chapter 4: heads and feelings

cw: minor character death, normal jjk gore

Summer wanes and the leaves change color, but Suguru still has not grown accustomed to Tokyo. The city's noise grates him, and he is overwhelmed by the constant current of emotion that permeates every stranger's movements. He does not understand how stress can be so omnipresent, regardless of age—middle schoolers fret over entrance exams, young parents worry about finances, salary-workers drink away their emptiness at the end of each work week, the elderly wonder if anyone will support them in their age. Life did not feel so complicated back home. In the city, the stress festers in its underbelly, and the curses it births are vile, oppressive, and powerful.

The campus of Jujutsu High becomes a comfortable refuge; the moment he steps through the barrier, relief washes over him, regardless if the excursion outside its walls was for a brief ice cream run or a day-long mission. He'd heard from Utahime that Morimoto-sensei is responsible for maintaining the school's protections. Though Tengen-sama is responsible for the cursed energy barrier, Yuna is the one who adds the flourishes that allow the campus to be as tranquil as it is. The city's racket dulls the moment Suguru passes the school's gates, and even the air smells sweeter.

He cherishes his time on campus, limited though it is. Even though they are first years, Suguru and Satoru are Special Grades who can go on missions alone. They are deployed quickly, most of the time together but for multiple missions in succession. Apparently, Yuna is the one who pushed for them to be partnered—she maintains they are firstly students, secondly sorcerers, and she does not think it is appropriate for them to be working alone when their role is to learn from each other. Though it is unnecessary, (after his performance on his first mission, Suguru has been extra vigilant and has never been so close to dying again), Suguru is grateful. Satoru is bad company, but he is still company. And after long enough, even Satoru becomes tolerable.

Tolerable is an understatement. Satoru has his own gravitational pull, and no matter how hard Suguru tries, he falls into his orbit. Satoru is contradiction manifested, the strongest being in the world undone by mediocre strawberry shortcake and caffeine withdrawal, a cannon of power bundled into one-hundred-eighty-five centimeters ("I think I'll break one-ninety!") with no place to aim.

Suguru learns this on a mission, on a long train ride home when Satoru is being oddly vulnerable. They'd just exorcised a curse born from a young mother who'd recently suffered her fourth miscarriage. By Suguru's estimate, the curse had been born after the first miscarriage and had fed off the mother's agony, leading to a vicious cycle of multiple miscarriages. When the curse finally was exorcised and Suguru hesitantly suggested that it was the cause of her misfortune, the mother had been so emotional at the possibility of a cure, she'd knelt and kissed their feet.

It had made Suguru supremely uncomfortable. Satoru had barely blinked.

But on the way back, Satoru is pensive.

"When you die, will anyone cry about you the way she did over a bundle of cells?" he asks.

"Satoru," sighs Suguru, too tired to properly chastise him.

"You get what I mean."

"I mean…I guess. My parents, I suppose."

"Huh."

"Your death would bring about the wailing of the entire jujutsu world," says Suguru with half-tinged sarcasm.

"Wailing, sure. No one would cry like that though." Satoru leans his head back in his chair. His sunglasses press tightly up to his nose bridge. When Suguru looks at him, he can see the coastline darting by, painted by a setting sun. It bathes Satoru in a red-orange glow that makes Suguru's breath catch. "That felt really different."

"A mother's love," replies Suguru, unsure of what his classmate is getting at.

"Huh. I guess so." Satoru leans his head against Suguru's shoulder, as he often does when they are on long train rides together. Suguru doesn't push him away. "I want that."

"You want someone to cry over your dead body?" says Suguru sardonically. "How conceited are you?"

"Very, but you already knew that." His joke falls flat. "It's less the people crying over me. I want something I feel so strongly about that it makes me act like that when I lose it."

Satoru's snowy hair is soft against Suguru's chin. "Sounds like you want a love, Satoru," he murmurs into it.

Satoru hums. Suguru thinks he picked up the habit from their teacher. "I guess I do."

The wind howls around her, kicking up dirt and gravel. The broken blinds of the abandoned building—previously a mental ward—clatter loudly and a telephone pole on its last splinter moans. Yuna winces as a shard of a broken window whips past her and cuts into her arm, drawing blood, but she does not stop her hand seals. Her fingertips meet, with her third fingers flexed and joined at the second joint, forming the outline of a house in her shadow. In front of her, the levitating curse that has the form of a misshapen hawk thrashes against her barrier, trapped by a small circle of talismans she'd lured it into. The barrier glows and slowly, its diameter shrinks.

The curse beats its wings. "Free…" The wind beats harder.

Yuna dips a finger in her wound and traces the blood to a marking on her right forearm. She presses into the inked character for "Sleep." The character glows blue, and when she twists her wrist, cursed energy ripples from her outstretched palm, hitting the curse dead on.

"I'm free!" insists the curse, before her Technique sets in, and the curse collapses onto the ground.

