Title: Nevertheless

Disclaimer: I do not own Jujutsu Kaisen.

AN: Well, after a long hiatus, I've finally returned lol. No but seriously, I'm sorry it took so long. The past month I've been dealing with a lot in my life, including recovering from Appendectomy, catching up with college work, and just overall the burdens of life. I didn't have the time to write and with the small downtime I did have, I didn't feel like writing due to stress. Thank you all for your patience, stay safe, and Happy New Year! :)

P.S. does anyone know if Mei Mei attended the Tokyo campus or the Kyoto one? Based on Gojo's past arc, I'm assuming she attended the Kyoto institution but I'm not sure. Also, I don't know when Shoko began learning the Reverse Technique but since it's known to be difficult, I assumed that she had an early start to master it. Again, nothing is for certain. ;-; Hopefully, everything roughly matches up according to the canon timeline.

Chapter 7

Two days have passed since the Osaka mission and my body was going through the 'aftershock' from the trauma I went through. I woke up the morning we flew back to Tokyo, feeling ungodly sore with dark purple and yellow blotches of bruises decorating my body. My muscles felt incredibly strained, like the muscle fibers were being ripped apart and I struggled a bit walking from the hotel to Sakaguchi's rented car.

There was only so much the school's doctor could do as unlike future Shoko, she didn't possess the Reverse Cursed Technique and thus couldn't heal others. After hearing from Gojo, Principal Yaga ordered me to take a day or two off until I completely recovered. So, I mainly stayed in my dorm, filling my days with sleep and visited by the trio. If seeing Suguru and Shoko every day wasn't enough, imagine having Gojo Satoru knocking at your door every spare moment he had. I'm sure most will argue that it was a cordial gesture from him to see if I was alright but I'm slowly starting to think otherwise.

One afternoon, he came into my room and asked what I thought was one of the most nonsensical things I heard.

"Don't ice cubes basically swim around in pools of their own blood? Like they die in their own blood."

I stopped midway from trying on his black-out glasses. "Wait what?"

He propped his chin on his palm while backward sitting on my rolling chair. "Ice cubes are frozen water."

"Obviously." I arched a brow.

"So if they're left out for some time, they'll melt back to water. Which means, they're floating around and dying in their blood."

"No, that's just changing its physical state from solid to liquid."

"But if you really think about it, it makes sense, doesn't it?"

"No, it doesn't." I said dryly, then proceeded to try on his black-out glasses. "Woah."

"Begone logic monster!" He booed.

I ignored his booing, too engrossed with his special glasses. I looked to my left, right, up, down, and wiggled my fingers in front of my face. You could really see nothing with these glasses; it was pitch black. It felt so wrong because the notion of putting on glasses and not being able to see is so bizarre. However bizarre it seemed to us, to Gojo, it was a necessity due to being the wielder of the Six Eyes

I turned towards the direction where I thought Gojo was and posed. "How do I look?"

"You know my answer to that." His voice was playful like always but there was also an underlying seriousness to it.

I let my arms drop.

Was that his usual teasing or a snarky reply? The fact he didn't outright call me ugly was rather alarming.

I slightly lowered his glasses to my nose bridge and in his brilliant blue eyes, there was duality. Behind his typical glint of unbothered-ness, flawlessly hid another emotion that was fathoms deep, yet carried softness within them. If I hadn't been trained by my own family's mastery in veiling their expressions, I would've never noticed. However, this wasn't the first time I had caught him staring at me with those eyes as it started ever since we returned from the Osaka mission.

At first, I didn't notice it at all. Correction: I didn't care enough to notice. But over time it became more frequent and part of me had the feeling it had to do with what I said to him the night we defeated Yūdokuna. Again, had I overstepped boundaries? When I confronted him about it, he flipped the accusation, shamelessly declaring he knew he was attractive and with pseudo-shyness, asked me to stop ogling him. Seriously, the audacity.

