A/N at the end of the chapter
readers, we reached AO3 and WATTPAD, so from now on weekly update!
CHAPTER 31
POV: Suzue Kujou
Suzue had already had it with the day, and it wasn't even mid-morning.
She stood at the top of the stairs leading to Tokyo Jujutsu High, already exasperated by everything unraveling before her. Of course, Satoru had managed to stir up the pot before even making an appearance. Typical. But as much as she wanted to sigh in frustration and march right back to bed, she couldn't. The exchange event was today, and it was already shaping up to be a disaster.
But, to rewind a bit.
It had all started innocently enough. When she first arrived at the meeting point, she was relieved to see most of the students already gathered, along with Hibiki, Principal Yaga, and, to her mild surprise, Mei Mei. Suzue should have known better than to think things would remain calm for long, especially with Mei Mei lurking around.
Mei Mei, of course, wasted no time in making Suzue uncomfortable. The silver-haired woman had slinked over, her air of nonchalance and unnerving confidence radiating from her like a cloak. She had come far too close for comfort, standing almost shoulder-to-shoulder with Suzue as if they were old friends.
"Which we are absolutely not," Suzue reminded herself.
In fact, they had spoken all of twice in the past—both times in less-than-ideal situations, and both times Satoru had ended up footing an absurdly large bill. Suzue had quickly learned that Mei Mei was one of those people who turned everything into a business deal, and if you spoke to her for longer than a minute, you'd probably owe her money.
«Kujou.» Mei Mei purred, her voice dripping with faux familiarity. She leaned in as if they were old friends, her eyes twinkling with something far more mischievous. «How's the repopulation project going?»
Suzue bit her lip, inwardly groaning. "Repopulation project?" The meaning behind those words hit her like a freight train. The blush that crept up her neck and onto her face was instant. She wanted to melt into the ground, disappear, anything to avoid dealing with Mei Mei's smirking insinuations about her and Satoru… and, well, hypotetical offspring.
«I—uh—what—» Suzue stammered, struggling to form a coherent sentence, her face now a deep shade of crimson.
Mei Mei merely raised an eyebrow, her smirk growing wider. It was almost like she thrived off the chaos, feeding on Suzue's embarrassment. «Oh? Not yet?» she replied, leaning in ever so slightly, her voice dripping with mock curiosity. «You mean the great Satoru Gojo hasn't locked you down yet? Such a shame.»
Suzue's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. How had this conversation spiraled so out of control in mere seconds?
The students around them had burst into barely-suppressed snickers. Even Hibiki was biting back a grin, her eyes twinkling mischievously. And of course, Principal Yaga—forever the long-suffering head of the school—was massaging his temples like he had a migraine the size of Tokyo, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like «Why do I even bother?» The poor man already looked like he'd had enough of everyone, and the day hadn't even properly started.
Suzue had wanted to evaporate right then and there. "Why does she always do this?" Mei Mei's ability to zero in on exactly the right comment to make Suzue want to crawl into a hole was nothing short of an art form. "She probably just does this to mess with Satoru" Suzue thought bitterly, though there was also a growing fear that Mei Mei might actually bill Satoru for that very conversation. At this point, Suzue was half-convinced that even acknowledging Mei Mei's existence would result in a charge to Satoru's account.
And then, of course, the Kyoto students arrived, just in time to witness the ongoing spectacle, and with them came a whole new set of problems. No sooner had they stepped foot onto the grounds than the tension skyrocketed. Sharp words were exchanged almost immediately—thinly veiled threats and cutting remarks flying back and forth between the Tokyo and Kyoto students like verbal grenades.
Suzue had expected it, but that didn't mean she was prepared to deal with it. Nobody seemed to be, really. Yaga stood there with his arms crossed, a look of exasperation growing deeper with each passing second. The Kyoto professor, who had shown up looking completely put together, now appeared as though she might have a nervous breakdown at any moment. Even Mei Mei, with her usual air of indifference, looked a little too amused by the whole thing, as if the ensuing chaos was some sort of personal entertainment.
And Suzue? Well, she had already resigned herself to the fact that trying to calm the situation would be a futile effort. It was like trying to reason with a pack of wild animals. No one was in the mood for peace. It was going to be a long day.