The wind finally settles, and Yuna lets out a breath, relieved. Missions with the objective of curse retrieval rather than exorcism are more challenging, requiring much more planning and set up. Yaga had asked her to capture the next Grade Two curse she encountered that had an elemental Technique, and it had taken months for one to appear. This one luckily is a weaker Grade Two, so she has at least a few minutes for Sleep's effects to last and for her to apply the final ofuda that will immobilize the curse and seal it safely so that it can be transported.

Her phone rings as she is attaching the ofuda to the sleeping curse's wings. The caller ID says Yaga.

"Yaga-sensei," she greets.

"Hey, Morimoto. How's the mission going?"

"I just finished. One of the managers can come by and pick up the curse later. I'm about to head back to the school. Is something wrong?"

"No, just wondering if you can pick Satoru and Suguru up from the train station. And when you're back, come see me."

Yuna thinks. It's only Wednesday, too soon for a check-in, which have been happening biweekly now that the students are more comfortable with missions.

"Something's wrong," she states.

"No, nothing's wrong—why does no one trust me when I say anything—"

"Yaga-sensei."

"It's just about the Kamo clan," he finally relents. "The main family wants to visit the campus and meet the teachers."

Yuna accidentally punctures a talisman on the tip of the curse's beak and has to get another one.

"Okay."

"…That's it? Okay?"

"You are being very kind, Yaga-sensei. I appreciate it. But no one from the Kamo clan even knows who I am, much less anyone from the main family. Any association I had with them was with fringe members whom I'm sure the main family doesn't even recognize."

"I know they don't know who you are," he says impatiently. "I was calling to see if you'd be okay with it."

"Why wouldn't I be okay with it?"

Yaga doesn't answer right away, which means he's thinking about how to approach her delicately. Yuna intervenes before he breaks his brain, because Yaga's consideration for her already far exceeds what is necessary.

"I am a lowly teacher with no significant family name behind me, Yaga-sensei," she says. "My opinion is a feather's weight against one of the Three Great Families. You do not need to factor me into the school's dealings with the Kamo clan."

"You scolded me about the whole Zen'in and Gojou thing," mumbles Yaga.

She is surprised he took that to heart, though she is glad. "That was different. That was a whim that could have been adjusted. A campus visit by the main family is above board and seems serious. What are they coming for?"

"They weren't really clear. I think they're bringing their son. Maybe they want to tour the premises and see if they will send their kid to Kyoto versus us."

"The Kamo heir seems like an important student to recruit." She runs out of talismans and steps back to admire her handiwork. "I sincerely appreciate your consideration, Yaga-sensei. I will be fine. If I'm uncomfortable, I can always excuse myself."

"All right. Thanks, Morimoto. You're reliable, as always."

"Thank you. I'll go pick up the students. Have they arrived already?"

"Should be another half-hour."

"Good." It gives her time to pick up some snacks for them. They are coming back from a day trip to Yokohoma and will likely be tired. "Thank you again, sensei. I'll see you back on campus."

She hangs up, sends a brief text to the manager responsible for picking up the curse, and sends another text to Suguru letting him know that she will be picking them up at the station. She asks him for both of their snack preferences. By the time she gets to the rental car, Suguru replies back with polite gratitude and the request for two salmon onigiri and plain chips. Satoru then texts her separately, first to say he is hurt that she texted Suguru instead of him, followed by another text full of sad faces, then finally with, "I want taiyaki!"

Yuna smiles, then catches herself. She's been doing that more lately. She stows her phone away, straightens out her clothes, and starts the car, humming.

Satoru really is having a good time. Exorcising curses is usually boring, but once in a while, he and Suguru will come across a horde of strong Grade Twos and above that have enough intelligence to coordinate attacks. It can be tricky but never really dangerous, and he likes the feeling of working with Suguru, coming up with an attack strategy or laying the rules for a contest. Suguru constantly calls him a child, but he has never turned Satoru down, and when he thinks Satoru's not looking, he shares the same smug grin as Satoru when he flexes his powers. Something in Satoru stirs whenever he can make Suguru's "good kid" persona crack and his classmate embraces his ability, true to his Grade.

Battling has always been when Satoru feels most alive, whether it's on a mission or even in practical training, but the degree to which Satoru enjoys the peaceful activities catches him off guard. The first-years spend their free time lounging around the campus by the koi pond, or playing video games, or going into the city to try a new coffeeshop and buy the latest issue of Jump. He doesn't even mind lectures as much anymore. Though Yuna's lessons are rarely revelatory, class reminds him that he's a student. He never quite forgets that he is Gojou Satoru, the Chosen One, but once in a while, he thinks that he is Gojou Satoru, first-year high school student, learning how to drive. It's a feeling he's never had before, one that he's never been afforded. It's different. Satoru likes it.

Even if it never lasts long.

One cool autumn day, Yuna dismisses class early and pointedly asks that they venture out into the city, rather than go to the training grounds where they are supposed to be practicing combat with cursed tools. Satoru is still smarting that Mei beat him with a broadaxe (no Cursed Techniques or Energy allowed, but still), and pouts when he learns the training grounds are closed.

