.
.
.
.
A young man was lying on the rooftop. Alone.
His arms folded behind his head. His eyes are closed.
The breeze gently blew on his ashen white hair.
"Mou! It's so damn boring!!" A smooth yet masculine voice of protest suddenly emerged from the young man.
The young man's features, complimented by the gentle sunlight, are, without exaggeration, that of a god.
His facial structure was perfect. His jaw was sharp. His eyes were azure blue. His lips were smooth. His nose was aquiline, and his lashes are soft. His skin was pristine and without blemishes. His height was tall enough to dwarf your average Japanese male.
A genetic perfection. Absolute Adonis.
"Damn... Imagine spending the last two years of your life in day as an ordinary student and a superhero curse exterminator at night. Ah! Wouldn't that make me a Kamen Rider? Teehee~" The beautiful young man monologued with a mischievous tone.
Indeed. It's been two years since Gojo Satoru, the self-proclaimed "strongest," was forced to go to an ordinary school after finishing his first year at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech.
To hone his personality and his control as the Future of the Jujutsu Society.
But in Satoru's mind—
"Absolute bullcrap. To have an ordinary life, my ass. As if those old farts gave a shit about a sorcerer's life."
Indeed. Gojo Satoru couldn't understand it. He'll understand if the higher-ups don't want him around the other Jujutsu Sorcerer students, especially the Special Grades, since he has a rather volatile andrebelliouspersonality regarding the hierarchy of the Jujutsu World.
'And it just doesn't make sense! The curses are being amped up in terms of numbers and levels just this decade alone! The amount of curses that appeared this year is five times the amount that appeared in the early 90s!' Satoru thought with exasperation.
'Don't those old farts see that there's something brewing up in the underbelly of society? How did those screw heads even think of this scheme? They're just wasting time!' Frustration appeared a bit in his eyes.
He descended from Sugawara no Michizane, the God of Learning himself. He's the inheritor of the Six Eyes and Limitless. Practically the only one to have both since 400 years ago.
And he's stuck attending normal classes all day! But admittedly, Satoru actually preferred this style of life over the random bullshit curriculum in the Jujutsu High. Can one even call it a curriculum if what's being taught is literally nothing?
"Still... This kind of life — it wasn't bad at all." The handsome, tall adonis whsipered as he closed his eyes.
'But... Can I really afford to relax now? ' His thoughts bothered him again.
The Jujutsu world is in state of upheaval. They just don't know it yet. The Jujutsu clans are depleting as the years go by. The sorcerers were too few to combat the rising numbers of curses appearing.
Satoru is aware of it. After all, when he does his exorcism duties at night, he is a bit boggled by the amount of curses he has to exorcise.
No, he's not bothered with their strength. A curse that's stronger than him is a curse that does not exist—this is what the "Strongest," Gojo Satoru, believes. He'll stomp them down like the ants that they are.
What bothers him is their sheer number. He knew that if other sorcerers took on his nightly exorcism duties even a single time, they would either come home as a corpse or go missing, with a ninety-nine percent chance of being declared dead and marked "Killed in Action" in the Jujutsu Sorcerer Records.
"Nevertheless, I wouldn't call this bad. Not bad at all," Gojo said once more as the breeze blew again.
Houjou Prep University School. One of the prep schools in Tokyo where both the Elites and Commoners enroll for a good future. It's one of those top-class schools where men and women with talent and looks are not lacking in numbers.
'Like me.' Satoru thought once more with his usual mischievous and arrogant smile.
It was an elite school—for ordinary men anyway.
Satoru was enrolled in this school at the behest of his clan elders. For an "ordinary life and further mastery of sorcerous techniques," they said. What a loaded bullshit.
Satoru would have to admit, the Gojo Clan Elders weren't as stuck up as, for example, the Zenin Clan. He still found them annoying, though.
There's no difference between Tokyo Jujutsu Tech and Houjou Prep School, though. Both of the schools don't even teach Jujutsu anyway.
"At the very least, there's no Elders here. No annoying clan politics. No Sorcerer Heads forcing their daughters at me to give them a "Supreme Jujutsu progeny"." Satoru whispered in a quiet tone. His Houjou uniform complimented his godly looks, especially as the sun shone down on him.
He's in his third year anyway. This is probably his last chance at experiencing normal life.
