The next day.
In the second-year classroom, Satoru Gojo sat cross-legged on top of a desk as he pleased, tossing a small, antique brown wooden box between his hands.
After a while, he grew bored and leaned over to rummage through Shoko Ieiri's desk drawer for sweets, ignoring the look she gave him as though he were scum.
He took three candies at once, leaving the last one for Shoko Ieiri to eat when her cigarette cravings struck.
Satoru Gojo happily popped one into his mouth, then smacked his lips and forcibly stuffed the other two into his best friends' mouths. Sharing was mandatory.
Tsukasa Hatayama and Suguru Geto wiped their mouths in disgust, both glaring at him before returning to their manga and studies.
Bored, Satoru Gojo started tossing the little wooden box again and complained, "Geto, Tsukasa, I'm so bored. How about we call Utahime and bully her?"
"Oh, Utahime, Utahime, why did you have to graduate? Now that you've graduated, all my fun is gone. I can't even go to Kyoto to pick on you."
"Utahime, oh, Utahime..."
His words went in one ear and out the other. The two of them were used to pretending he didn't exist.
Shoko Ieiri, however, secretly recorded his complaints on her phone and promptly sent them to Utahime Iori, letting her hear how much the scumbag missed her.
Seconds later, an email from their senior Utahime arrived. Shoko opened it to find a long tirade consisting entirely of the word "scumbag."
With nothing better to do, Shoko Ieiri counted them. There were exactly 444 instances of "scumbag." That number alone told her Utahime was practically exploding with rage.
Before long, Satoru Gojo's phone rang.
Puzzled, he answered it, only for Utahime Iori's furious curses to pour out. "Scumbag, scumbag, scumbag, scumbag, scumbag, scumbag, scumbag, scumbag, scumbag, scumbag, scumbag, scumbag, scumbag, scumbag, scumbag, scumbag, scumbag..."
The chant-like barrage made Satoru Gojo's face darken, but a wickedly mischievous look soon spread across his handsome features.
He cleared his throat a few times, then mercilessly fired back, "Weakling Utahime, weakling Utahime, weakling Utahime, weakling Utahime, weakling Utahime, weakling Utahime, weakling Utahime, weakling Utahime, weakling Utahime, weakling Utahime, weakling Utahime, weakling Utahime..."
Bam!
Just as Satoru Gojo was thoroughly enjoying himself, a heavy fist struck from above with familiar force, raising a large bump squarely on top of his head.
Looking utterly wronged, Satoru Gojo hung up and returned to his seat like a mouse confronted by a cat.
Masamichi Yaga, who had appeared at the lectern at some point, gave an irritated snort. He had been in a fairly good mood before coming to the classroom, but after stepping inside...
He was furious!
Masamichi Yaga's eyes bulged as he leaned his burly frame over the lectern. "Didn't you say you found Sukuna's Finger? Hurry up and hand it over."
Not daring to cause any more trouble, Satoru Gojo held the little wooden box above his head with an aggrieved expression.
Masamichi Yaga took it with a solemn look, then gently pushed the lid upward, revealing half a finger wrapped in eerie cursed seals.
After repeatedly confirming that it was Sukuna's Finger, Masamichi Yaga closed the box again, told them to study on their own, and hurried away.
Yet just as he was about to step through the door, Tsukasa Hatayama suddenly looked up from his studies and called out, "Mr. Yaga, could you let me take a look at Sukuna's Finger?"
Masamichi Yaga stopped midstep. His mind raced faster than it ever had before, and in the end, he made an exception and granted his prized student's request.
Tsukasa Hatayama looked at the antique little box in his hands, a deeply mischievous gleam in his eyes. Ryomen Sukuna would probably find toes delicious, wouldn't he?
Under the curious gazes of the other four, Tsukasa Hatayama gently slid open the lid, then ripped off the cursed seals wrapped around the finger.