"Sensei, I never want to train but this is the one time I want to," he complains. "Mei just got back from a mission and might be up for a rematch next week, I have to practice."

"You'll have to pay her for it," replies Yuna, "and she can be expensive."

"I can pay for her!"

"You sound like a rich creep right now," Shouko rolls her eyes. "Oh, wait, you are."

"Shouko, why are you always so mean to me?!"

"Because you're literally trying to get out of a free afternoon—just don't ask questions and let's go watch a movie."

"What's going on this afternoon, sensei?" Suguru asks. Shouko groans and buries her face in her hands.

"Nothing," Yuna says, too quickly.

This makes Satoru suspicious. Yuna is a notoriously bad liar; any sentence that she takes shorter than two seconds to respond to is suspect. All three students stare at her, curiosity piqued.

Yuna caves. "We have some important guests visiting our school this afternoon. I think it would be…more optimal if you three are not around."

Satoru gapes. "Are you embarrassed of us?"

"Satoru, I understand," says Suguru, aghast, "but all of us? I am very polite!"

"You're both trash and you know it," mutters Shouko.

"Wait, me too?"

"Satoru's changed you, Suguru. Not in a good way."

The two boys respond at the same time, voices clamoring over each other.

"You're not a saint either—"

"Of course sensei doesn't want you around, you're always so mean—"

"You three, please."

Satoru glares at Yuna, who does not look in the least bit apologetic even though she has assaulted their reputations so viciously.

"I am not embarrassed of you," she says, tone her usual neutral and therefore convincing. "Our guests are the head of the Kamo clan and his immediate family. Yaga-sensei thinks that they are coming to evaluate the school as a potential option for the young Kamo heir." She looks over at Satoru. "I did not want to make things uncomfortable for you, Gojou-kun. I thought it would pressure you to speak to them as a Gojou family representative, which is inappropriate."

"Oh. Why would that be inappropriate?" he says blankly.

"I worry they will fixate on family tensions rather than your well-being as a first-year student." Yuna stacks her scrolls absentmindedly. "They should redirect these political grievances toward the adults in your family. It is not necessary to drag children into messy situations when they should be focusing on their childhoods."

"That's…really nice," says Satoru, a bit dumbfounded. "It's not a big deal though. I've met their stuffy family before."

Yuna blinks. She has large, dark eyes that droop slightly at the corners. Satoru never knows if she's about to fall asleep or cry. He's never seen her do either.

"It's not just you. I worry they will fixate on Getou-kun as a Special Grade and target him, especially when he does not have a powerful family backing him. I worry that they will identify Ieiri-san's Technique as exploitable in the future. I worry that they'll kidnap her and trap her in the Kamo compound to keep her Technique exclusively for their family's use."

Something about Yuna is off. She is always infuriatingly poised; Satoru knows he can be annoying, and he often purposefully is more so around Yuna, just to see if he can rile her up, but she never budges. The only time he'd seen any semblance of emotion from her was that one time, on their first mission, when all he could read was fear.

He reads something along those lines now, but it doesn't make any sense. Her anxieties, which she has never expressed to them before, border irrational. The Three Great Families collide, certainly, but they would not do something so blatant or drastic as a kidnapping after one meeting.

"Sounds like you're worrying a lot, Morimoto-sensei," Suguru says gently, like he's talking someone back from the edge of a cliff.

Yuna looks down at her scrolls. "It's my job, not yours. I would appreciate it if you went and had fun in the city today. It would make me worry less."

"I don't think we can," says Shouko, her voice also careful. "Utahime told me earlier that Yaga-sensei wants all students to be at the front gate at two o'clock."

A crease forms between Yuna's brows. The three students lean in to stare at it, fascinated—never has a fold formed anywhere on Yuna's skin before. Shouko once likened Yuna's face to a Noh mask, porcelain smooth.

"I see," is her only response.

"Are you okay, sensei? Do you…not like the Kamo family head?"

"I've never met him," she answers. "I have neither likes nor dislikes." She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, and the furrow between her brows clears. "Very well. I will see you at the front gates at two, then. Please wear a fresh uniform and be on your best behavior. Especially you, Gojou-kun. Any trouble you start may have ripple effects on others who do not have your family backing."

Satoru clutches his chest mockingly. "Sensei, I have never in my life caused you any trouble!"

She does not smile, but her eyes soften. "I will hold you to that, then." She gives them a small bow and exits the classroom.

Suguru lets out a whistle when the door shuts behind her.

"She seems really stressed."

"Yeah, she didn't even look like that when she was in her Miracle pain," agrees Shouko. "Wonder what's going on. You've met the Kamo head, Satoru? What's he like?"

Satoru shrugs. "A jerk, like they all are. He's not as loud as the Zen'in head, but definitely creepy. He's got a ton of concubines, from what I heard."

"That seems pretty standard for family heads."

