[You sat at your own desk in the Jujutsu High office, holding a cup of black coffee that had already cooled somewhat. Your gaze traveled through the window to the tall, silver-haired man on the distant athletic field, who was wearing sunglasses and fooling around with Yu Haibara and Kento Nanami without a shred of a teacher's dignity.]
[Honestly, you had thought that in this simulated timeline, given Satoru Gojo's experiences and his state of mind, which had never been pushed to the brink, he would never willingly take the dull, responsibility-laden path of becoming a "Jujutsu High teacher."]
[Yet one decision of yours had made the gears of fate mesh in a peculiar way. Through a twist of circumstances, and thanks to that line of reasoning you had used to talk yourself into it-"come back stronger and settle the score"-he had actually stayed, creating an absurd yet reasonable reversal of your previous experiences.]
[Still, you took a small sip of bitter coffee and adjusted the glasses on your nose.]
[Watching the man outside grumble about the hassle while actually enjoying himself, you could hardly call this a bad thing.]
[As for Suguru Geto, who had chosen not to stay and teach, his situation was also far less troubling than you had expected.]
[Even after he left Jujutsu High's ivory tower and began taking missions as an independent jujutsu sorcerer, traveling from place to place, you still saw each other often.]
[Sometimes it was at the handover for an exorcism mission, sometimes at a café somewhere in Tokyo. Occasionally, he also returned to visit Jujutsu High.]
[After all, jujutsu society was a pitifully small circle, and everyone's main activities were concentrated in those few major cities.]
[Out of his school uniform, Suguru Geto had gained a touch of road-worn maturity,