A blackened, shriveled finger came into view. Thanks to Tengen's barrier around Jujutsu High, its aura would not draw any curses to them.
Tsukasa Hatayama's red eyes shifted, transforming into Mystic Eyes patterned with multicolored spirals. An aura of death washed over all four of the others.
Through his Mystic Eyes, he saw a thin red line appear on Sukuna's Finger. These lines were called death lines, and tracing them meant death.
The Mystic Eyes of Death Perception could kill even concepts. How could one tiny pickled pepper chicken foot possibly stand in their way?
Under the four onlookers' puzzled gazes, Tsukasa Hatayama traced the death line with his finger. Sukuna's Finger, which had defied every attempt to destroy it, instantly split in two.
Their pupils contracted in shock, no less stunned than if they had seen Luffy fighting Naruto. At that moment, the indestructible Sukuna's Finger crumbled into a pile of powder.
"Ryomen Sukuna, you're nothing special."
A mocking smile touched Tsukasa Hatayama's lips. He wanted to see how Ryomen Sukuna would recover that finger's worth of power in the future. Would he consider eating toes?
That indestructibility you rely on so confidently is as fragile as paper before me.
Destroying just one finger feels like letting him off too easily. If possible, I should destroy at least ten. That would really disgust Ryomen Sukuna.
I'd love to see how Ryomen Sukuna feels when he wakes up and realizes his finger is gone. Will he miserably make a replacement, or go mad trying to kill me?
The four who had witnessed the scene were all dumbfounded. When the Higher-Ups had ordered them to retrieve Sukuna's Fingers, they had explicitly stated that sealing them was the only option.
After a thousand years of curses, Sukuna's Fingers had long since become indestructible. The curses within them were still growing stronger by the day, leaving no solution other than sealing.
But now, it seemed Tsukasa could completely destroy this thousand-year-old curse.
Masamichi Yaga hurried away with an anxious expression, intending to report the good news to the Higher-Ups. Surely this would make Gakuganji treasure Tsukasa.
The remaining three once again looked at Tsukasa Hatayama as though he were a freak, stunned time and again by the miracles he worked.
Suguru Geto brought a little stool over and sat beside Tsukasa Hatayama, asking curiously, "Tsukasa, can your eyes really kill gods?"
Hearing that, Satoru Gojo insisted rather unconvincingly that the Six Eyes were the strongest. A second later, however, he brought over a little stool and sat on Tsukasa Hatayama's other side.
Shoko Ieiri hesitated briefly, then followed their lead, bringing a little stool over to sit in front of Tsukasa Hatayama's desk.
With one on his left, one on his right, and one in front, the three surrounded Tsukasa Hatayama completely, all desperate to know whether those eyes could kill gods.
Tsukasa Hatayama glanced to either side and said modestly, "I was just making things up. If I could kill gods, why would I still be here going to school with you?"
"What my eyes can do falls far short of Satoru's Six Eyes."
Satoru Gojo smugly tipped his chin at Suguru Geto and showed off. "Geto, did you hear that? Even Tsukasa admits his eyes aren't as strong as the Six Eyes."
"If his eyes really could kill gods, then my Six Eyes could kill their way through the whole world. I told you my Six Eyes were the strongest, but you wouldn't believe me."
Suguru Geto silently rolled his eyes, unwilling to argue with a child like Satoru. Instead, he concentrated on studying Tsukasa Hatayama's red eyes.
Tsukasa had always been modest with others, unlike Satoru, who flaunted his abilities so brazenly. Most of what Tsukasa said therefore downplayed his own strength.
His eyes probably really could kill gods. He was simply humbling himself to spare Satoru's pride in his presence, while praising the Six Eyes that appeared only once in a century.
To have someone as perfect as you as my best friend-what extraordinary luck.
Sitting across from him, Shoko Ieiri had drifted off into a daze with a cigarette between her lips, perhaps wondering what tasty food the cafeteria would serve that day.
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