Satoru grimaces. "Man, my future seems really bleak, doesn't it."

Suguru chortles. "Only you would find the prospect of concubines bleak."

Satoru swivles his gaze to him, wide-eyed. "Is that what you want, Suguru? You'd like that?"

It's half-said as a joke, but part of Satoru really wants to know. He has a weird feeling in his stomach, like the lurch he gets at the top of a rollercoaster. Suguru stiffens at Satoru's sudden intensity.

"No," he answers softly. "Of course not."

Satoru now feels like he doesn't have a stomach at all.

Shouko twirls a strand of hair around her index finger. "You guys are so lame."

It breaks Satoru's attention.

"Seriously, Shouko, you are the meanest out of all of us!"

"I'm trying to make you useful, but as always, you're a disappointment."

"No one in my life has ever been disappointed in me."

"That's a fucking lie. You disappoint me everyday."

"Shouko!"

"I'm trying to understand why sensei's so worried, and you're the only person who really knows anything about the Kamo clan. Be more helpful. Why are they coming?"

"She said, to bring their heir! Though…" Satoru pauses, recollecting. "That in itself is kind of weird."

"Why?"

"Well…" Satoru thinks. "It was just a rumor, but multiple of our spies had the same report. There's a possibility that the Kamo heir was born without a Cursed Technique."

Suguru's eyes bulge. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," he nods. "It's obviously a huge scandal, so it was covered up, but my parents are pretty sure it's true. The Kamo heir pretty much vanished from all public events after his fourth birthday."

"If he doesn't have a Cursed Technique, why would he need to come to a Jujutsu school?" queries Shouko.

"Maybe he has Cursed Energy and just needs to learn how to manipulate it," Suguru offers. "Just because you don't have a Technique doesn't mean you're useless."

"Not in these families," Shouko grimaces. "People without Techniques are servants. People without Energy are monkeys. It's brutal." She stands up and piles her supplies into her backpack. "I guess we'll just see then. I'm going to go freshen up before we have to all meet. Straighten out your shirts, guys, and Satoru, don't be a jackass and make things more stressful for sensei."

"There's nothing to even be stressed about," he whines, but he fixes his collar all the same.

"You better take a shower and change all your clothes," says Suguru to Shouko.

She shoulders her backpack. "Why? I showered this morning."

"You want the Kamo head to think all of us are smoking delinquents?" he says with a sly grin.

Shouko colors. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your perfume isn't as strong as you think."

"Fuck you."

"Language, Ieiri-san," says Satoru in a voice imitating Yuna's.

She flips them all off as she leaves.

Yuki calls while Yuna is getting dressed. After agonizing for nearly half an hour over what to wear, she settles ultimately on a simple navy-blue yukata with white trimmings and a white obi with a thin blue thread running through its center. The Three Great Families are traditionalists, and she thinks her current favorite dress—a modern, black sheath dress that stops half-way down her thighs—would be deemed inappropriate for their visit. She is carefully tying the sashes when her phone rings. She flips it open.

"Yuna!" Yuki's voice barrels through without even giving Yuna the chance to say hello. "Yuna, Yuna, the funniest thing happened today!"

"Good afternoon, Yuki-san," she says.

"Good afternoon! I found this hilarious kid—hey, hey, what's your name?" Someone mutters something in the background. "Aoi? Todou Aoi! Yuna, he's this third-grader who beat up a group of high schoolers. Isn't that hilarious?"

Yuna doesn't answer. She's too busy concentrating on why she can't slide her earring in and keeps jabbing her earlobe, sending tiny shocks up to her temple.

"Hello, Yuna? Are you there?"

"Sorry," says Yuna, giving up and setting the earrings down. "I'm here. That's very funny, Yuki-san. But maybe you should check if the child is injured or not."

"Oh, he's not—you're not right? No? Cool. He's fine, Yuna!"

"Somehow, I doubt that."

"Teaching has made you really maternal, huh?"

"I wouldn't call it that." Yuna's words are clipped, and though no one has ever described Yuki as a good listener, she can still tell.

"Everything okay, Yuna?"

"Yes."

"That sounds like a lie. C'mon, Aoi-kun, get on my bike, let's go get lunch and I'll teach you about curses!"

"Yuki-san, please do not go around kidnapping random children."

"It's not kidnapping, he's cool with it—you're cool with it, right? I can teach you all about girls, since you don't have a type yet."

"Yuki-san!"

"Relax, I'm not going to do anything! He's got crazy cursed energy for a kid, I bet he'll be really strong. Aoi, you don't need a helmet right, great, just hold on to me."

"Yuki-san, give him your helmet," says Yuna severely.

"But I only have one!"

"He is a child."

"Fine," groans Yuki, "here, Aoi-kun, Yuna's worried about you even though I bet your head is hard as a rock. Happy now, Yuna? You gonna tell me what's going on? Usually takes way longer for you to start scolding me."