But based on that confrontation alone, it was clear that he wasn't ready to talk about it yet and that was fine. There was mutual trust and patience between us that I was willing to wait for him no matter how long.

To alleviate the awkwardness, I pushed his glasses back up and posed once more. "I asked how'd I look."

Instead of replying, he studied me for another minute. "You really okay?"

Oh. So that's what it was about.

Was I okay?

"Yea, my injuries weren't too bad; just bruises." I waved him off with the most reassuring smile I could muster up. "…I was careless."

I almost died. Calling it an injury was an understatement that I would happily take because if I didn't try to move on, I had to sit and think about what that meant. About how close I had come to losing everything again. About how close I had come to failing.

And it had happened because of my own mistake. A stupid mistake. A mistake that nearly cost my life.

The principal's warning when I first arrived at the institution rang quietly at the back of my mind. 'A sorcerer's life was bleak and short with death always at their doorsteps.' I'd thought I'd known the dangers lying ahead as a sorcerer and I thought I was prepared for it. But the truth is, I wasn't. I wasn't prepared for how fragile and easily life could end for a sorcerer. It could happen within a second and within a second, you ceased to exist. Without realizing, I was underestimating.

I had a wretched habit of minimizing anything that I deemed burdensome to the group of people I came to strongly rely on. And I considered most of that burden came from myself. If I'm being honest here, my self-esteem is not exactly healthy; it did improve a little from the months I attended Jujutsu High but it was still low. I guess that is the result of being emotionally abused for years.

He didn't buy it though and surprisingly, didn't push the matter either. It was kind of irritating; this smile worked wonderfully to conceal myself from others. Why won't it work on him?

"Don't be too hard on yourself."

What kind of emotion was etched onto his eyes this time? Was it the one carefully buried within? I was curious but for some reason, I didn't take off his glasses to see for myself. What was the point if I couldn't figure him out anyways?

"I know." I mumbled.

A knock at my door prompted me to return his glasses.

"Can we come in?" Suguru asked through the door.

Shoko's voice also rang from the outside. "We brought the pizza."

"It's opened." I called out.

"Why are you here so early?" Suguru placed the pizza at the small table and retrieved the extra stool I kept at the corner of my room.

"I had to ask her a very important question about ice cubes." Gojo shrugged.

"… right. Why did I even bother asking?"

I busied myself by opening the boxes of pizza, too focused on the food to comprehend what they were saying.

Shoko returned to my room with two bottles of sodas and a foldable chair she got from her dorm next door. "Suguru, you got the cups, right?"

"Yeah, I brought them."

It was those rare moments where none of us were occupied with a mission or training and so I thought we should cram inside my dorm, order some pizza, and relax. Though, around the second box of pizza the topic of Gojo's atrocious drawing skills were brought up. I'm not sure how the conversation led up to this point but now he was dead set on proving that we were wrong. Hey, we can't all be artists and that included Gojo.

The paper he was proudly holding up was marked by messy ink lines with some blotches and scribbles concentrating one area more than the others. It kind of resembled a face— maybe? I could make out two eyes, a nose, a severely crooked mouth, streaky lines taking up one portion of the face and a half circle sticking out from the supposed head.

"What the hell is that?" I tilted my head to the side, thinking that looking at it from a different angle might help with the identification.

Suguru squinted, leaning closer. "That doesn't look like any person or thing that has ever existed nor been dreamt of since the dawn of humanity."

"Come on," Gojo pouted. "My drawing can't be that bad. Look closely."

"We've been staring at it for twenty minutes now." Shoko said flatly. "It's not bad, it's horrendous."

I took another bite of my pizza before guessing for the third time. "Is it a cursed spirit?"

"That's offensive." Gojo held the drawing closer to our faces. "Fine. Here's a hint. It's a human."

"That can't be." Suguru scoffed. "Unless you're blind, that can't be a human."

Human, huh. Now that I look at it, I think the drawing was sporting a hair bun…? What else could that half circle on top of the head be?

