!" Wana smacked him on the head.

Satoru Gojo finally lifted his head, his eyes red and two tear tracks still streaking his face. He saw Shoko sitting on the sofa eating sunflower seeds, looking as calm as if nothing had happened.

"Shoko..." he called pitifully.

Shoko glanced at him, then at Zhiyan, the corners of her lips lifting slightly.

"You deserved it," she said.

Satoru Gojo felt even more wronged.

He pushed himself into a sitting position and rubbed his wrists, which bore red marks from being bound, still muttering something under his breath. Beside him, Wana popped a piece of chocolate she'd produced from somewhere into his mouth. He ate it, and his mood visibly improved.

Zhiyan stood where he was and coughed awkwardly. He stole a glance at Shoko and found her looking at him too.

Their eyes met.

Shoko tilted her head, giving him an enigmatic smile.

For some reason, Zhiyan's face grew warm, and he looked away.

"Um..." He cleared his throat. "What did Principal Shirakawa want to talk to you about?"

Rather than answering immediately, Shoko leisurely cracked open another seed.

"Nothing major," she said. "He just asked whether I wanted to enter the Team Competition."

Everyone's eyes turned to her.

"So?" Satoru Gojo asked indistinctly, still chewing his chocolate. "Are you entering?"

Shoko shook her head.

"No."

Wana said anxiously, "Did the teachers forbid you from entering? If they did, get my brother to..."

Shoko interrupted her. "Wana, I decided not to enter myself. As for why, it's because I believe in you. Even without me, you can beat them, can't you?" With that, Shoko smiled.

Hearing Shoko's answer, everyone smiled with the same sense of relief. That was right-they were the strongest, best group of six. It was just a competition. All they had to do was win.

On the way back to the dorms, Shoko linked her arm through Zhiyan's and said pointedly,

"Wana told me everything about why you hit Gojo. Don't you have anything to say?"

Looking at Zhiyan's largely unchanged expression, Shoko feigned a sigh and said,

"It looks like Gojo was right. You don't care about me at all..."

Zhiyan suddenly stopped. Startled, Shoko looked at him as he turned to face her, his eyes deeply earnest.

"Shoko, whatever you choose, whatever you decide, I'll support you. And of course, no one will ever take you away from me. Even if someone does, no matter how many mountains and rivers lie between us, I'll find you again. And I care about you. Very much."

Shoko stared at his earnest face and began to laugh. Her laughter grew louder and louder, clear, airy, and utterly infectious.

"Honestly, who says something that romantic with such a straight face? But I'm the one who chose you, aren't I? I've certainly got my work cut out for me for the rest of my life."

Hearing her words, Zhiyan began to laugh along with her.

Bathed in moonlight, they truly were radiant.