chapter 2: teacher, previously housewife

The Gojou family was not terribly keen on sending their prized heir to Tokyo's Jujutsu High School. In the words of Satoru's mother, it is a "ramshackle, barbaric school where they throw kids from great clans and street rats together," a perfectly undignified place for the bearer of the Limitless and Six Eyes to be educated. Yet, rules are rules, and despite curses being unknown entities to the majority of the Japanese population, one needs a license to legally exorcise curses, and a license requires a diploma from a Jujutsu Technical School. While members of the Great Families are offered special privileges and do not require a diploma to acquire a license, Satoru outgrows the tutors within the Gojou family by the time he is ten years old, and being the spoiled brat he is, demands he gets to go to the School and experience High School Life.

He was not joking when he declared the school amazing within the first half-hour of his arrival. Kids from the three Great Clans are all miserable and stiff, clamoring over one another to grasp closer to the front in the line of ascension. It is a dull predicament simply because Satoru has never felt the same stress, born into this unchallenged position, knowing nothing but the fact that the throne will be his to take when he is ready. The other kids, consequently, limit their interactions with him, knowing he will reign over them regardless of the outcomes of their internal strife.

It makes everything tremendously boring.

Which is why Jujutsu High, with Shouko's natural gift for using positive cursed energy and Suguru's supposedly unlimited repository of curses, gives Satoru just the slightest semblance of fun. Though his senpai are mildly less spectacular, and his teacher is positively lost amidst the sparkles, Satoru is delighted with the school and is ready to go on missions and employ the grand ideas of teamwork he's studied in the most recent volumes of Shounen Jump.

"First-years can only go on missions after four weeks of orientation," says Morimoto-sensei when he asks when they're going to get their first assignment. Satoru calls Morimoto-sensei 'Yuna' in his head because there's no way she's that much older than him and extra no way that she knows more.

The sun begins its descent outside, bathing the classroom in an orange glow. Yuna erases what's left on the chalkboard—today's lesson, by Suguru's request, was an overview of the different Grades of curses and common ones that the school has on retainer. Satoru is somewhat surprised to find out that the school has over a hundred curses sealed away, from Grade Four to One, and that with the right training, curses can be manipulated and controlled.

"That's a dumb rule," Satoru frowns. "Why?"

Yuna has the annoying habit of never replying a question immediately, as if she turns the answer over in her head several times before she says it aloud.

"In my first-year, a boy got killed on a solo mission two weeks after classes started," she finally replies. "It was a poor match-up and he was completely torn apart." She sets the eraser down and turns around to look at Satoru. "His parents were fairly upset and asked that changes be made in his honor. So now, first-years have a four-week orientation period."

"That's dumb," repeats Satoru. He does not need to verbalize that he will learn nothing in the four weeks that will prevent him from dying, if that were ever a risk to him.

Yuna blinks slowly. "I understand your feelings regarding the situation, Gojou-kun. However, it was hard for Yaga-sensei to not promise the parents any changes when the only thing left of their son was an eyeball."

Shouko snorts a little bit even though nothing about what Yuna said was funny. Satoru gets it though. There's something humorous about the way Yuna delivers her words, deadpan and inflectionless; Shouko is laughing at the terrible storyteller, not the terrible story.

"It's fine," Suguru says, stretching his arms out over his desk. Like a good student, he had taken notes during Yuna's lecture, even though all the material had been horrendously elementary. "It's only two more weeks. I'm enjoying the free afternoons and solo lessons in the meantime."

Satoru starts. "Solo lessons?"

Suguru eyes him, like he can't tell if Satoru is joking or not (he's not). "Yes. Remember when Morimoto-sensei asked us to fill out the form about what we wanted to learn, to help tailor our Curse Technique development?"

"Oh, right. What'd you and Shouko write?"

"Anatomy," yawns Shouko. Her open notebook is full of sketched body parts.

"Seals and spellwork," replies Suguru.

Satoru looks at Yuna accusatorially. Her face remains expressionless.

"I apologize, Gojou-kun. I didn't mean to neglect you," she explains. "Intro anatomy was easy enough for me to pick up, and seals are…somewhat of a specialty. I've been taking the time to learn some quantum mechanics but it's been slow. I apologize that you've had to wait. I hope to start teaching you individually soon."

Satoru thinks she's earnest, which is why he doesn't correct her. He also doesn't feel bad that he'd only written down "quantum mechanics" because he's a little shit.

"It's…fine."

Yuna collects her things from under her podium—her scrolls are always stacked in a pyramid, the smallest and shortest on top. Despite that she brings them to every class, Satoru has never actually seen the contents of the scrolls and half-believes they're just for show.