My eyes widened. Bun. Man-bun. Suguru. That drawing had to be Suguru. Those streaky lines taking up the left side of the face were his bangs. If it's not, I don't know what else it could be.

"Is that… Suguru?" I apprehensively tried.

Suguru nearly choked on his soda, "hold up, that's not—"

"Yayyy! Correct!" Gojo exclaimed and brought the paper next to Suguru's face so that they could be compared side by side.

"You know what? I can see it." I nodded in approval.

Shoko agreed. "There's this uncanny resemblance to the drawing."

"It looks nothing like me. This is insulting."

"Actually, you should be honored that you've been drawn by me." Gojo handed Suguru the drawing. "Frame it."

"Like hell I would." Suguru replied, disregarding it.

Gojo pretended to wipe his tearless eyes. "You're so heartless."

I turned to Shoko who was one-shoting her cup of soda. "How's the Reverse Cursed Technique going?"

During the downtime I had at Osaka, Shoko briefly mentioned that she was learning a Cursed Energy Manipulation technique and the very little progress she made with it. I was curious and at the same time, a bit hopeful with the prospect that maybe I could learn it too. Despite sounding simple enough, however, producing reversed cursed energy is extremely difficult and complex. Very few sorcerers in Jujutsu history were able to achieve it and if perfected, one can have access to various new cursed techniques but it was commonly used for healing.

She twisted a lock of her hair with her fingers. "Yeah, it's still a working process. I'm not sure yet if I can pull it off but I've been working closely with Principal Yaga these days."

"I've been trying to learn it too but I don't get it and you're terrible at explaining." Gojo brooded. "I feel like it's harder to learn than Domain Expansion."

Well, I wasn't so sure about that last sentence. Both were incredibly difficult techniques to acquire with most high-level sorcerers never being able to master. Only a handful out of an already small percent were able to pull both off.

I wonder if Gojo started training for his Domain Expansion, Unlimited Void. Out of the four of us, he had the most cursed energy reserves which was a requirement for the barrier technique. Manifesting an innate domain with cursed energy requires a lot of power, and erecting a barrier requires even more so and with my current state I wasn't ready for it. Judging by the series, it seems like he hasn't learned it yet at this age or at sixteen since he never used it against his fight with Toji.

But it wouldn't hurt to have a head start, right?

"How can you be so sure?" I suggested, "maybe you should try learning Domain Expansion first since you have the most cursed energy reserves out of all of us."

"Nah, I'm trying to learn Reverse Technique before that but my 'teacher' is not doing her job properly." Gojo drawled.

First attempt failed.

"I just don't know how to explain that well. Either you understand it or you don't and if I'm being honest, I still don't completely understand it myself." Shoko sighed exasperatedly, attempting to explain to us again. "We all know curse energy is generally negative and destructive in nature. Essentially, it's the multiplication of two cursed energies by each other and reverses it to get positive energy. Get it? It's negative times a negative which equals positive."

I understood the mechanics of how it worked as I remember reading about it during my younger years in the clan's main library. What I couldn't comprehend was how you applied that to your cursed energy. I spent many days trying to figure it out, knowing how valuable this will be to not only myself but for the people around me as well. I didn't worry too much, thinking Shoko could somehow teach me later on. Now that we mentioned it, that seems very unlikely.

"I mean yeah, that's simple math." I said. "What we're trying to understand is how that is applied through our own cursed energy. How do you multiply your cursed energy by itself to produce that positive energy?"

She lazily shrugged, "I really don't know what else to say for you guys to understand. Just multiply your cursed energy to itself."

"See? I told you she's so bad at explaining." Gojo spun around on my rolling chair.

Suguru let his hair down, carding a hand through it. "That's why I don't go to her for explanations."

One thing I've always wanted to ask Suguru in my previous and current life is how cursed spirits taste. Possessing the Curse Spirit Manipulation, he has to ingest spirits in order to control them. It's a stupid question but I was curious. I've seen him complete the process multiple times during missions and also wondered how he was able to so easily swallow it, similar to how Yuji could swallow Sukuna's fingers. I felt my stomach churn at the thought.

