Missions really were a pain

Teacher Yaga leaving to teach another class made no real difference to me. At my age, having a teacher or not amounted to the same thing anyway.

Unfortunately, the lighter workload I had been longing for never materialized.

The Jujutsu Society Higher-Ups proved through their actions that even with these three prodigies joining us, my workload would not shrink.

The main reason was that they were first-year students, and one of them was the Six Eyes whom the Gojo Clan treasured beyond belief. While their ranks were still relatively low, their missions were worlds apart from mine.

The three of them frequently went out just to exorcise a single grade 2 cursed spirit. Tragically, the weakest cursed spirits I encountered were grade 1 at a minimum.

Me: Silence was my only answer tonight.

Life in my fifth year meant having no teachers at all and hardly anyone to keep me in line. I spent most of my time out on missions and the rest lying around my dorm room, bored.

There were no classes by then. At that stage, most jujutsu sorcerers were already seasoned veterans with enough experience to teach others.

The reason was probably that the cursed spirits had already weeded out those who had not learned enough or were not strong enough.

In other words, they had swiftly died within their first four years of school. At present, I was the only fifth-year student, and there was only one boy in the year below me.

There were only four of us across the third, fourth, and fifth years, but that was not really much of an issue. Even when we first enrolled, our combined numbers had been fewer than ten.

Thinking of it that way, the survival rate was not actually that low. A little under half of us had survived, after all.

The midnight breeze brushed against me again. How many times had I gazed up at the sky, not knowing where to go?

For the first time, I resented having such a good memory. For a very, very long time, I had wanted to forget what had happened and simply live my life.

But the way things ultimately turned out was usually difficult to put into words.

Every incident, every memory lingered in my heart and refused to leave. No matter how hard I tried, whenever I saw a place awash in blood, I could not help recalling those two figures.

Was I supposed to hurt? Perhaps.

Still, some things were enough to give anyone a headache. For example, those rotten higher-ups in Jujutsu Society had yet to abandon their plans to keep me penned up.

They had not tested my limits, though, so I had no plans to kill them outright.

In this dull, tedious journey through half a lifetime, they probably deserved some credit for my determination to stay alive.

After all, their deaths needed no justification. Their very existence was meaningless.

Ah, what should I do today?

Lately, I had begun avoiding bars. More precisely, I had not felt much like going for the past two years.

It had nothing to do with what had happened to my classmates. I simply could not accept the possibility of getting drunk.

Those rotten higher-ups were not particularly clever, but they had numbers on their side. Some reckless fool among them might try to take me down with him. That would give me a headache for a while.

How should I put it? These years of matching wits with them had been boring, yet somehow oddly entertaining.

Tell me, could the wind really carry longing away?

New people had moved into Nozomu Sakai's and Sōsuke Mizukawa's rooms. By coincidence, they were Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo. The difference was that the Gojo Clan had knocked down a wall for Satoru Gojo, joining two bedrooms together and filling the space with who knew how many bizarre things.

As expected of the Gojo Clan's young master. Even in the Port Mafia, I had never enjoyed that sort of treatment.

"Dazai?"

Suddenly, a door creaked open, followed by steady footsteps and a puzzled voice.

"Ah, Geto. What is it?"

At the sound, I turned around with a faint smile and gave Suguru Geto a little wave.

"Nothing. I hardly ever see you around, Dazai. I really couldn't sleep tonight, and when I saw you here, I came over to say hello."

As Suguru Geto answered, his eyes kept straying toward the direction I had been looking. Unfortunately, there was nothing there but darkness, so deep that you could not see your hand in front of your face.

"I see. Geto, cherish these happy days while you can. You haven't reached the point of having to run all over the world on missions yet."

I smiled faintly, a trace of warmth in my heterochromic brown eyes, as my thoughts seemed to drift back into the past.

"Is that what you have to do now?"

A hint of confusion appeared in Suguru Geto's eyes. To him, going on a mission every few days was already troublesome enough, although ordinary jujutsu sorcerers generally went out every day or two.