'
Just to make matters worse, there was this girl among the Kyoto students who kept glaring at Suzue like she was the embodiment of everything wrong in the world. She looked so much like Maki that it was almost eerie—same sharp eyes, same intense expression. That had to be Maki's twin sister, Mai, right? Suzue had heard about her before from Maki—how she had stayed loyal to the Zenin clan while Maki had cut ties. And now, apparently, since Suzue had managed to get on Naoya Zenin's bad side, Mai had decided to hate her too. Fantastic.
Suzue hadn't even had much contact with Mai or Maki back when she lived under the Zenin roof. She was merely a "ward", someone to be tolerated at best and dismissed at worst. Maki and Mai had always belonged to the prestigious main family, and Suzue? She was just an afterthought. But now that she had somehow become a thorn in Naoya's side, Mai seemed determined to make Suzue feel like public enemy number one. Apparently, if you pissed off one Zenin, you pissed off all of them.
"Fantastic. Another Zenin to add to my growing list of haters."
And then there was Principal Gakuganji.
The man had been glaring at her with such intensity that Suzue half-wondered if he was trying to set her on fire with his mind. He didn't say a word to her, but he didn't need to—his beady eyes were locked on her as though she were the worst thing to happen to Jujutsu Society since cursed spirits were invented. And that was putting it mildly.
She didn't know why he hated her so much—she barely knew the man—but his piercing gaze made her skin crawl. It was guilt by association. Being linked to Satoru Gojo came with its own set of enemies, and Gakuganji had long despised Satoru.
She sighed heavily. "This is going well."
And yet, with all this chaos swirling around her, there was one thing Suzue couldn't stop thinking about.
"Where the hell is Satoru?"
He was late. Painfully late. And his absence had not gone unnoticed. Sure, Satoru was unpredictable and had a knack for making dramatic entrances, but this? This was pushing it. The students had already begun circling each other like sharks, the teachers were growing visibly irritated, and the Kyoto principal was practically radiating impatience.
Then, as if things couldn't get worse, Principal Yaga stalked over to her with an air of barely contained frustration. His brow was furrowed, his shoulders tense, and Suzue could already feel the impending scolding. «Kujou.» he grumbled, his tone low and dangerous, like he was about to snap. «Where is he?»
Suzue blinked up at him, wide-eyed and nervous. What did he expect? That she would always know where Satoru was? She stared at him, trying to project the most innocent, "I-really-don't-know" look she could muster. But Yaga wasn't buying it. He just stared harder, eyes narrowing behind the sunglasses, like he could somehow will the information out of her.
"Oh no", Suzue thought, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. Of course, Yaga knew. Everyone knew. By now, it was common knowledge that she and Satoru were, well... something, she supposed. Though, with Satoru, nothing was ever that simple. Still, everyone expected her to have a radar on him at all times. And truth be told, sometimes she did. But not today. She genuinely had no clue where that idiot had gone.
She shook her head, eyes wide, trying to convey with her expression, "I have no idea where he is".
Yaga wasn't convinced. His stare became even more intense, as if silently communicating, "If anyone should know, it's you."
Suzue's face flushed deeper, her stomach twisting in knots. She didn't know! It wasn't like she had a GPS on Satoru, and frankly, she was starting to get frustrated with his chronic tardiness. It seemed even the Kyoto students were growing restless, shifting impatiently as they waited for the one person everyone was clearly expecting.
'
The Kyoto professor looked seconds away from a nervous breakdown, her elegant facade cracking under the weight of the situation. The tension was climbing higher, and Suzue could feel it. Everyone was staring, waiting, and just when she thought she might explode from the pressure of it all, a familiar, infuriatingly smug voice called out from behind them.
«Sorry I'm late. Miss me?»
Suzue closed her eyes and let out a long, exasperated sigh. "Great. This is going from bad to worse."
Satoru's entrance was nothing short of a disaster waiting to happen, and Suzue felt every ounce of her dread solidify the moment she laid eyes on the massive box he wheeled in on a cart, like some twisted surprise gift wrapped in chaos.