"Hey Suguru, what do cursed spirits taste like? Do they taste like— I don't know, chicken?" I queried.

Gojo scooted the chair closer, eagerness taking over him. "Ohhh, now that's a very compelling question; better than my ice cube one."

Suguru blankly stared at us, clearly confused. "No, they don't taste like chicken. Why would you assume they have a pleasant taste?"

"So what does it taste like?" I repeated. "That black orb is huge. How do you even eat it?"

"Because if I don't learn how to deal with it, I can't use the technique." He shuddered, placing a hand over his neck. "And I wish it tasted like chicken; it actually tastes like a used rag that wiped up vomit. It's disgusting."

How does he know what vomit rags taste like? That's oddly specific.

Shoko stuck out her tongue, "glad I don't have that technique."

"You wouldn't believe how much I struggled trying to describe the taste in my first mission report." He drawled. "They demand such unnecessary details for what?"

I jolted. Mission report. I forgot to write the report for the Osaka mission. Fuck.

"You just reminded me that I have to write a mission report." I groaned.

"They aren't that bad… tedious but not difficult." Suguru assured.

I sighed, glancing over at my teammate for that mission. "Did you start?"

"Who do you think I am?" Gojo casually leaned back against the chair. "Let me give you a piece of advice; it's okay to procrastinate from time to time. Being too responsible can be so— bothersome. You have to find that perfect balance of being responsible and irresponsible."

I frowned a little. "What?"

He tsked, "It's clear you haven't mastered the art of procrastination. Besides, isn't it annoying to write them?"

"Of course, but it's a requirement." I pointedly said.

"There. That responsibility is too much for me to handle."

"I can tell. You have like three reports you still have to submit." Shoko countered.

Gojo scowled, "there's no official deadline."

"Careful. Keep making that expression and your face will freeze that way." I teasingly commented.

I hate writing reports. They were so demoralizing. Include every detail, everyone affected, be objective, and try not to sound too condescending while also owning every mistake you made, and in conclusion, how the problem was solved. Not to mention, I hated writing in general.

As a requirement by Jujutsu High, every sorcerer must write up a report after completing a mission and must submit it to the headmaster. The thing was, all mission reports are archived and those microscopic details may play a vital role in other missions. For example, what if there was a cursed spirit that retained similar patterns to one from a previous mission. Utilizing the archived mission report, we can predict its movements and adjust our actions accordingly. The reports are also shared with the Kyoto school and all the other Jujustu schools in the world, creating an international database for sorcerers.

Usually, I suck up my complaints and quickly get it over with but damn, this report didn't want to be written. I wonder how Gojo writes his reports.

'… encountered one cursed spirit, special grade; identified as Yūdokuna. Yūdokuna: Form: humanoid, skin tone: shade one hundred and two, facial structure: type six, eye shape: type seven, eye color: pitch black, including the sclera of the eyes, hair: red. Outfit consisted of: loose scarlet red clothing, thick red threads bandaged around arms, legs, and neck. Jujutsu: cursed energy imbued nails: targets perish into dust if in contact. Body modification. Red Threads of Fate…'

My right hand lingered at my chest and lightly shuddered at the memory of the intense pain I endured. Despite the pain, the technique was an interesting concept, strongly reminding me of Nobara's Straw Doll Technique and Resonance. Both applied their cursed energies to their targets by establishing an effigy, but using different objects: Nobara with her Straw Doll and Yūdokuna with her red threads. However, unlike Nobara who (probably) needed a severed body part to unleash her technique, all the cursed spirit needed was any type of bodily fluid. And that made it more dangerous as in a battle it's almost guaranteed that blood and sweat will spill.