Still, none of them were like Osamu Dazai, someone you never saw at any hour of the day, yet knew for certain was busy.

"Are you thinking about the other jujutsu sorcerers?"

I smiled softly and asked Suguru Geto gently, my eyes full of guidance for my junior.

"Are you different from them, Dazai?"

Suguru Geto fell silent for a while, but in the end, he still could not work it out.

He could hardly be blamed. No one would deliberately ask about the past of someone so many years above them, and the pride of these two prodigies would never allow them to settle for second place.

Someone from an established clan, like Satoru Gojo, might understand Osamu Dazai's true worth. But Suguru Geto, a complete newcomer to Jujutsu Society, had no idea what sort of person Osamu Dazai was.

"There are currently two special grade sorcerers in Jujutsu Society. One is me, and the other is Yuki Tsukumo. Unfortunately, the other special grade sorcerer spends most of her time abroad and doesn't much like coming back."

"So I handle all the special grade cases in Asia alone, and most of the ones that require flying to Europe, too."

I answered with a light laugh, but after hearing what I had said, Suguru Geto fell into a rare silence.

"That must be exhausting."

"If I had to say, I'm used to it. But you have the potential to become a special grade sorcerer, you know. So hurry up and become one, then give me a hand."

"I will help you."

Suguru Geto answered with such conviction that what had originally been a teasing remark became something quite different.

"Really? Thank you, Geto. May I ask why you chose to join Jujutsu Society?"

I asked as if in passing, seemingly indifferent to his answer. In Suguru Geto's eyes, my heterochromic brown eyes looked like an abyss circling around him.

Even so, he answered without any resistance or aversion, as though something had drawn him in and the words had simply come naturally.

"Jujutsu sorcerers exist to protect non-sorcerers. That's why I came."

That was Suguru Geto's answer.

"Is that so? Geto, becoming a hero isn't always so easy."

"I think you may have misunderstood something. I-"

But before Suguru Geto could finish, I interrupted him. "Geto, before anything else, you should understand that the world isn't black and white. If you draw those lines too sharply, it will hurt all the more when they eventually shatter."

"How many people have entered the world hoping to save it, only to end up utterly broken by the wayside?"

"I have no doubt that you and Satoru are as hard as diamonds. But if something strikes straight at your heart, even a diamond can shatter."

Smiling faintly, I delivered those words at an unhurried pace, only to find myself recalling something Mori had once said: diamonds had to be polished with diamonds.

"But if you're comparing us to diamonds, shouldn't diamonds be unafraid of breaking?"

Suguru Geto thought for a moment before answering.

"Yes, diamonds aren't afraid of breaking. It's possible to find new life after being driven to the brink of death. Geto, perhaps you're that diamond."

"But finding new life that way is terribly painful. Could you bear it, Geto?"

As though something amusing had occurred to me, I smiled at the boy standing tall before me.

A prodigy hailed as the strongest alongside Satoru Gojo had his own pride. Ultimately, others might scheme over his future, but who could say what choice he would make in the end?

Under my gaze, Suguru Geto gave an involuntary cough, then raised his head again.

"If things really turn out the way you say, I think I could bear it. I don't know what happened to you before, but you're still standing here in front of me now, aren't you?"

"You said I was like a diamond. Then I believe that no matter what happens, I won't shatter."

Determination flashed in Suguru Geto's eyes. The conviction radiating from him was enough to stir anyone.

"Really? Then I'll look forward to seeing it, Geto."

My smile remained faint, just as it had been from the start. I was so gentle, as though we were merely making small talk, that Suguru Geto found it a little frustrating.

"But I'd like to know why you chose to compare me to a diamond."

Suguru Geto had never heard that diamond theory, so naturally, he knew nothing of those stories from my past. Perhaps no one in this world knew them.

"Hmm... if I had to explain, a former teacher of mine told me that diamonds had to be polished with diamonds. Later, I nearly ground the remaining diamond into powder."