Yuna stares at her reflection and realizes the reason she couldn't get her earrings in is because she's already wearing another pair. Her earlobe is red and angry, but thankfully she is not bleeding.

"The Kamo family is visiting campus today," she says, quietly enough so that her voice does not shake. "The head is bringing the heir to visit."

"Oh," Yuki says, her tone understanding.

She and Yaga are the only ones who know about Yuna's life before she came to Jujutsu High. Yaga knows because he is the one who enrolled her. Yuki knows because Yuna acted like she was about to die when she received a blood transfusion after a particularly nasty mission in their second-year. Even Utahime and Mei don't know anything beyond Yuna being from Ogawa, in Saitama. She told them her parents were washi makers, and given Yuna's gift for calligraphy, they believe her. She has never felt the need to tell them otherwise.

"It's nothing serious," says Yuna. "I am overreacting. They don't know who I am at all."

It has never made sense to her, how she could be so impacted by the mere mention of a family that has no concept of who she is. She feels like an ant overwhelmed by the presence of a god whose footstep does not even register her existence.

Yuki has always been uncomfortable when Yuna gets like this, and Yuna feels badly for it. It's hard to convince someone of fear when they've never experienced before; it's not just because Yuki is strong. Sometimes, Yuna thinks Yuki's brain is missing the piece that guards her fight-or-flight response. Still, her friend tries to empathize.

"It sounds serious," she says. "Do you have to meet them?"

"They want to meet the teachers."

"How old's the kid? I thought they were in elementary school still."

"I don't know anything about them. I just know Yaga-sensei asked us all to be there."

"They can't hurt you," says Yuki forcefully. "You're a teacher at the school. That means something in the jujutsu world."

Yuna does not think that's true—the higher-ups and the Great Families can do whatever they want, if they really feel strongly enough—but she appreciates Yuki's attempt to make her more comfortable.

"Yaga won't let them do anything to you. If he does, I'll come back."

Yuna smiles a bit. "Thank you, Yuki-san. I'm fine. It's just nerves. I'm sure it will all go smoothly. I'm sorry to cut the call short. I have to be at the school's entrance soon."

"Okay," she replies. "Text me after? I wanted you to look into something for me."

"I will. Thank you. Please treat the child carefully, Yuki-san, and return him to his parents afterward. I don't want to hear that a kidnapper is on the loose when I watch the evening news."

"Ha ha, very funny," says Yuki sarcastically. "He should be so lucky. All right, bye, Yuna-chan."

Yuna hangs up and tidies her clothes one more time. She straightens out the wings of her eyeliner. She applies a neutral lip gloss. She takes a deep breath. Her face is blank. Just the way they like it.

Shouko comes from a long line of sorcerers—no one too crazy, but her mom is decently powerful enough that the Great Families have never bothered her family too much because it's more trouble than it's worth. Her parents are both scholars, having both taught at the Kyoto Prefectural School a long time ago, and have since moved on to being full-time researchers. They are advisers to the Jujutsu Higher-Ups about technical aspects of the jujutsu world, such as curse classification or Grade adjustments, and therefore straddle the line of being useful without being a threat. All things considered, Shouko considers this position fortunate. Her parents are not smothering with affection like Suguru's clearly are but are also not abusive like those of the Great Families. Satoru does not remember, but she'd met him when they were little at one of those New Year's functions for the jujutsu world's upper echelon. One look at those empty, soulless eyes confirmed that she'd rather be herself, a normal kid watching horror anime, than the Messiah of the jujutsu world if it meant looking as sad as he did.

And boy, does this Kamo heir look even sadder.

The students and staff of Tokyo Jujutsu High are gathered in the front courtyard, waiting patiently for Yaga to return from a tour of the school's storage rooms with the Kamo procession. Shouko should have known that something was going on; the school grounds are pristine, with any loose leaves swept out of sight and the bushes pruned to perfection. Thanks to Gojou's sociopathic target practice, not a single rodent scurries in sight. One of the groundskeepers must have lighted incense at the multiple temples and shrines scattered around the campus. The sweet, smoky aroma wafts through the air, making Shouko lightheaded.

Soon after, Yaga returns with their guests. Even for the limited members of the main family, the party is huge. Shouko counts the family head, two women, the heir, and ten guards. The family head (Kamo Ryuusuke, if she remembers correctly) looks the part of his title: tall, thin eyes with a proportionally thin nose, with long dark hair framing his face. The women look similar to him: one is clearly the wife, haughty and beautiful with her elegant black kimono richly embroidered with red and white cranes and gold pins in her styled hair; the other is dressed humbly in a servant's kimono, plain and beige, and her hair is cropped to her shoulders. The servant lingers behind the heir, who cannot be more than six or seven, a young boy with hair tied in two loose ponytails that sit on his shoulders. He has a nervous but dutiful energy about him. He keeps his eyes closed even as he walks.