"You all should enjoy the weekend," Yuna says. "It should be beautiful. I'll ask Yaga-sensei to give you some stipend money so you can have fun in the city. I'll see you all back in class on Tuesday."

Suguru arches an eyebrow. "We have Monday off?"

Yuna nods. "Yes. I apologize. I have some business to take care of on Monday and Yaga-sensei will be working with the third years."

Satoru sits up. "Are you going on a mission?"

Yuna studies him for a bit, still with that infuriating pause before her response. "Yes."

"Can we come?" Satoru asks brightly, as if he hadn't heard a thing about the orientation rules.

Yuna's response is the quickest he's ever heard from her. "No."

"It doesn't even have to be as a mission!" Satoru counters. "We can just come along! We won't do anything! Just watch!"

"It'll be a very boring mission, Gojou-kun. Please be patient. Many exciting things will come your way." She tucks her scrolls under her arm and heads for the exit. "Have a good weekend, you three."

The door slides closed behind her, and Satoru lets out a groan as he presses his forehead to the desk.

"Why the fuck not," he whines to a doodle of a stick figure holding its decapitated head.

"She explained already," sighs Suguru.

"Also because you're a major dick," adds Shouko.

Satoru peers at Shouko. "What?"

She doesn't even deign to look at him, resuming her own drawing. "Quantum mechanics? You ass."

"It was a joke! How was I supposed to know she was actually going to try teaching us random topics?"

"Of course she was going to try," says Suguru plainly. "She knows that you know about the basics of cursed energy and Techniques already. She was being thoughtful."

Satoru squints at him. "Is that why you wrote her specialty?"

Suguru hums but does not answer.

"You suck up."

"And you're insufferable," Suguru returns lightly.

Satoru turns to Shouko. "Are you seriously learning anything from her?"

Shouko shrugs. "Yeah, kinda. It's not anything I couldn't learn on my own, it's more like having a study buddy. But I like that we get to go to the morgue."

"She's honestly a good spellcaster," Suguru says, even though Satoru wasn't talking to him. "Even if it's not really in my wheelhouse, it's fundamental stuff that can be useful."

"No one asked you, you teacher's pet."

"You actually did ask me, you fuck wad."

Satoru wishes the teachers could be around to watch the three of them interact. Suguru is just as much a piece of shit as Satoru and can out-curse him three-fold (Satoru learned this the first week when, in an attempt to skimp out on doing laundry, he threw a pair of red boxers in with Suguru's load and stained all of Suguru's white dress shirts pink).

"Honestly, it's unbelievable," mutters Satoru into his palm. "Utahime said Morimoto-sensei was promoted to Grade Two only recently."

"And?"

"What d'you think my family would say if they heard a Grade Two sorcerer was teaching me?"

"That you're lucky to have anyone teach a brat like you."

"Seriously, Suguru," sighs Satoru. "She's not here, you don't have to pretend. You're bored, too."

"Grade isn't everything," says Suguru instead of being truthful and agreeing with him. "Shouko is Grade Four and can do things neither of us can even comprehend."

"Though to be honest," Shouko says, "it's just because you're dumb."

"I'm not dumb, Shouko, you're just a terrible teacher."

"Then just be glad I'm not a teacher. You'll be less bored once you start missions. In the meantime, just shut up and try to be less of an ass. You can ask Morimoto-sensei for private lessons for that."

Yuna spends Friday evening in Yaga's office, where she surprisingly now feels comfortable. Yaga's desk is always a catastrophe and she reins in the temptation to organize it for him. The stern wooden seat she's in forces her back to be straight. On the right side of the room hang several scrolls, some with basic jujutsu spells written by famous sorcerers, others with ink paintings of rural scenery. One of them reminds her of her childhood village, and though she would not describe the memories of her childhood as fond, the agrarian depiction soothes her. She has never truly been at peace with the constant noise of Tokyo, its oppressive activity and the overwhelming emotions that spring from its occupants.

Yuna doubts any other teacher has had weekly updates with the principal, but she imagines there is great interest in the historic first-year class that she has the misfortune of teaching. She tries to convince herself that this interest would exist regardless of the teacher, and that her own failures as a Jujutsu sorcerer do not factor in the frequent check-ins. Yaga, thankfully, is not terribly fixated on the Special Grades as phenomena. He asks routine questions: how are the students settling in, any mishaps, are they enjoying their dormitories? He'd heard Mei had knocked out Gojou in a weapons-only match, it bodes well for Mei's impending promotion to Grade One.