Thinking of a certain Little Dark Midget at a time like this was truly unpleasant.

Still, was Chūya doing all right now?

If time was still flowing normally, even if this had been the world I transmigrated into from the start, Chūya would have inexplicably had to face his boss's sudden disappearance, suspected defection, or apparent death.

Then, in that awful world, he would somehow end up as the Port Mafia's fourth boss. Thinking of it that way, perhaps bringing Mori back would have been better.

The situation was still unsettled, and Chūya favored brute force. His brains were not that bad either, but compared with Mori's...

"What an awful situation."

I murmured softly, rubbed my slightly sore eyes, and patted Suguru Geto on the shoulder.

"What?"

"Go get some rest. I don't have classes tomorrow, but I can't say the same for you."

"Incidentally, it's already four in the morning."

I smiled and shook my head, then turned back toward my dorm room without another look at Suguru Geto, who stood there stunned.

I did not actually dislike people like Suguru Geto, who saw things in black and white. He had his own charm, of course, or so many people would not have liked him.

In short, everything was fine with me as long as he did not bother me. If he did, however, I was afraid I would genuinely have a headache for a while.

Unfortunately for him, aside from hand-to-hand combat, I was Suguru Geto's natural counter. Every cursed spirit he possessed would vanish upon touching me.

Once I came into contact with anything involving cursed spirits or cursed techniques, nothing could continue to exist in this world, apart from techniques inherent to a person and enchanted cursed tools, which were only temporarily nullified.

That was No Longer Human. Throw me alone into a crowd of cursed spirits, and I would walk out unscathed. Whether a single cursed spirit would survive was another matter.

That was roughly what being a natural counter meant.

Still, I was not actually that busy. Or rather, even if most of the missions were assigned to me, I naturally found ways to dodge plenty of them.

In the course of matching wits with the Jujutsu Society Higher-Ups, I had actually built up a considerable force of my own. After enduring Osamu Dazai's influence, I understood better than anyone that a lone person could not take their place at the board.

Most people simply did not know I was using them as blades, nor did they know that, in certain people's eyes, they already belonged to me.

After all, abandoning a pawn was easy. The only pawn I currently had no intention of discarding was the Sorcerer Killer, Toji Zenin.

Hmm... although he spent most of his time living quite happily with his wife and son.

Often, when I visited his home, I would find Toji Zenin wearing the Pink Teddy-Bear Apron, a knife in his left hand, a spatula in his right, and a little Megumi Zenin perched on his shoulder.

How should I put it? It was an assault on the eyes.

As long as his wife was home, every star and the sun itself had to revolve around her. His son could be casually tossed aside and ignored, but the slightest bump to his wife would leave him fretting for ages.

Me: ...I should just throw this hopeless fool away!

By then, I felt as though Toji Zenin had thoroughly poisoned my mind. Of course, I did not mind him spending ninety percent of his time with his wife and son.

After all, she really was a beautiful, gentle woman who could also earn enough to support the family.

Hmm... put that way, I still could not understand how that woman had fallen for Toji Zenin while he was working as a host.

But I also had to admit that, for that lovely woman, marrying Toji Zenin might not have been a bad thing at all.

Just look at him: even outside the house, his answer to everything was, "My wife decides." Every mission was scheduled at night. Do not ask what he did during the day.

He had to clean, soothe his child, take him to and from school, make his wife's lunch, cook, do the laundry, and tirelessly buy gifts for her.

More than once, he called me in the middle of the day just to ask what sorts of things his wife might like.

Me: *...*

Still, I understood what he was getting at. He just wanted to show off, did he not?

All in all, I did not know what to do with this man who more or less counted as my subordinate. He was very easy to keep under control, and as long as he did not dump his troubles on me, that was a good thing.

Still, although he was the same Toji Zenin from the anime when out on missions, off duty he was so drastically different that it made my vision go dark.

In short, I spent most of my time going on missions, turning into a complete layabout, attempting suicide, visiting Toji Zenin's happy family, and finally pestering Teacher Yaga to no end. What a full day.