They all bow deeply when the Kamo family approaches. Shouko is standing slightly behind Yuna, who looks absolutely lovely in her yukata, her expression so plain that Shouko would have thought the nerves earlier were just a fluke, if not for Yuna's tightly grasped hands as she bows. Beside her, Suguru also bows low enough that his bangs dangle past his cheeks, but he peers up at the Kamo family curiously. He has never been as polite as he makes himself out to be.

Though, it's hard to think of Suguru as rude when his counterpart is not even present.

"Where is Satoru?" whispers Shouko when they straighten back up.

"The hell would I know?" says Suguru out of the corner of his mouth.

"You were supposed to get him!"

"He wasn't in his room."

Yuna tilts her head very slightly back to meet their eyes and shakes her head imperceptibly.

Shut up, is the message.

They do.

"Kamo-sama," says Yaga respectfully, "these are the esteemed members of our school. Our students."

He gestures to them, starting from the third-years because the fourth-years are all out on missions. Mei looks unfrazzled by the visit and bows smoothly, but Utahime twitches when Kamo's gaze lands on her. The second-years all hide behind Kusakabe, which is a bad choice because Kusakabe's cowardice is proportional to his body weight. The first-years are last. Perhaps Suguru took Yuna's concerns to heart, because he shifts a bit in front of Shouko so that she's more out of sight when they're introduced, and Shouko again tells herself she should be nicer to Suguru because ugh, he's always protecting her, even when she doesn't need it. She thinks her parents would be pretty pissed if the Kamo clan kidnapped her, and she's seen what her mom can do with her favorite scalpel.

"I've heard the first-year class is quite remarkable," says Kamo, eyes flickering between the two, "though I expected there to be another."

Yaga coughs. "Yes, Gojou Satoru is our last first-year. He must be…temporarily misplaced."

Kamo's gaze is piercing. "Is it a regular habit of this school to misplace heirs to the Great Families?"

"No, absolutely not," says Yaga, reddening. "Satoru is rather free-spirited, as you may know…"

"So you are telling me that the discipline at this school is also lacking."

"I—"

"I've heard enough," said Kamo briskly. He examines Yuna last, who appears most unassuming in front of the students, most of whom tower over her. Still, she is the only one dressed in formal garb, and Kamo seems to approve. "You are another student?"

"No, she is a teacher," steps in Yaga before Yuna can respond. "I teach the second-years and above, but am transitioning to the principal role full time next year. Morimoto Yuna is our first-year teacher who is gradually taking over my teaching duties. She is a recent graduate of our school."

Yuna bows again deeply. "I hope your visit has been pleasant thus far, Kamo-sama."

"You are the one responsible for the misplaced Gojou heir then?" says Kamo coldly.

Yuna gives one of her characteristic slow blinks before she replies. "Gojou-kun has been on a long string of missions lately. I have asked that he rest, as he returned from one late last night. I apologize for his absence and take full responsibility." She bows her head. "I was merely thinking of his well-being."

Suguru and Shouko exchange looks. In the months they've known her, Yuna has rarely lied. If she does not want to tell the truth, she typically says nothing at all. Even earlier, when Yuna had told a little white lie, it had been painfully obvious. Now, though, her words flow with little break, and nothing about her facial expression changes. She defers to the Kamo head, but she gives little room for his retaliation—after all, how can he be angry with the prioritization of an heir's health?

Kamo looks satisfied with her response. "I see."

"Yes," says Yaga, encouragingly. "Morimoto-sensei is an excellent example for the students. She even personalizes their education; the first-years all have one-on-one lessons with her in subjects that pertain to their Cursed Techniques."

Kamo muses aloud. "I have heard this. Though I am curious how learning how to drive a vehicle relates to the Gojou heir's ability to wield his Six Eyes or Limitless."

Yuna blinks twice in rapid succession, a tell that she's surprised, but recovers herself. "Yaga-sensei is being generous. I have little to offer Gojou-kun or any of my students, so I asked them what would be most helpful."

Kamo nods. "Yaga tells me you are responsible for the Constraints on the school's captured curses and cursed items."

Yuna glances at Yaga, who frowns. Shouko does not understand the exchange. "Yes."

Kamo looks like he expects her to elaborate, but she does not. He continues.

"They are well done."

"Thank you, Kamo-sama."

He is irritated with the stilted conversation. "The ofuda have remnants of a Blood Technique on them. What is your lineage?"

Shouko watches Yuna carefully, and it is only because she knows her teacher well that she notices Yuna stiffen.

"I am afraid it is unremarkable, Kamo-sama. I come from a lay family. I could not see curses until shortly before I came to this school."

"That seems unlikely." Kamo abruptly reaches out and grabs Yuna's chin, tilting it to the right, as if he is examining a piece of furniture. The students tense, but Yuna gives a small gesture to reassure them. Kamo's wife sniffs, her dark eyes flashing, but she says nothing. "Blood Techniques of any kind are surely descended from our clan."

"It is not a Blood Technique," says Yuna quietly. "I cannot manipulate blood in the way that the esteemed members of your clan can."