"Oh no. No, no, no..."
She could practically see the storm clouds forming, hear the gears of disorder clanking into motion with every step he took. Satoru seemed utterly oblivious—or more likely, delighted—by the tension crackling in the air. He grinned, pushing his absurd cargo, a glint of mischief surely sparkling beneath his blindfold. Did he really think he was some kind of mastermind here?
He wasn't.
As Suzue watched the scene unfold, a headache began to pulse at the base of her skull. Satoru, true to form, didn't seem to register that he had just wandered into what was essentially a tense battlefield. Instead, he'd made his grand entrance, wheeling his box straight into the middle of the gathered Kyoto and Tokyo students, their teachers, and the irritated staff. With a blindingly cheerful grin, he announced, «Souvenirs!» as if this wasn't the worst possible moment.
Souvenirs. As if this were a summer camp, not a fraught encounter between rivals.
He tossed out small trinkets with reckless abandon, that infuriating smirk plastered on his face as though he was doing everyone a favor. The Kyoto students blinked in dumbfounded silence, caught somewhere between bewilderment and offense, while the Tokyo students exchanged mortified glances, torn between disbelief and the faintest hint of humor. Suzue saw Megumi narrow his eyes, looking two seconds away from hurling one of the souvenirs back at him. Nobara muttered curses under her breath, her knuckles turning white as she clenched her fists. Even Hibiki stifled a laugh, her hand clasped over her mouth as she watched the spectacle unfold.
In the span of thirty seconds, Satoru had managed to irritate nearly everyone within range. The Kyoto teacher, Utahime—yes, that was her name, Suzue recalled—looked as though she was seconds away from throttling him, her jaw clenched, eyebrow twitching dangerously. Meanwhile, Principal Yaga rubbed his temples in frustration, his face painted with the resignation of a man wondering if he should just retire early. As for Principal Gakuganji, the elderly head of Kyoto's Jujutsu School, he had gone from slightly irritated to red-faced fury in record time, his gaze fixed on Satoru with open hostility.
Satoru simply grinned wider. «Utahime, you're looking as grumpy as ever!» he called out, his voice oozing with mock cheerfulness. The woman's nostrils flared, her eyes narrowing further as if she was mentally calculating how many years in prison it would cost her to throttle him.
Suzue felt her pulse quicken, her gaze flicking nervously between the fuming teachers and students. But then her attention drifted back to the box. That damn box. It sat there on the cart, its shadow cast long and foreboding, like a terrible omen. She felt dread pool in her stomach, her instincts screaming at her to look away, yet she couldn't. "Please, no", she thought, a terrible realization forming in her mind.
She knew who was inside.
'
Sure enough, the inevitable disaster struck. With a creak that sent shivers down her spine, the lid of the box slid open, and out popped Yuji Itadori, a wide, unabashed grin on his face as though he'd just burst out of a birthday cake. «Hey, everyone! I'm still alive!» he announced with far too much enthusiasm, his voice ringing out across the courtyard.
The courtyard went dead silent. The only sound was the faint echo of Yuji's cheerful announcement. Suzue's heart plummeted, her face flushing as every pair of eyes in the area turned towards the grinning boy who was, apparently, very much not dead.
The only person who seemed remotely happy about the situation was, predictably, Satoru, who looked like as if he'd won a grand prize. He was practically glowing with satisfaction, basking in the look of absolute disbelief on Gakuganji's face.
Suzue's heart sank even lower as she took in the scene. The Kyoto students' expressions shifted from shock to disdain; their eyes darted between her, Satoru, and Yuji with varying degrees of horror and disgust. Megumi and Nobara were glaring at Yuji with such intensity that Suzue briefly considered stepping in before things escalated into outright violence.
Yaga seemed to be contemplating which wall he'd like to bash his head against. Hibiki was stifling a laugh, while Utahime looked like she was about to have an aneurysm.
Yaga's patience finally snapped. With a frustrated growl, he stormed over to Satoru, grabbing him by the collar and practically dragging him away from the mess he'd orchestrated. Satoru barely put up a fight, though Suzue noted the amused smirk on his face as he glanced back at her, as though this was all part of some elaborate prank. In one quick movement, Yaga yanked Satoru back toward the center of the Tokyo group, muttering something under his breath that sounded distinctly like a warning.