Thinking about Yūdokuna, my mind drifted to the thought of Mahito and Jogo. Where were they now? Of course, since Suguru is still with us, their little group hasn't formed yet but the possibility that they were wreaking havoc somewhere in Japan was very real. Having them dealt with early on was not a bad idea as it would majorly solve the unnecessary tragic events in the future. Reminding myself to look into them later, I forced myself to finish the report.

'Red Threads of Fate; Applies destructive cursed energy into one's body by…'

Once I completed it, I swung by Principal Yaga's office and found him producing another one of his cute cursed corpses.

"Are you alright?" The principal put away his creation for now.

"Yes. After a few visits to the school's clinic and resting, I've recovered." I handed him my mission report.

"That's good to hear." He took it from me. "Nice and early. Unlike a certain classmate of yours, I'm glad you didn't pick up that habit. We probably won't see his mission report for another two weeks."

I nearly laughed. There was nothing the principal hated more than tardiness and that extended to mission reports. There wasn't really a strict deadline with when the reports should be delivered as there was the chance of hospitalization and back to back missions being assigned. So, there was this unspoken rule that it should be turned in as soon as possible.

Judging by Gojo's response from yesterday, he seemed to have an abundant amount of time to finish this mission report but chose not to. How can one guy be so powerful, childish, and irresponsibly responsible all at the same time?

"So, it was a special grade." He skimmed my report. "Red Threads of Fate. Its cursed technique is rather intriguing. Based on your report, it explains the fast casualty rate and the wounds inflicted on you."

"It was my fault." I admitted. Though there was no way for me to know it had such a technique, I still let my guard down. I was still— weak. I felt my eyebrows scrunch in frustration. "I should've been more vigilant and cautious of my surroundings. I was aware of the bandaged threads wrapped around her body before the battle started and found it suspicious but became distracted."

The principal leaned back against his chair and folded his arms. "You are still a student who is learning. Learning is not attained by chance nor done so without mistakes. It is sought by diligence and perseverance. You learn from those mistakes. You grow from those mistakes."

I took a deep breath and nodded, feeling the burn of disappointment subsiding a little. Right. Everybody makes mistakes.

But not ones that get themselves killed. A small voice at the back of my mind mocked.

"Both of you have done well for exorcizing the spirit before it brought any more casualties." The principal picked up his half-stuffed cursed doll. "If there is nothing more to say, you may be dismissed."

I was about to leave when I realized this was an opportunity to possibly warn about Mahito and Jogo. The future was unknown at this point due to my existence and of course I will be doing everything in my power to stop Suguru from leaving. However, there was the sliver of a chance that it could all go awry and I had to prepare for every pernicious obstacle that will be thrown my way during the process. Though, the real question was, how could I subtly warn without sounding insane and brand myself as suspicious at the same time?

"Actually sir, there was something I became aware of during the mission."

"That is?"

"The cursed spirit, Yūdokuna, was far above what a special grade spirit would normally be." I spoke as evenly as possible. "Not only has it displayed high intelligence, but its capability for complex emotions and cognitive thoughts rendered it to behave similarly to humans. I am well aware that there were past cases of spirits behaving in the same way however, this spirit had a set goal; the eradication of humanity. It didn't mindlessly kill but had predetermined motivations to its actions. And I fear similar cursed spirits will emerge, forming alliances amongst themselves and bring unfathomable destruction to not only the civilian population but disrupt Jujutsu society as well."

There was a beat of silence as the principal took a moment to comprehend my words. "I see. Alliances among the deviant special grades is a very real possibility that I have not truly thought about. I'll keep your words in mind. Thank you for bringing my attention into this."

It wasn't enough. I know it wasn't enough to definitively secure a change but for now, this was all I could do.

"No, thank you for hearing me out. That is all of my concerns." I bowed and turned to leave when this time, he stopped me.

"Oh, and Natsue?"

"Yes?"

"Please remind Gojo to turn in his mission reports." There was an edge of irritation in his voice.

"I'll try sir."