Kamo's grip on her chin visibly tightens, and Yuna winces.

"Are you telling me, the head of the Kamo clan, how Blood Techniques work?" he demands.

A shadow descends over the group, and the Kamo wife screams and lurches back. The servant instantly grabs the heir and shields him from sight. Shouko looks up to find a gargantuan curse that faintly resembles a dragon with two heads and eight legs, covered in scales and feathers that shimmer different shades of purple. One head is sleeping, and the other has its fangs bared, dripping a black liquid onto the ground that causes the stone path to hiss.

Ooh. Shouko wants to pet the dragon. Suguru has finally found a cute curse.

The Kamo guards immediately react—five point their weapons at Yuna, the other five at Suguru, but the Special Grade ignores them.

"Please unhand Morimoto-sensei," says Suguru, lips curled in a forced smile.

"Suguru," warns Yaga.

Kamo's grip slips down to Yuna's throat, and he squeezes. Yuna coughs, and her face grows ruddy. Suguru doesn't even try to smile anymore. The dragon above him opens his mouth, where cursed energy begins to pool along with the black poison. The liquid drips onto the guards surrounding Suguru and they howl as the poison melts into them, disintegrating even through bone. Somehow, not a single drop touches Suguru or Shouko. On the opposite side of them, Mei unhooks her axe and Utahime has her sleeves pushed up. Kusakabe, on the other hand, is trying to make himself as small as his big, dumb body will allow.

"Getou-kun," rasps Yuna. "Stop."

"Sensei—"

"Enough," snaps Kamo, releasing Yuna, whose subsequent breaths rattle as she folds over, gasping for air. "I did not come here for a war. Release your curse, boy."

The dragon snarls and the Kamo guards writhe on the ground in front of Suguru. He makes no move to dispel it.

Kamo brings his hands together, his eyes glinting. "Release your curse, boy, or I will put an arrow through your head."

"Getou-kun," says Yuna, her voice hoarse. She straightens up and her eyes are wet. "Please stop. I'm okay. Kamo-sama, I apologize. I did not mean to challenge you."

Suguru is indignant. "Sensei—"

Shouko grabs his sleeve. "Stop." She meets his gaze pointedly. I know, she communicates. It's all fucked up. But you have to stop.

Suguru understands and relents, and the dragon disappears in a wisp of gray smoke. Mei and Utahime's offensive statuses follow suit.

"Discipline is severely lacking among all your students, it seems," sneers Kamo.

Yuna bows again. "I apologize."

Kamo gestures to one of the aides who is uninjured, ignoring the ones who are moaning and clutching their melted limbs. He doesn't even bat an eye at his wife, who is pale as a sheet, or his son, who holds onto the servant's robes tightly.

"Take her name," he says to the aide that approaches. "Send a car for her tomorrow."

"I'm sorry?" says Yuna, bewildered.

"She has a good face and temperament," Kamo says to the aide. "Bring her to the family doctor for a full examination. If everything goes smoothly, I'll have her this weekend."

"What the fuck?" says Suguru.

Shouko thanks the death gods a million times over that she was not born into one of the Three Great Families. This is so fucking barbaric.

"Excuse me," interrupts Yaga. "Kamo-sama, what are you talking about?"

"Your first-year teacher is almost surely a descendant of the Kamo clan, with her Cursed Technique. Women with Cursed Techniques have higher chances of bearing children who inherit strong Techniques as well."

"Ryuusuke," his wife says, stricken. "We came here to evaluate the school, not to pick up a whore."

Kamo spins around and his wife retreats, wincing before he's even struck her.

"Watch how you speak to me, woman," he snaps. "This is for the strength of our clan. Don't speak when you could not even…" His voice trails off and he lowers his hand. He turns to Yaga. "I will arrange for everything and for appropriate compensation. We can offer a Kamo Grade One Sorcerer to take your first-year teacher's place. Your students will be well-taught, I can assure you of that."

Yaga looks furious. "You cannot—"

"Hello, everyone!"

Satoru hops off the nearest roof and lands gently next to Shouko. His uniform is supremely wrinkled and his hair is mussed up at the side. He must have just woken up from a nap.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm late," he laughs and adjusts his sunglasses. "Hi, Kamo-san! It's me, Gojou Satoru!"

"I see the Gojou boy still has yet to learn any manners," says Kamo coolly.

"Oh, you can definitely give up on that." Satoru claps a hand on Suguru's shoulder before approaching Kamo. "I just don't do anything I have zero interest in, and learning manners—definitely not! But how do you like the school, hm? Sending your kid here? Oh, hello!" Satoru waves at the child who shrinks behind the servant's yukata. "Hey there! You're gonna have a great time at school, it's way more fun than hanging around your shitty compound with your shitty dad."

"You brat!"

"Gojou-kun," says Yuna faintly.