He fished out his phone and earphones from his pocket and put them on his ears.
He played the song present on his phone.
"White Album". That's the title of the Winter Music that propelled Morikawa Yuki to popularity many years ago.
"Ah... Yuki-chan, you would've been worthy as my wife... If only you were born at the same age as I." Gojo Satoru, the narcissistic, arrogant handsome man that he was, suddenly blurted out with a bit of a blush present in his face.
Yes. Gojo Satoru, the so-called descendant of a god and the "strongest," is inexperienced when it comes to women. A total virgin.
If his fangirls knew that information, they would collapse in cognitive dissonance.
[πππππ]
Ogiso Setsuna is an optimistic woman.
Even when hardship strikes, she tries her best to keep smiling. She's resilient that way.
"Atatatata! Work's finally done!" Setsuna exclaimed with happiness. Her part-time job's finally done.
Her disguise isn't needed anymore.
Don't be mistaken. She's not narcissistic enough to assume that there will be gigantic repercussions if he is found out working a part-time job.
It's that she's just afraid that if the people saw her working this way, they would be discouraged from being friends with her.
She's already distant enough with her classmates. After all, he's the beautiful Miss Houjou who won that title for consecutive years. Her beauty and titles discouraged any further interaction with her by her schoolmates.
After changing into her casual outfit, she walked out and wore her earphones.
The music playing in her earphones is the same music that plays on loop in her phone every day.
"White Album... It never gets old..." Setsuna hummed as she walked to her home.
"White Album". The magnus opus of Morikawa Yuki. The Music of Winter. It was her single that propelled her to popularity ten years ago.
"Hmm~ better sing this again at home." Setsuna giggled and hummed once more.
She hummed, even when she saw things that should not be there.
She hummed, even though she felt daily that her shoulder was getting a bit heavier.
She still hummed, even if the night was scary.
She doesn't like the night. She doesn't like it's unknowns. She doesn't like the darkness it exudes. She prefers the sunny day where things are certain. Where things, even if she hesitates, are apparent.
She hummed in a perfect tune.
After all, Ogiso Setsuna is a magnificent vocalist if she just tried.
[πππππ]
The sounds danced in the air.
The hammer struck the strings. Melody and harmony flowed in the quiet room.
Slender, white, pristine fingers danced across the keys.
There was no sheet music on the stand. She didn't need it. She was a prodigy, after all.
The sounds echoed in a continuous flow.
Her raven hair gracefully swayed as she sat.
Her eyes were closed. She was in a trance.
Her fingers struck the keys with soft grace, never faltering—a mark of true genius.
Chopin. Etude Op. 25, No. 5.
It was perfect. The playful melody was paired with the correct progression.
She was not one to show her emotions. She was always distant and cold, like the aristocrats of old.
She never interacted with anyone, nor did she initiate conversation.
Her only companion was the piano in the music room after school.
She loved to play. She loved the feeling of the keys, though she would never admit it to anyone.
Suddenly, she stopped playing. The sounds slowly faded from the air.
At this hour, that infuriating man should be playing the guitar. Where is he now?
This should be the time where their unofficial duet is supposed to start!
Who cares about the wall between their rooms? None of that should matter. Not when she already perfected the White Album.
She'll play classical music, and then after it was over, they would do a duet rehearsal. That's the routine.
But where is he now?
"Tch. Is he fooling around with women? How disappointing." Touma Kazusa retched out with a bit of disgust.
She wasn't infuriated. She wasn't angry. But she was abitfrustrated, though.
She showed some emotions, but only for a bit. She was too reserved and cold to express a single emotion for a long time like other people.
After he pestered her daily. Teasing her beside the desk and annoying her without end—
"Ne ne ne! Who's your favorite artist?"
"Touma-chan, do you want some sweets? Come on, hora!"
"Sleepyhead-sama, the class is over. Time to go home~"
She remembers the annoying adonis once more.
Thankfully, that dumbass did those stunts every after class. Otherwise, she would've been lynched by fanatic women who wanted a crumb of his attention.
"Tch! Then let him fool with his women then. What a shallow person," Kazusa expressed in a cold tone before continuing her musical routine and pressing the keys once more.
Oh, if only she knew how inexperienced the handsome albino head was in regards to women.
[πππππ]
Hi! This is a new fanfic. Will continue!