«Get your act together.» Yaga barked, giving Satoru a warning shake.
But by then, it was too late. The damage had already been done. Suzue felt a prickling at the back of her neck, and as she looked around, she realized that nearly everyone's attention had somehow shifted to her. The weight of countless eyes pressed down on her, filled with suspicion, confusion, and more than a little anger.
Why was everyone looking at her?
Megumi and Nobara's eyes were the worst. Megumi's brow was furrowed, his stare intense and unrelenting, while Nobara's mouth was set in a hard line, her gaze practically demanding an explanation. Hibiki was looking at her with a strange mixture of sympathy and barely concealed amusement, while Utahime's narrowed eyes flickered between her and Satoru, clearly assessing the entire debacle with disdain. Mei Mei, of course, was finding the entire situation hilarious. Her smug, entertained expression made Suzue want to crawl into a hole and disappear.
And then there was Gakuganji. His glare was ice-cold, a seething storm of barely restrained fury that made her feel like she was a child being caught in a lie. Suzue's palms began to sweat as her mind raced.
Then there was Satoru.
Suzue's mind went blank for a moment, her gaze slowly drifting to Satoru. He was standing next to her now, perfectly at ease in this monumental disaster he had created. His face was the very picture of innocence, and she would have believed it too, if she didn't know him so well. He even had the audacity to lean in close to her, far too close for comfort given the fact that half the school staff was staring at them.
«So,» he whispered casually, as if this wasn't an absolute catastrophe, «what's up with your hair?»
Suzue blinked, stunned into silence. My hair? She stared at him, wide-eyed and flustered. Seriously, my hair? Her cheeks flushed, both from embarrassment and frustration, as she remembered the ridiculous braids he'd woven into her hair while she'd slept, which she'd tried and failed to straighten out this morning.
She glanced around quickly, seeing the confused and irritated stares of their colleagues and students. They were all waiting for something—for an explanation, maybe? For someone to fix this disaster?
«Why do they all keep looking at me?» Suzue whispered frantically, her voice a strangled plea. She could feel her face burning with embarrassment as she scanned the surrounding, the hostile stares making her want to shrink into herself.
And then it hit her like a truck.
Oh. Right. The lie.
The grand tale that Satoru had spun—that she was the one who had killed Yuji, the vessel of Sukuna. That she had somehow been the hero who'd eliminated a danger to the entire Jujutsu world. Thanks to that story, she'd been hailed as some sort of unsung hero, given accolades, a promotion, autonomy.
She turned her wide, horrified eyes to Satoru, who was doing his very best to avoid her gaze, looking suspiciously at the sky as if the clouds held some great secret. And now? Now?
Now Yuji was standing there, alive and very much not killed by her, after having crawled out of a box in front of their adversaries. How was she supposed to explain this? Her "victory" had been celebrated across the Jujutsu world. She had single-handedly taken down the vessel of the most dangerous curse in existence—or at least, that's what everyone believed. And now... now she was a walking contradiction, the lie exposed for all to see.
Suzue's face drained of color as she realized the mess she was in. She shot Satoru a look of pure, desperate panic. He, of course, was doing an admirable job of pretending not to notice. His gaze wandered off to the sky, his expression disturbingly innocent as though he hadn't just lit the match on this entire disaster.
"He didn't think about this, did he?"
He hadn't considered what this revelation would mean for her—how it would leave her exposed in front of the most powerful and judgmental figures in the Jujutsu Society.
"Of course, he hadn't." He never thought about the consequences.
'
Suzue could feel the weight of Megumi and Nobara's stares, the burn of their confusion and irritation searing into her from across the courtyard. They were waiting—expecting something, anything. An explanation, maybe? A reason for why she hadn't told them the truth. Why she'd let them believe that she'd really killed Yuji.
She tried to avoid their gaze, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve, her mind scrambling for a response. "Lie," a voice in her head whispered. "Just say something, anything." But she wasn't good at lying, not to them, not to these students who trusted her. Her throat tightened, and before she could stop herself, words tumbled out in a messy rush.