"Yes," Yuna agrees. "Though Gojou-kun gave her a run for her money, quite literally. His physical capability, irrespective of cursed energy, is remarkable for a first-year."

"Yeah, that's nothing to be surprised about," grunts Yaga. "Kid's been trained by the top martial artists in the country since he could walk. It means more for Mei, honestly."

Yuna nods. "Yes, she's very impressive."

Yaga points at her with his coffee mug. "And you?"

"I'm fine, Yaga-sensei, thank you for asking. I simply wish I had more to offer the students."

"I keep telling you, it's a special class and you don't need to teach them the same way you were taught."

"I know. I just don't want to be useless."

"You're not. In fact, one of your uses…" He sets down his mug and reaches into his desk drawer. He pulls out a manila folder and slides it over the desk to her. "You free this weekend?"

"Yes, I already told the students I'd be absent Monday." She flips open the file. "As I've mentioned before, though, Yaga-sensei, I wish for more of a heads-up in the future. I prefer verifying the intel myself."

"Yeah, I know, but I figured since this was just a maintenance check, it wouldn't be a big deal. Grade Threes expected, that's it."

The file confirms what Yaga is saying. It is a mission request from a village outside Takayama, about five hours' drive away; they house a weak cursed object at the village cemetery, and they would like help resealing the object, as the number of low-grade curses hovering near the graveyard has recently increased.

"The request came from the village head?" Yuna asks. "Has he requested missions from us before?"

"Yeah, every five years or so, they've had a sorcerer go and re-seal it. Pretty routine."

"Okay. I can head there Sunday. You don't want me to retrieve the object?"

"No, it's holy to the village."

Yuna states the obvious. "The item, by definition, is cursed."

"I don't fight lunatics," says Yaga breezily. "Not when they pay us."

Yuna does not voice aloud that such a practice is the reason why the school operates under the thumb of the Three Great Families, oftentimes for the worse.

"Speaking of payment…" Yaga's voice trails off at the end. He then clears his throat. "I heard you've been giving the first-years solo lessons."

"Ah. Yes, to poor effect, I think. I asked them if there was a field of study that could help them hone their Cursed Techniques, since all of them have long manifested their Techniques."

"Yeah, yeah," Yaga waves aside her reasoning. "I heard you haven't been teaching the Gojou kid."

Yuna pauses. She did not think Gojou would be one to tattle. Whine, yes, but not inconsiderately tattle. "Did he tell you that?"

"No. His family did. They're not happy about it."

Yuna rarely frowns. Her facial muscles are entrenched in lessons from her childhood, that expressions breed wrinkles, which she cannot afford. She frowns mentally instead.

"What do you mean?"

"They think you're neglecting him and giving special treatment to the others."

Yuna understands. "They worry I prefer the other Special Grade."

This is true, but Yuna knows better than to admit it aloud. Besides, she truly is trying to teach Gojou, if only he had asked for a more reasonable field of study for her to teach.

"Looks that way."

"Gojou-kun asked for quantum mechanics. I would like to give him individual lessons as well, it's just…taken me some time to familiarize myself with the material."

Yaga's mustache twitches. "You're seriously going to try and teach him quantum mechanics?"

Yuna feels stupid but matches Yaga's stare evenly. "I am trying to be impartial, Yaga-sensei."

"What a brat," Yaga chuckles. "Look, this is an easily fixable solution. The Gojou family wants you to start taking him on missions and teaching him one-on-one. Take him on your mission this weekend and teach him then."

"They still have two weeks of their orientation left."

"It's a lesson, Morimoto, not a mission. He's just there to watch you."

Yuna purses her lips. "This is favoritism because he's from a powerful family."

"No shit, Morimoto, that's how the Three Families have operated for centuries."

"I don't want to take him," she says petulantly. "It's against the rules."

"Forget the goddamn rules, just take him. It's a boring mission but it'll shut the family up."

"The rule was placed for a reason—"

"Just do it, Morimoto." Yaga's tone leaves no room for argument.

Yuna bites her lip. "If I have to take Gojou-kun, I'm going to offer to take the others, too."

"Then it's not a solo lesson."

"I can teach him quantum mechanics if he wants an individual lesson so badly," she says coolly.

Yaga scratches his beard in frustration. "What's going on? Usually it's Tsukumo that gives me problems, not you."

"I merely don't like favoritism."

"It's not that." Yaga leans toward her, trying to decipher her expression, but Yuna remains blank. "You scared of Special Grades or something?"

Her answer is characteristically measured. "No. I spent the last four years with a Special Grade classmate."