For the next few days, I fell back into the routine of going to the training grounds and taking local missions around Tokyo.

Today was no different with the hot wind whispering the final days of summer. In Japan, the hottest months were marked from June to August and today was the start of the final week before fall begins to slowly creep its way in.

I stood in the middle of a training field in deep concentration, surrounded by horribly skewered wooden dummies and splintered target boards. Jaggedly chipped wood pieces scattered the area, moving along with the summer breeze. I was experimenting with my Blood Manipulation.

After processing the battle in Osaka and other small missions, I came to the conclusion that my techniques were becoming too repetitive which could lead to predictability and in a battle, unpredictability is a treasured asset. So here I am, about two steps away from inventing two new Blood Manipulation techniques.

I had one blood bag left until I hit the limit on the amount I could use for today's training session and it will be used to practice the attack I'm struggling the most with.

The first attack I invented was called Blood Needle. I know, I know it's not the most creative name nor the coolest sounding but hey, naming things was clearly not my specialty. For this attack, I start off by compressing my blood into miniscule orbs but instead of completely hardening them, it'll still be slightly malleable to my cursed energy. When launched, they'll lodge themselves into the target's body and with a flick of my cursed energy, each of those orbs will violently erupt into an explosive force of needles, turning the target into a bloody pin cushion. Out of the two new techniques, this one took me the longest to perform. This was due to the precise level of cursed energy required to make blood be at the intermediate stage where it's hardened but moldable at the same time.

And I haven't mastered that yet. There were more attempts where I infused too much cursed energy, thereby hardening it and essentially turning the attack into Blood Meteorite. On the other hand, if too little is infused, the blood will be liquidy and unable to embed itself into the target's body.

Widening my stance, I propelled the last blood bag into the air. Within seconds of it erupting, I conscientiously directed my cursed energy in my blood to form the tiny orbs. Not too much. Not too much. I repeated this to myself like a broken record.

Once I deemed the blood was at that intermediate stage, I bombarded the wooden dummy fifteen yards away from me. I heard the rapid fire of many blood orbs hitting the target. Some narrowly sailed past the edges of the dummy, embedding into the dirt.

I pulsed my cursed energy and within a millisecond, two monstrous needles burst out of the wooden figure with a high-pitched whipping noise. Okay, two out of however many there were reached the needle stage while the others weren't hardened enough. It wasn't bad compared to the previous few attempts which had only one make it but my inner greed nagged for perfection.

The other technique I was experimenting on didn't have a name yet due to my pathetic level of creativity and unlike Blood Needle, there wasn't much to explain. It was basically a shield. By controlling the cursed energy in the blood, I mold it into a blood like barrier to create a shield around myself. Based on how dangerous the foreign object that is about to target me, I can adjust the level of the hardening thus increasing the durability it can endure.

There were countless missions where I would sustain preventable injuries due to the lack of strategic defenses and heavily relied on the speed of Flowing Red Scale to dodge attacks. I grew annoyed at the lack of defensive techniques Blood Manipulation had and thought of solving that problem by inventing one myself. Although, I doubt I was the only Blood Manipulation user in Jujutsu history who came up with a defensive technique.

I scanned my surroundings, knowing that this was going to be one hell of a cleanup job. I swallowed the complaints that were forcing itself up to my lips and started picking up the bigger wood pieces. I could convince Shoko and Suguru to help me but knowing Gojo, I'll probably clean at a faster rate than if he were to help.

I picked up what I thought was the last decent sized chunk of wood when I heard footsteps and turned to see Suguru making his way down the stone stairs.

"Unless you came to help me, I'm assuming you're here for a different reason?" I said casually.

"Principal Yaga wants all of us at his office around four." Suguru began. "Something about an important announcement he has to make."

"About what?"

He shrugged. "I would've told you already if I knew." He then examined the training field. "You really went all out today. This'll take you a while to clean up by yourself."

"Not unless you help me." I clasped my hands together and gave him the best puppy eyes I can manage. "Please?"