She opened her mouth, the words fumbling clumsily as she blurted out, «I-I mean… I thought he was dead-»
Megumi's eyes narrowed, his brow furrowed in a way that made her feel as if she were under a spotlight, and Nobara's arms crossed over her chest, her lips pressed into a thin, unimpressed line.
«You thought?» Nobara repeated, her voice dripping with skepticism.
«Y-Yes!» Suzue stammered, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. «I really… I mean, at the time, it seemed like—» She stopped herself, realizing how ridiculous she sounded. The words were failing her completely. "You're not fooling anyone, Suzue", she thought, internally cringing at how unconvincing her attempt at lying was.
«Look,» Suzue said, her voice barely above a whisper, «I… I didn't know. I really thought… I mean, he was actually dead at some point, but...» She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence because even she didn't believe it. They weren't buying it, and she couldn't blame them. What else could she say? Nothing she said was going to make this better. She could feel her face flushing with embarrassment, the warmth creeping up from her neck to her cheeks as the silence stretched between them.
She turned her head, her gaze desperately flicking around the courtyard, only to land on someone far worse than Megumi or Nobara. Her stomach dropped as her eyes met those of Principal Gakuganji. He was glaring at her with such undisguised contempt it made her skin crawl. The intensity of his stare was so sharp, it felt like it could cut right through her.
She could feel the disapproval radiating from him, a man who clearly thought she was the worst thing to happen to Jujutsu society. Why wouldn't he? He was one of the conservatives, a staunch traditionalist who'd been behind the mission to eliminate Yuji from the beginning. He had likely supported the decision to send her to do it, back when the Zenin had given her that secret assignment.
And now? Now she was the very embodiment of his failure, having "killed" Yuji in the story Satoru had spun, only for Yuji to reappear in front of him, very much alive.
The scorn in his expression was too much, and Suzue quickly dropped her eyes again, staring at the ground as if it could save her. Her fingers twitched, and she instinctively clutched at the hem of her black overalls, as if the soft fabric could somehow ground her.
«Oh, by the way,» As if sensing her spiraling panic, Satoru leaned in close again, his voice low but filled with his usual casualness, as his hand rested lazily on her shoulder. «He's glaring at you because he's—what's the word?—pissed.» he explained, as though it wasn't already obvious. «You know, being from the old conservative faction and all. Definitely had a hand in the Zenin's original assignment for you to, well… you know, eliminate Yuji. He was pretty pleased with himself when I told everyone you'd actually done it.»
Suzue swallowed hard, her palms sweating as Gakuganji's cold eyes stayed locked on her, like she'd just personally insulted his entire lineage. She didn't need Satoru's running commentary to understand why the man hated her. She had disgraced him—unintentionally, sure—but that didn't make it any easier to deal with now.
«Now?» Satoru continued with a half-smirk, clearly enjoying himself a bit too much. «Well, now he's probably furious with you for making him look like a fool.»
Suzue's jaw clenched. Of course. She didn't need Satoru to spell it out for her—she had already pieced it together, but hearing it out loud just made it worse. And worse still, Satoru seemed almost pleased with himself for pointing it out, like it was some grand revelation.
«I already figured that out!» Suzue snapped, her panic creeping into her voice as she cast a frantic look at Satoru. «Do you think I'm completely oblivious?»
Satoru just blinked at her, his expression feigning innocence, though the amusement dancing in his eyes was unmistakable. He leaned in even closer, his lips practically brushing her ear. «Well, it wouldn't hurt to remind you every now and then.» he teased, his voice a playful whisper that made Suzue's stomach do an unexpected flip.
She shot him a look that was meant to be scathing, but with her nerves on edge, it probably came off more flustered than anything else. «What am I supposed to do now?» she whispered, her voice shaky. «Did you even think about the consequences of this whole thing?» she hissed, lowering her voice as much as she could while trying not to draw even more attention.
Satoru blinked at her, tilting his head like he didn't quite understand the gravity of her question. «You're not freaking out, are you?» he asked, his voice dripping with that teasing edge that always made her want to smack him. «It's just Gakuganji. You're telling me you can't handle one grumpy old man?»