"Then it's the Gojou kid specifically?"

Yuna does not respond. She has no explanation for how she feels about Gojou-kun. She feels ridiculous, especially seeing how Utahime brazenly challenges him daily, how easy Getou and Ieiri are around him. They treat him so normally, even though they've known about the jujutsu world much longer than Yuna has and therefore know the legend Gojou has represented since his birth. Yet, Yuna can't shake the feeling that she had the first time she made real eye contact with him and saw the shifting galaxy behind his glasses.

She knows, without a doubt, that if she lets Gojou close, there will be nothing of her left.

Yuna does not lie. She simply does not answer the question and stands up to leave.

"Thank you for your time, as always, Yaga-sensei. I will offer the opportunity to the three of them. If they accept, I ask permission to drive them outside of the city. I'll have the paperwork to you by tomorrow evening."

"You don't need to be so formal, Morimoto. You're just giving me work I'll never read." He resentfully eyes the stacks of paperwork already on his desk that have only grown higher in the last week. She does not offer any sympathy, and instead bows deeply and leaves.

To no one's surprise, the first years excitedly accept the opportunity to join Yuna on her mission. (It is more Gojou and Getou who are excited; Ieiri accepts only because her parents told her she has to spend more time with living people than dead or else they'll reduce her monthly allowance). Early Sunday morning, Yuna picks up the rental car and swings by her favorite bakery to pick up breakfast: an assortment of baked goods and breads and four iced coffees of varying amounts of cream and sugar.

The students wait for her at the school's entrance. Getou is awake and serene, Gojou yawns obviously and adjusts his sunglasses even though the sun has only just risen, and Ieiri stands several feet away from them, headphones on, listening to her iPod with her eyes closed. Yuna pulls up and waits for them to settle in the four-door sedan. To her relief, Getou sits in the front with her, while Gojou sprawls behind her and Ieiri behind Gojou.

"Good morning," she greet, adjusting the pastry bag and coffees to the dashboard so Getou can sit comfortably.

"Good morning, sensei," Getou smiles.

Gojou's face appears between them. "Do I smell coffee?"

"Gojou-kun, please sit back and put on your seatbelt," Yuna instructs, as if seatbelts are a life-saving measure for Gojou Satoru. She takes the coffees in hand. "This one's yours: half-and-half with four pumps of syrup?"

"Yes," crows Gojou. "What are the pastries?"

"There's a red-bean bun, taro pastry, chocolate almond croissant—"

"Ooh, can I have that one?" says Gojou brightly.

Yuna hesitates for half a second because the croissant is her favorite. "Certainly, Gojou-kun."

Gojou abruptly lets out a soft "Ow!" Yuna turns back, alarmed. Ieiri is staring at them both, face blank but eyes radiating dark intensity, having just slammed her wallet into the side of Gojou's head, knocking his glasses askew.

"The fuck, Shouko!"

"I want that one," she states.

"But—"

"Maybe we should ask Morimoto-sensei what she'd like first?" interjects Getou.

"It's all right, thank you, Getou-kun. I think I bought two croissants." She rummages through the bag and hands the individually wrapped pastries over. "And here's your coffee, Ieiri-san."

"Thanks, sensei." She takes her black coffee and shoots Gojou a look. "You're never gonna get a girlfriend being so selfish, y'know."

Gojou peers at her through a large bite of croissant. "Who says I want a girlfriend?"

"Maybe not now, but in the future—"

"No," interrupts Gojou, spewing buttery flakes. As he looks up, his glasses slide down his nose, and his eyes are too bright for so early in the morning. "I mean, who says I want a girlfriend?"

Ieiri's placid countenance actually shifts in surprise. Beside her, Getou has gone still. Yuna is stunned, but she is more practiced than Ieiri in limited emotional range and does not let it show.

"Really?" Ieiri says, showing the first bit of genuine interest in Gojou that Yuna has seen her express since knowing him. "You're…into guys?"

"Well, I dunno, maybe." Gojou slurps his coffee happily. "Seems a lil less effort than a girlfriend. Feel like guys would wanna do the things I wanna do. Would be more fun."

Ieiri studies him, as if she's trying to tell if Gojou is kidding or not. "Does your family know about this?"

"Know about what?" says Gojou blankly.

Ieiri gesticulates in a way that embodies the word, "Duh."

"Oh. Know if I'm attracted to guys? Nah, we don't talk about stuff like that. Don't see why it would matter."

"I mean…" Ieiri says slowly, like she's explaining how to fly to a dumb baby bird, "I would imagine it matters a fuck ton." Her eyes swivel to meet Yuna's. "Sorry, sensei."