"Don't worry, Morimoto-sensei! Everyone knows how shitty he is, it's not a secret!" cackles the Gojou heir. "He's not really trying hard to hide it, if he's soliciting a woman right in front of his wife and concubine—yes, I know who she is. Joke's on you though, our sensei's damaged goods, you don't want her anyway—"

"Satoru!" hisses Shouko, slapping the back of his head but not making contact. He has Infinity active. "Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you!"

"Oops, sorry, sensei, no offense, I was just trying to make you less appealing, I forgot that was a secret! It's okay, my goal is to prove why he's shitty, nothing about you! See, if you want me to give another example…"

Satoru suddenly appears right in front of Kamo. He's so tall that he can look down at the family head, and when he does, his sunglasses drop down his nose bridge, revealing his eyes.

"The thing about these eyes," he says, his voice now an octave deeper, "is that I remember absolutely everything. So imagine my surprise when I look over at your kid over there and don't recognize his cursed energy. That doesn't make any sense, right? I've met him before, at his first birthday, when your family threw that giant party to welcome the heir. So why wouldn't I recognize his cursed energy?"

"How would I know," snarls Kamo, his face contorted in rage. "How dare you disrespect me in such a way, does your clan want a war?!"

"My clan," says Satoru, his voice even quieter, even deathlier, "is me. I am my clan. My clan does whatever I want, because I do whatever I want. And what I want right now, Kamo-san, is for you to take your wife, the bastard child you're passing off as your heir, your concubine, and to get the fuck out of this school. The next time you lay a hand on anyone here, be it my classmates or my teacher," Satoru snaps his fingers, and the space around the injured guards folds on itself. They scream, but it lasts only a second before the space rights itself and all that is left is a contorted, grotesque pile of corpses, pooling blood. "I'll fucking kill you and your whole family."

Yuna looks like she's about to faint, but Suguru and Shouko are both grinning wildly. Suguru's dragon is back, and the Curse Manipulator waves.

"Count me in too, Satoru."

"Oh, great!" says Satoru, clapping his hands together as if they'd all just agreed to get bubble tea later.

Kamo is livid, but he knows he cannot beat two Special Grades, even if they are only first-years. He turns to Yaga.

"If this is the way you run this school, I'm afraid Kyoto will be the better choice," he snarls. He gestures impatiently to his posse and exits the front torii swiftly. Most of his remaining guards gather around the women and child and follow suit. Two collect the garbage ball of human bodies that Satoru mutilated, lifting it with queasy expressions, before disappearing out of sight.

Once the front gates close, the Tokyo School members release a collective sigh of relief.

"What the fuck was that, Yaga-sensei," snaps Utahime. She strides over to Yuna and lays a gentle hand on her throat. "Are you okay, senpai?"

"How was I supposed to know they were going to try and do that?" says Yaga wearily. "I knew it was going to be bad, but I didn't think it was going to be that bad."

"I'm fine," says Yuna with a grateful expression. Her voice is still scratchy. She turns to all of them and bows deeply. "I am incredibly sorry for the trouble I caused."

"It wasn't your fault, you didn't do anything!" says Utahime, incensed.

"Seriously," Shouko agrees. She gestures for Yuna to let her touch her neck and pulses her Technique through. It repairs the broken capillaries swiftly; thankfully the damage is not more than that. "I knew they were backwards, but didn't think it was to the point where he thought he could just pick up a random woman with zero consent."

"He thinks he owns anyone with a drop of Kamo blood," comments Mei after checking that Yuna is all right.

"Barbarians," mutters Shouko. "Good on you, Suguru, for bringing that curse out. Especially when Satoru was, as always, missing and utterly useless."

"I'm not useless, I had to call home and confirm the rumors!" whines Satoru. "Plus, I saved the day in the end!"

"All while being a complete dick to sensei again!"

"And killing on campus grounds," says Yaga sternly. "I am going to have to give you and Suguru both detention."

They blanch. "What?!"

"I think it'd be appropriate for Morimoto to designate your punishment. What do you think—Morimoto?" Yaga's tone turns flustered.

They spin around and find Yuna staring at them, eyes glassy.

"Um." She tries, but her voice doesn't come out right. Shouko panics. Did her Technique mess something up? "Sorry. Hold on." She brings a hand up to her face, but the tears rolling down her cheeks are unmistakable.

"Senpai!" Utahime hugs her. "It's okay, you're all right! They're not going to hurt you."

"We should go kill them," says Suguru, tone murderous.

"Yeah," agrees Satoru.

"No, I'm not…" Yuna throws a hand out while the other covers her face. "I'm fine. I'm sorry. I don't know. I'm happy."

"Eh?"

Yuna wipes her face carefully and smiles at them—not one of those cryptic, fleeting ones—she really smiles at them, eyes winking, dimples creasing, teeth showing. Shouko feels like she's watching a Miracle unfold, right in front of them, and her heart stutters—Gods, this school, feelings, UGH.

"Thank you for offering me this job, Yaga-sensei," Yuna says, smiling like a beatific shrine maiden, wholesome and pure. Damaged goods, Satoru's ass. "I'm so glad I took it."