"From now on, he'll be taking over your hand-to-hand combat classes."
As Satoru Gojo finished speaking, he draped a hand over Kashimo's shoulder, fingers spread and palm pressed against the shoulder of his black, skintight outfit. He grinned like a cat that had stolen a fish.
"They're all yours, old Kashimo." He rubbed his hands together, making the gesture so exaggerated that he seemed to be preparing for something momentous.
"Scram."
Kashimo forced the word through his teeth. His voice wasn't loud, but it was as cold as winter wind slipping through a crack in the door.
"Okay, okay~"
Satoru Gojo's voice still lingered in the air, but he had already vanished. No footsteps, no fluctuations in cursed energy, not even the rustle of his clothes. He simply disappeared into thin air, like a drop of water evaporating in the sun.
Kashimo's gaze swept over the students before settling on Yuta Okkotsu. He looked him up and down, then back up again, thinking.
What was the name of that girl he cursed again? Rika, I think. The Queen of Curses, a special grade cursed spirit with an immense amount of cursed energy and some kind of power even I don't quite understand. Love really is the most twisted curse.
He turned that last sentence over in his mind, as though reading a piece of graffiti on a wall that he had seen countless times before.
Yet I don't know what love is. He didn't dwell on the thought. It slipped through his mind like a drop of water sliding down glass, leaving no trace behind.
"You're Okkotsu, right?" he asked. His voice was icy and flat, like a recording played at the press of a button.
"Y-yes." Yuta Okkotsu's voice trembled slightly, but he didn't avert his eyes. He stared