Teacher Yaga was furious every time I did that, of course. Naturally, naturally, I did not care about that in the slightest.

So, after I had just spoken to Suguru Geto yesterday, when I neither went on a mission nor visited Toji Zenin, this was what happened.

Teacher Yaga finally could not bear my pestering anymore. In a thoroughly foul mood, he grabbed me by the back of my collar, attempting to haul away one very pitiful kitty.

He intended to throw this kitty down from upstairs, but worried that, given the kitty's constitution, the fall might kill him. After a moment of silence, he slowly set the kitty on the floor instead, gaining a pitiful kitty sitting with his arms around his knees and his head lowered.

Masamichi Yaga: Fine. This was my own wayward student, and I had personally recruited him.

"Dazai, stay put!"

Teacher Yaga said that, but he still did not throw me out of the classroom. He looked at me sitting sweetly and obediently on a desk off to the side.

He suppressed the vein throbbing on his forehead, settled me in, and opened his book to resume the lesson.

Teacher Yaga... he was a very good person, and a wonderful teacher.

With that thought, I raised my head and watched Teacher Yaga write briskly across the blackboard. How long had it been since I had seen this?

No, I should have said I had never seen it at all. By the time Teacher Yaga took charge of me, Sakai and Mizukawa were already dead.

By the third year of high school, most students no longer needed these written explanations. Practice was the only way to demonstrate the truth. At least, that was what most people in Jujutsu Society believed.

So all I had needed to do back then was go on missions day after day. Since most students at that age could already carry out missions independently, the number of times Teacher Yaga accompanied me could be counted on one hand.

But I had never denied that Teacher Yaga was an excellent teacher.

When exactly had I begun to think that?

My heterochromic brown eyes stared fixedly at Teacher Yaga, but my thoughts could not help drifting back several years.

When I was summoned before the Jujutsu Society Higher-Ups yet again and forced to listen to those rotten higher-ups drone on yet again, Teacher Yaga came to argue with them, then finally dragged me away in anger.

Countless times, when my actions had nearly earned me the label of curse user, Teacher Yaga had protected me, over and over again.

Without my noticing, Teacher Yaga had fully matured. He had become thoroughly dependable.

Occasionally, I drove him to fits of fury, but he never behaved that way with the other students.

What Teacher Yaga told me most often was, "You didn't cause this, and you're not the one at fault."

He cared deeply about my mental health. After discovering my repeated suicide attempts, he found counselors for me on numerous occasions.

When he realized that none of those counselors could do anything for me, he spent countless late nights poring over psychology books himself.

He tried to guide me patiently. Sometimes, the black sludge inside my heart startled him, but he never once spoke of giving up.

What a wonderful teacher. More than once, I had thought how good it would have been if the first teacher I met had been someone like him.

Teacher Yaga truly was someone who sheltered me completely behind him.

As long as my actions did not cross the boundaries of morality and law, Teacher Yaga could steadfastly believe that I was a good boy, and that the terrible things I had experienced had merely shaped my current personality.

What a good person.

"Dazai!"

Suddenly, I seemed to hear Teacher Yaga roar, and I looked up blankly.

"Hmm?"

"Did you hear a single word I said?"

"I heard you, I heard you. Lead a team to exorcise a special grade cursed spirit, right? But sending first-year students to exorcise a special grade cursed spirit-have those rotten higher-ups lost their minds?"

Masamichi Yaga: ...He really hadn't expected Osamu Dazai to hear what he was saying while spacing out, let alone chime in with a perfectly timed quip.

Fine. He'd known all along that a genius like Osamu Dazai couldn't be understood by normal people's standards.

In the end, Masamichi Yaga gave up on getting angry and cheerfully consoled himself that at least Dazai had listened. After taking a few seconds to settle his nerves that way, he calmed down again and began briefing them.

"This mission is extremely dangerous. A special grade cursed spirit would be almost devastating for you, so stick close to Dazai, whatever happens."