His eyes narrowed mischievously. "I don't know. Should I?"

"Yes, I think you should."

"But what's in it for me?"

One of my brows tried to rise. It wasn't like him to add a price for his aid. I suspected being around Gojo for so long was rubbing off on him but also knew he would never let that happen.

"I can always ask Shoko to help." I said defiantly.

"She's busy these days, learning the reverse technique." He countered. "You can always clean by yourself."

"What do you want?" I hissed.

This was Suguru. Unlike Gojo, he wouldn't ask for much. Hopefully.

"There's a Zaru soba place that recently opened in Roppongi. Go with me Saturday evening and you just earned a cleaning partner."

I squinted my eyes in doubt. "That's it?"

"Yup."

I took another glance at the mess that surrounded us. Honestly, the bargain wasn't bad compared to the amount he had to do and I recently got paid for the latest mission.

"Fine."

I swear his face brightened to a degree that I never thought was possible.

"What do I do?" He smiled, eyes curving happily.

"Can you get the broom and dustpan from the storage unit and start sweeping the small pieces up?"

"Yes ma'am!"

It was close to four in the afternoon when we finished cleaning and after meeting up with the rest at the training grounds, we all ambled into Principal Yaga's office.

"We haven't had a group mission in a while." Gojo yawned, stretching. "Is there even a point in all of us going now? I think one or at least two of us are enough."

"It's not a mission." The principal said frankly.

We exchanged looks, half dread, half anticipation, and half excitement. I couldn't think of any other reason for our gathering except for a group training secession but we had one recently.

"The reason I gathered you all here today was to announce the seventeenth annual Kyoto-Sister School Goodwill Event."

Suffice to say, my initial reaction was more of apprehension instead of the bewilderment that my classmates displayed. Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi, although first years participated in the event and I was faintly aware of the possibility that we could be doing the same. Faintly aware as in a very small chance. I guess not.

By doing some simple math, I can already make out who our possible opponents were. Definitely Utahime, maybe Mei Mei? Wait, did Mei Mei even attend the Kyoto institution?

The principal went on to explain the event in detail, including the rules and what we should expect during those two days.

"Don't only the second and third years participate in the event?" Suguru turns imperceptibly, just a little to Masamichi in confusion.

"Normally, yes. However, with permission, first years are permitted as well and I grant all four of you the permission to participate." He continued. "Since we had lost last year, the event will be held at the Kyoto campus and will take place a week from now."

I felt a spike of anxiety jolt through my body. At this moment, a thousand thoughts jumbled through my mind.

I knew it. I knew my family had a specific reason for their reticence. Will they seize this opportunity to try to take me back? Surely not with the principal's presence but their influence with the higher-ups was immeasurable compared to Masamichi's. It was their silence that let the higher-ups evaluate my rank that day with no objections. And I'm certain Yoshinobu Gakuganji won't just sit by and watch during the event. News of my arrival reached the Kyoto headmaster eons ago and the possibility of him disclosing the event to my family was haunting me.

Calm down. I told myself sternly. Don't get yourself worked up. Don't get ahead of yourself. Think it through. I was no longer afraid of my father and the elders. I was no longer trapped in that toxic environment. Truthfully, I was still underprepared to face my clan as it had been only a few months since I left. But I had to try. I no longer wanted to run.

"… I advise that you prepare yourselves well for the event and I expect all of you to show your full potentials." He concluded.

We walked out of his office, stopping at a nearby bench to process the information bombarded into us.

"We'll make sure next year's event will take place here." There was a note of high handed arrogance in Gojo's voice.

"Spar?" Suguru suggested.

Gojo smiled knowingly. "You're on."

"Can't." Shoko rubbed her face tiredly. "I need to work on the Reverse Technique. Probably need to work twice as hard for next week."

"Natsu?" Gojo searched me for confirmation.

"Make sure you guys don't destroy the nearby buildings like last time." I replied as we headed towards the training grounds.