Yuna lets the swearing pass.

Gojou thinks aloud. "Like with marriage and stuff?"

"Less marriage," says Getou, startling Yuna with his entrance into the conversation. "More…ability to procreate and pass down your very rare, very coveted Techniques."

"Oh." Gojou scratches his head, thinking. "I mean, it doesn't have to be related, right? Like I can have a kid or something but just be married to someone else." Gojou waves his coffee, spraying droplets of condensation from the cup everywhere. "And this is hypothetical and stuff, I'm only fifteen, no one's thinking about this. I'm not committed to anything but just expressin' interest in options, y'know."

"Gojou-kun," says Yuna suddenly, "I assure you fifteen is old enough for your family to be thinking about these things."

The three students look at her simultaneously, and Yuna wishes she hadn't said anything. It's unlike her to let words slip loose.

"Excuse me," she says. "I merely mean…you should anticipate that other members of your family may not react favorably if you were to announce that you'd want a male partner."

"Well, yeah, I know that," says Gojou. He looks bored with the conversation about his family. "It's why we don't talk about these things. But the thing you guys don't get is that I am literally the only person that matters in the Gojou family. I'm the only candidate to be heir. Dontcha think they'd just let me do whatever I want?" He leans his head back. "I mean, who's going to stop me?"

A long silence follows. It's enough to make Gojou straighten back up and look at them expectantly. Yuna thinks she sees a flash of something akin to fear in his eyes—that he's said something wrong, that he's revealed too much of himself too early, that they can never understand just how powerful he is—but the uncertainty flashes dark and disappears, immediately drowned out by cerulean impaled by rays of golden sunlight.

Yuna is the one who breaks the silence.

"I suppose you're right, Gojou-kun. You know your family best." She hands him another pastry. His expression shifts from wary to mottled grateful, and he accepts the lemon curd bun with unusual hesitation. "You should know boyfriends can be a handful too, though, if you're just looking for the easy way out."

"Is that right, sensei," grins Gojou, microscopic relief in his tone at the change of subject. "Speaking from personal experience?"

"I suppose you could call it that," she says offhandedly. She distributes Getou his coffee and pastry of choice, the red bean bun.

"Oh?" Gojou leans forward eagerly. "Lots of boyfriends? Lots of wild experiences?"

"No. I should have perhaps rephrased and said I had the ultimate boyfriend experience instead."

"What's that?"

Yuna sips her drink, already diluted from the rapidly melting ice. The car is starting to warm up as the sun's rays brighten with the time they've lost chatting. She starts the engine.

"A husband."

Suguru thinks, not for the first time, that Morimoto-sensei looks like she belongs perpetually in tea ceremony. Her face is always serene, her fingertips sharp and polished, and each of her miniscule movements is beautifully fluid even as she moves the steering wheel. She speaks little unless she has purpose, and she is fascinatingly hard to read. She looks like she could be either a perfect shrine maiden or hotel receptionist, with her meticulously combed hair and milky skin and soft features that fade her into the background, a mirror to her opposing converser, betraying nothing of her own thoughts.

She is the opposite of Satoru, who seizes the attention of any room, the beacon of magnetic light, who chatters endlessly about everything and nothing.

Yet, they match in their dispassion when they reveal reputation-shattering news. Suguru feels slightly queasy with how much he's had to absorb before seven a.m.

"Getou-kun, are you all right?"

They're now halfway into their drive. Unable to get more details about Yuna's marriage after half an hour of wheedling (entirely through Satoru's efforts, though Shouko had appeared marginally interested), Satoru and Shouko have fallen asleep in the back, despite the caffeine Yuna had generously provided.

"Yes, I'm fine," he lies, shaking off some nausea.

"You look uncomfortable." Yuna's gaze shifts from the highway briefly to Suguru. "Did the bread not sit well with you?"

"I think it's the coffee," admits Suguru. "I'm usually a tea drinker."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I should've gotten that for you instead."

"No, it's fine. Thank you for the food."

"There's gum in the compartment in front of you. It may make you feel better."

Suguru searches the compartment and pulls out a pack of spearmint gum. He pops a stick in his mouth, grateful for the burst of sharp flavor that immediately soothes his stomach.

"Thanks, sensei."

Yuna hums. "You should sleep, too."

"No, I'm all right. I can keep you company."

"That's very kind of you."

Suguru leans back in his seat, enjoying the rumble of the engine and the tiny breeze provided by the car's air conditioning. Outside, greenery skirts past quickly. It is a sunny day with few clouds, and as they delve deeper into the mountains, he feels calmer. He feels a bit silly, being as worked up as he was, but only Satoru can drop such a bombshell about contemplated sexuality and unrivaled power and fall asleep right after, leaving everyone else to stew in his shit.

