After fooling around, Sherlock parted ways with Satoru Gojo, took a hot shower, and lay down on the bed in his dorm room.
He hadn't turned on the lights, leaving the entire room dark. Normally, given his lazy nature and immense love of sleep, Sherlock would probably have been snoring like thunder by now.
But tonight, Sherlock lay in bed unable to fall asleep, his mind filled with what Satoru Gojo had said to him on the silent path at Jujutsu High: "The only person to break through your teacher's Limitless using nothing but a Cursed Technique."
Was he excited?
A little, but he felt far more apprehensive.
Although Sherlock barely remembered the plot anymore and only recalled a few memes, he knew quite a lot about those Old Orange-Peels in the upper ranks. If they learned that he had a Cursed Technique capable of breaking through Limitless, they would never leave him alone.
And then there was Satoru Gojo.
He clearly knew that Sherlock's Cursed Technique could reach him as long as it left a "beacon," yet he had still voluntarily deactivated Limitless to spar with him during their hand-to-hand combat lessons, not caring in the slightest about the "beacon" Sherlock had placed on him.
Even now, if Sherlock wanted to, he could still clearly sense the location of the "beacon" in Satoru Gojo's room nearby.
Sherlock sighed helplessly. He simply couldn't understand what made Satoru Gojo trust him so much.
Was it just because he was Satoru Gojo's first-ever disciple?
Sherlock couldn't understand what this so-called strongest was thinking, but he could still be certain of one thing: a quiet future was no longer possible for him.
As long as he remained in Jujutsu Society, those Old Orange-Peels wouldn't leave him alone, whether he stood alongside Satoru Gojo or against him.
"Ugh... what kind of mess is this?"
Sherlock's helpless sigh drifted through the dark room.
Early the next morning, Sherlock broke with his lazy habits. Without even needing Satoru Gojo to haul him out of bed as usual, he went to the field of his own accord and started running.
Over the course of the night, Sherlock had come to understand one thing clearly: his future would never be peaceful. Even before his Cursed Technique's ability to break through Limitless was exposed, merely being Satoru Gojo's student was enough to make those Old Orange-Peels target him.
The reason Satoru Gojo was so eager to have Sherlock prioritize learning Reverse Cursed Technique was simply that he was worried those Old Orange-Peels would target him.
Compared with those Old Orange-Peels who kept everything hidden, Sherlock could still tell who truly cared about him.
It was just that the damn personality of the person who cared about him was really hard to describe...
Early that morning, Satoru Gojo went to haul Sherlock out of bed as usual, only to find him gone.
Standing in the hallway, he spotted Sherlock running laps around the field, and a smug smile curved his lips. Shoko happened to be heading back to her room to sleep after a night shift in the infirmary. Following Satoru Gojo's gaze toward Sherlock running on the field, she leaned against the window and lit a cigarette.
"Are you that worried the higher-ups will target that one lone student of yours?"
"I'm not worried. I'm absolutely certain."
Satoru Gojo's smile faded as he answered Shoko seriously, his eyes still fixed on Sherlock, whose stamina was gradually giving out on the field.
Hearing his reply, Shoko took a drag on her cigarette and grew even more languid. Her gaze also rested on Sherlock, who had begun panting heavily, as she quietly waited for Satoru Gojo to continue.
"I investigated the missions after the Star Plasma Vessel incident. The higher-ups deliberately assigned Geto and me different missions. They even deliberately tried to steer Geto into defecting. Our missions were screened."
There was a trace of heaviness and regret in Satoru Gojo's voice, as though he blamed himself for failing to notice his best friend's most desperate moment.
Shoko understood what Satoru Gojo meant. She turned to glance at him, then remained silent.
Masamichi Yaga had taught the most gifted class in Tokyo Jujutsu High's history, but it was also the class the higher-ups feared most.
Satoru Gojo and the Gojo Clan alone already put those Old Orange-Peels in the upper ranks under tremendous pressure. They couldn't accept a Cursed Spirit Manipulation with no upper limit standing alongside Satoru Gojo, who possessed the Six Eyes.
After Suguru Geto defected, the higher-ups had eased their suppression of Satoru Gojo somewhat, but they hadn't stopped. This year's student intake made that clear.
If Satoru Gojo hadn't discovered Sherlock, Tokyo Jujutsu High probably wouldn't have had a single student this year. And if their guess was correct, students discovered by the higher-ups wouldn't be entering Tokyo Jujutsu High in the future, either.
The two stood quietly in the hallway, watching Sherlock gradually run himself into a state where he was panting like an exhausted dog, yet still refused to stop. Only when Shoko's cigarette burned down did she stub it out against the window frame and casually flick the butt into the flower bed.
"Don't expect me to tell Geto about this."
Shoko spoke in a somewhat cold voice, then straightened and headed toward her room. A second before the door closed, her voice came from inside again.
"You and Geto had better never show your scumbag faces in front of me again."
After a slight pause, Shoko added one more thing before the door closed.
"That little guy running himself ragged on the field had better not, either."
As the door closed, Satoru Gojo gave a helpless laugh and turned to look at Shoko's now-closed door.
"What do you know? Shoko's still Shoko."
With that, Satoru Gojo walked toward the field with his hands behind his head, looking utterly flippant.
Satoru Gojo left the second half unsaid. Even if he knew the higher-ups had been behind all this, his best friend Suguru Geto probably still couldn't come back.
Fortunately, he still had hope. That little guy on the field was the beginning of his hope for the future.
Satoru Gojo no longer wanted to see what had happened between him and Geto happen again.
After leaving the dormitory building, Satoru Gojo stood at the entrance to the field. Seeing Sherlock, who had already exhausted himself and collapsed, his smile broadened a little, and he murmured something so quietly that only he could hear it.
"Hurry up and grow, little guy."
"Huh? What shit are you talking about me, you fucking cat?"
Sherlock hadn't heard what Satoru Gojo was muttering, but that didn't stop him from snapping back at the white-haired fucking cat.
"Huh? Xia-chan, how could you treat your most handsome and adorable Gojo-sensei, the greatest teacher, like this! You've hurt your teacher's feelings, so run another five laps, Xia-chan~"
"Is it too late to apologize now?"