"He may not be entirely normal, but as long as you stay with him, your safety is guaranteed."

Masamichi Yaga kept lecturing the people in front of him. Fine, get on with the lecture, but why did he have to say I wasn't entirely normal?

"Teacher Yaga, why are you bad-mouthing me right to my face? That's so mean. You'll ruin my reputation with my juniors."

I looked at them with wide brown eyes and an innocent expression.

"You already ruined your reputation with your suicide attempts."

Masamichi Yaga held nothing back in his retort, casting a brief glance at me from behind his sunglasses.

"Huuuh?"

I drew out the sound, my eyes brimming with an innocence that only Teacher Yaga would find headache-inducing.

"Also, Dazai, you're the one I worry about most whenever you go on a mission."

Masamichi Yaga frowned at me as he spoke, his tone steeped in helplessness.

"You're leading the first-year juniors this time. Don't find some random branch to hang yourself from, don't suddenly run off to jump into a river, don't slit your wrists with a knife, and don't spout your thoughts on suicide whenever and wherever you please..."

At those words from Teacher Yaga-

Suguru Geto: !!!

Satoru Gojo: ???

Shoko Ieiri: ...

Three very bewildered first-years.

After all, as far as they knew, I spent my days either holed up in my dorm room or out on missions, and they could never find me. Of course, since they didn't have that much freedom, they couldn't exactly stumble across me attempting suicide all over the school at any hour, either.

So they'd always treated the suicidal person they'd met on the first day of school as a passing incident. They'd never imagined I was actually like this.

Still, no matter how you looked at it, all three of them were thoroughly bewildered.

"Yes, yes, yes, I get it, Teacher Yaga. It's not like I'm an elementary school kid."

"You're more trouble than an elementary school kid."

Something seemed to occur to Masamichi Yaga, and the sight of Osamu Dazai's utterly unconcerned expression made his head hurt even more.

But since they were pressed for time, Masamichi Yaga ultimately said little else. After giving them a few more reminders, he told them to hurry up, get ready, and head to the Assistant Supervisor's car.

This was one of the rare occasions when I went on a mission in broad daylight. Most of the time, I hated sunlight and heat, so my Assistant Supervisors were often forced to head out on missions with me at two or three in the morning, then make sure we returned before dawn.

Teacher Yaga always said I'd single-handedly brought the Assistant Supervisors' sleep schedules into perfect alignment with mine.

But I didn't mind going out on missions alone, so the higher-ups of the Jujutsu Society shelved their criticism of my heading out at two or three in the morning.

So, in the end, those higher-ups still hadn't given up on monitoring me? Didn't they get tired of it, day after day? Hard to know what to say.

"Oh my, a familiar face."

Standing ahead of everyone else with the Complete Suicide Manual, which I revered as a literary masterpiece, clasped in my arms, I was the first to get into the Assistant Supervisor's car. There I found an old acquaintance, an Assistant Supervisor who had driven me countless times, without much fuss or unnecessary chatter.

To be precise, he was the only Assistant Supervisor so far who had stayed with me for more than three months without dying.

"M-Mr. Dazai."

"Hmm? What are you afraid of? I really don't understand why you'd be scared of an ordinary student like me. Still, don't frighten my juniors. Learning to keep your mouth shut is an art too, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Ishida?"

"Ahem, yes, yes. I understand, Mr. Dazai."

Akikage Ishida wiped nonexistent cold sweat from his forehead and kept nodding, unable to stop. When the other three students climbed into the car, only Satoru Gojo gave him a long, searching look, though he said nothing.

"You can't die for love alone~ But two can die for love together~ A lovers' suicide, a lovers' suicide~ You can't die for love alone~"

I put on my headphones and kept humming my self-composed little lovers' suicide ditty, staring fixedly at the world outside. Ah, how should I put it? The world really was a strange and wondrous thing.

I just wondered whether this special grade cursed spirit would be a little interesting.