Yuna breaks him from his reverie. "Getou-kun, are you adjusting all right to Tokyo? I know you're a long way from home."

"It's been quite fun, actually. I was the only kid in my village who had a Cursed Technique. There were several others who could see curses, which made things easier because at least I knew I wasn't insane," he laughs, "but still. It's nice to be around others like me."

"Yes, it's a special community. Everyone's still a little insane, but it's better to be insane together than separately."

Suguru isn't entirely sure how to respond.

"Sorry, that came out blunter than I meant for it to be," she says while he is trying to think of a polite answer. "I just mean, when everyone is a little crazy together, it makes everything seem normal sometimes."

"I know what you mean." Suguru glances back at Satoru, who is sleeping with his mouth open. A small pocket of drool is collecting at the corner of his mouth. "Though a certain degree of insanity can't be normalized, no matter what."

Yuna follows Suguru's glance to Satoru, then looks sharply back at him.

"Liking boys isn't insane, Getou-kun."

Yuna's tone, which has always been nothing but smooth, polished glass, suddenly bursts with jagged edges poised to slice him into fine ribbons.

"N-no," Suguru stammers uncharacteristically. "That's not what I meant. I don't care about that." That was a lie. He cared, just not quite in the way Yuna had interpreted. "I meant the…the things he said afterward."

Her shoulders relax. She reaches to the overhead drawer and withdraws a pair of sunglasses she'd stored earlier. They are wider than Satoru's, covering the full of her eyes and eyebrows. The sleeve on her left arm slips up slightly as she slides the glasses on; Suguru glimpses black ink circling her forearm, but Yuna tugs her sleeve back down fairly quickly before he can make sense of what looked like kanji characters.

"You mean about no one really being able to stop him?"

"Sort of. More…" Suguru stares ahead even though the sunlight is too bright and he has no sunglasses of his own. "More like the fact that he knows he won't suffer any consequences."

Yuna hums in thought. He is slowly realizing that Yuna has hums for multiple situations, for accepting thanks when she doesn't think it needed to be given, for contemplation, for buying time, and sometimes, for disappointment she doesn't want to voice aloud. This hum is one to buy time.

"The world has an abundance of suffering and consequences, Getou-kun. It comes in different shapes and forms, depending on the person. Gojou-kun may not suffer consequences in the same way you and I may, but…" She chooses her words carefully, "I imagine he is aware that whatever consequences he will suffer down the line will be on a different scale entirely."

"I suppose."

"I apologize. I shouldn't have grouped you and me together."

"What do you mean?"

"You're a Special Grade, too, Getou-kun. In reality, your constraints are more similar to Gojou-kun's than mine." Her lips quirk. "That was quite presumptuous of me, really."

Suguru doesn't know what to say. It's true, he is Special Grade, and he knows that his Cursed Technique is extraordinarily rare and proportionately powerful. He wasn't raised like Satoru, though—he was not taught from birth that he would reshape the world of Jujutsu, that the world would and should grovel at his feet. There are things about Satoru's unabashed confidence in himself that Suguru admires, the assuredness with which he moves through the world, but he is cautious of it too. His mother had always taught him that power was meant to protect, and as a result, was meant to be shared. Two weeks of interacting with Satoru and Suguru knows that his classmate does not think in the same way—that an insatiable hunger exists in Satoru for accumulation, not distribution.

"I've made you uncomfortable," remarks Yuna, as if she is commenting on the weather. "I apologize."

"No, I was just thinking, sensei. Satoru and I didn't quite have the same upbringing, so his outlook is a surprise to me, even if we are the same Grade."

"That is true. Growing up in the households of the Three Great Families is probably difficult for anyone outside of them to understand."

"Are you…"

"Oh, no," she shakes her head. "I'm from a lay family. I couldn't see curses until five years ago."

"That's amazing."

"You jest, Getou-kun."

"No, I'm not! That's an enormous deficit to overcome, compared to someone born into the Great Families."

"That's very kind of you, but I am well aware of how mediocre I am comparatively. I am quite fine with it."

"So what did you do before you could see curses? You were just a normal…person?"

Yuna does not reply immediately. "I wouldn't say normal. But…I was just a non-sorcerer."

"So like a student?" He guesses that Yuna is only several years older than he is.

"No, I was a housewife."

Suguru's brain short-circuits. "Wait, what? I thought…well, I first thought you were joking, but then you don't seem that type, so I just assumed it was during your time at Jujutsu High. How old were you?"

Yuna hums again. "You'll have to forgive me, Getou-kun. It's not something I talk much about."

"Of course," Suguru feels immediately ashamed for probing, "sorry."

"No need to be sorry." Suguru believes her. Yuna looks unchanged, her tone still relaxed, unlike when she'd thought so poorly of Suguru earlier. "I was the one who told you. I merely mentioned it to Gojou-kun because he didn't seem to think the prospect of marriage was something families took seriously, though, I now am reminded that our circumstances and standings are very different."

Suguru's gaze wanders to Yuna's left hand, now perched comfortably at twelve o'clock. She is not wearing a ring. He does not ask what happened to it.

"Getou-kun, if you want, you can read over the mission brief," Yuna offers, changing the subject completely. "It's in the same compartment as the gum."

"Oh, sure."

He leans forward and glances up at the rearview mirror. Satoru's eyes are still closed and his head is perched between the seat's head and the window. His mouth, though, is no longer open, and as Suguru watches closely, he notes that Satoru is breathing faster than before. He peeks discreetly at Yuna, but her sunglasses obscure most of her face, and it's not like he could read her expression anyway, but he has a hunch that she knows, and would have kept talking if she did not think Satoru was also listening.

Despite the early morning start, they arrive in the village well into the afternoon. They had stopped at a small city to eat lunch, as Ieiri's stomach growling was rather pitiable, and the stop took longer than anticipated because Gojou insisted on exploring a bit, as if he's never left Tokyo before. Yuna, still having difficulty understanding Gojou's odd responses to normal things and attributing them to a lonely childhood, gave them an hour to visit souvenir shops and sample food from the street carts. She does not regret the time—she remembers fondly the times she and Yuki were sent on missions that turned into day trips touring outside of Tokyo.

Still, she wishes she had been a bit stricter; the delay means the sun is about to set by the time the four of them approach the graveyard, having met briefly with the village head. Depending on how complicated the sealing will be, they may have to stay the night, which Yuna was hoping to avoid. If she were driving alone, she'd force herself to drive back to Tokyo regardless of the hour, but she worries about the safety of the students if she were to fall asleep at the wheel.

The path to the shrine that hosts the cemetery is muddy from a surprise rain the night before. The ground squishes unpleasantly beneath Yuna's boots and the humidity makes her blouse cling to her skin. As they get closer to the shrine, a heavy gray shroud becomes visible, hovering so densely that the tombstones underneath are hard to make out. The distinct scent of flesh rotting in open air permeates so stringently, it feels like it's seeping under their skin.

"Wow," Getou say, voice strained like he's trying not to gag. "That's pungent."

"Gross," agrees Ieiri, covering her nose with her sleeve.

Gojou seems entirely unaffected, singing an incoherent tune as he strolls forward haphazardly. Yuna tries to grab him by the back of his jacket but her fingers never reach him. He must have Infinity activated already, and Yuna wonders if he's able to prevent noxious scents from reaching his senses, too.

"Gojou-kun, please stop," she says sharply.

Surprisingly, he does, looking back at her with bemusement.

"Something seems off," she says carefully, trying not to spook them. "We should be careful."

Perhaps the shroud is to be expected—Grade Three curses can have Techniques, too—but the oppressive energy radiating from it rubs her the wrong way. She sets her backpack down on the ground and pulls out her smallest scroll.

"Come here please, you three."

They crowd around her closely as she unravels the scroll, revealing four identical paper talismans adhered inside. She peels three carefully off and sticks them on each student's shoulder.

"Miracle," Getou reads out the red word shimmering on the thin paper. "Is this written in blood?"

"Yes. One time use," she says. "The talisman will protect you from a single event that will take your life."

Ieiri whistles. "That's cool."

Yuna shakes her head. "Not as powerful as you'd think. The event has to kill you immediately; if it leaves you bleeding out for the next ten minutes, the talisman doesn't protect you. I also don't have enough cursed energy for all your talismans to go off, so…try not to all die."

"Inspiring words, sensei," laughs Gojou. He is practically bouncing on the balls of his feet out of excitement.

Yuna ignores him and retrieves another scroll from her backpack.

"We need to put up a Curtain. Getou-kun, would you like to do the honors?"

Getou seems delighted. "Yes, please."

She hands him the scroll. "We will split up into two groups. Getou-kun with Ieiri-san, Gojou-kun, you're with me. We will cross to the other side of the shrine to mark the boundary of the first Curtain. You'll see me start a second inner Curtain, and that's when you can start your spell."

"What's the second Curtain for?" Gojou asks.

"This is holy ground," she says plainly. "I'd like to set a Curtain over the tombstones to prevent them from being destroyed."

"That seems unnecessary," he frowns.

"It's requested in the mission report," says Getou.

"You are such a suck up, y'know that?" scowls Gojou. "It's fucking annoying."

"And that's rude," says Yuna, already tired. "Watch your language, Gojou-kun. I asked him to read the report. Getou-kun, Ieiri-san, the cursed object should be in the center of the shroud. The village head says it's a mirror piece that's been routinely sealed for over a hundred years, but the shroud feels too dense for something that's grown slowly. I imagine there will be a fair number of curses, potentially up to Grade Two. Watch each other's backs."

"I thought this was going to be a boring mission," says Ieiri unhappily. "If I knew there was going to be real work, I would've stayed in the car."

"You are welcome to go back if you're uncomfortable, Ieiri-san," says Yuna sincerely. "I do not want to risk your life unnecessarily. This is something I would've been dispatched to do alone, so you do not need to come."

"Nah, it's fine, I'm here anyway."

"Seems like a lot for a Grade Two sorcerer to handle alone," remarks Gojou, ever the picture of sensitivity. "Good thing we're here, huh?"

Getou opens his mouth to respond, likely to chastise him, but Yuna intervenes, even though Gojou's comment pricks her. The fact that it annoys her is a surprise to even herself. She thought she'd gotten rid of what little pride she had a long time ago; she'd even told Getou she was fine with her mediocrity. She's not one to lie.

She brushes it aside. "Let's go."

Gojou sticks his tongue out at Getou like he's a five-year-old, and when Yuna turns around, she glimpses what looks like Getou flipping his classmate off. It's somewhat reassuring to see Getou standing his own against Gojou; she'd been worried that Getou was a bit too proper. Ieiri, of course, is the least troublesome and somehow the most mission-driven, for she pinches her nose and drags Getou away. Yuna and Gojou head around the graveyard, avoiding the thickest part of the mist, squelching through wet mulch and mud to get to the opposite side. Yuna is running through the inventory of talismans she has in her bag and is grateful that she had the foresight to pack stronger ones when she realized she was going to be responsible for three others. She would've otherwise shown up with seals likely too weak to combat whatever is in the shroud.

Gojou breaks her from her thoughts. "Looks like you took us on a real mission anyway, hm, sensei? So much for orientation rules."

"It wasn't by choice," she responds. "Yaga-sensei requested it." She normally would hold her tongue after, but Gojou's comment from before still stings, so she unwisely continues. "I don't appreciate you going behind my back, Gojou-kun. If you have issues with me, you should bring them to me directly. You don't need your family to get Yaga-sensei to strongarm me into doing things I don't want."

Gojou stops in his tracks, causing Yuna to halt and turn around, wide-eyed and expecting a curse to appear. Instead, Gojou is just staring at her, his eyes visible behind his sunglasses, alight with blue flames.

"What are you talking about?" he says, voice deadly.

A shiver runs down Yuna's spine. She's fucked up. She shouldn't have said anything—why would she pick a fight with Gojou, he's just a teenager, but a teenager who could rip her to shreds with a snap of his fingers. She should've suppressed her irritation as she always does, there was no reason for a change in her behavior now, of all times.

"Sorry," she says, her words coming breathless. "That was out of line."

"No, what—what are you apologizing for?" Gojou says, visibly frustrated. "You didn't say anything—I just meant, what are you literally talking about? My family pressured you into bringing me on a mission?"

She should stop talking. If she could just walk back the last ten seconds, she would not be in this mess; she learned this lesson so long ago, how could she forget? If she just did not speak, if she just did not express her thoughts, she would be safe—

Gojou takes a step and reaches out toward her shoulder. "Sensei."

Yuna jerks back almost violently, Gojou's fingertips brushing her collar just barely, but she escapes. Her mind whirs, she needs to give an answer but she doesn't know what it will be. Her mouth opens to give some excuse, but no words form. Instead, blood trickles out of her mouth, a silent answer, like penance. It feels as if someone has taken a chain heated in a burning furnace, wrapped it around her torso, and pulled the opposing ends so tightly her body will surely rip in two. Her cursed energy immediately depletes, and she sees black. She drops to her knees, gasping, while Gojou's voice reaches her muffled as if through water.

She has only felt this once before, for Yuki, late in their first year, after which Yuki declared her Cursed Technique "fucking fantastic."

Once is enough to never forget. After all, one can never quite forget the sensation of a Miracle burning.