She gawked at him, her mind reeling. «You—!»
But she stopped short.
Suzue stared at him, her mind still spinning, but there was something about the way he said it—so confidently, so assuredly—that made her pause. He wasn't doubting her, wasn't even considering the possibility that she couldn't handle this. To him, it was simple. Of course she could handle it.
This was what he always did—this relentless, infuriating belief he had in her, even when she doubted herself. Even when she was drowning in uncertainty, there he was, unshaken and unwavering, as if he knew something about her that she hadn't figured out yet.
«Come on,» he added, his smirk softening into something more encouraging. «You really think you can't handle a few dirty looks and snide comments from an old man? I've seen you face worse.»
Suzue let out a shaky breath, her fingers curling into fists at her sides as she straightened her back, squaring her shoulders. Managing the glares of an opportunistic, hypocritical old man? She could do that. If Satoru thought she could face this, then maybe, just maybe, he was right.
Could she navigate the tangled web of politics, expectations, and grudges that surrounded her in the jujutsu world?
"Of course", she thought, straightening her posture. She could handle an old, opportunistic man like Gakuganji. And if not… well, Satoru was always there to pick up the pieces.
She glanced back at Satoru, his smirk still in place, and despite the chaos swirling around them, she couldn't help but feel a small surge of confidence.
«Yeah,» she muttered under her breath, though her voice was steadier now. «I've got this.»
Satoru's grin widened, «That's my girl.»
She turned back to face the courtyard, avoiding the still-seething gazes of her students and the Kyoto staff, and took a deep breath.
Yeah. She could handle this.
Maybe.
Suzue let out a quiet breath as she took a seat in the control room, her shoulders instinctively drawing up as the uncomfortable tension settled around her. The faculty from both schools had drifted into their own little groups, each staking out their personal space like lines drawn in the sand. Glances flickered across the room, heavy and measuring, a silence hanging in the air that felt thick and brittle all at once. The odd glares, laced with suspicion and judgment, still came her way now and then, but at least no one was openly making comments about her or the "incident" with the Sukuna vessel.
She'd just finished exchanging a few quick words with her students and had managed to reassure Yuji, who looked as eager as ever, albeit with that familiar spark of anxious energy. Before she could say anything further, though, Satoru had intervened, pulling her away with a smirk and an admonishment to stop mothering them. She'd practically gawked at him, feeling the words bubble up in her throat. "No, I just didn't want to be stuck in that room with Mei Mei and Yaga."
But now, as she took her seat, the weight of Satoru's words still lingered. He'd completely misunderstood her intentions—she didn't want to coddle the students. It was just that being around them, even in these tense situations, was infinitely better than facing the looming presence of Mei Mei's teasing gaze, Yaga's rapidly thinning patience, and Utahime's tense, wary posture, as if she were one wrong look away from throttling someone. And of course, Satoru seemed entirely too relaxed amidst the situation, almost as if he were enjoying the chaos he'd created.
Just as Suzue was beginning to find a tentative sense of calm, Hibiki's bubbly voice rang out, asking questions to any teacher who came close enough for her to corner. Utahime, Mei Mei, Satoru—no one was spared, and Suzue could only brace herself as Hibiki's curiosity careened through the room.
«Iori-sensei, why do you have that scar on your face?» Hibiki chirped, her eyes wide with interest as Utahime stiffened.
«Miss Mei Mei, why do you keep your hair over your eyes?» Mei Mei only shrugged, a faint smile on her face that suggested she found Hibiki's questions more amusing than annoying.
Finally, Hibiki's curiosity reached the inevitable. She turned to Satoru, her eyes practically alight. «Gojo-sensei, why was Kujou-san hair all messy this morning?»
Suzue's heart froze, and she forced herself not to look over, praying he wouldn't respond. But of course, that was like hoping the sun wouldn't rise.
Satoru grinned, leaning back casually as if he'd been waiting for exactly this moment. He barely paused before answering, his voice so casual it almost sounded offhanded. «Ah, well, that's because Suzue is my personal pillow,» he said, shrugging with exaggerated nonchalance, as if this were the most obvious fact in the world.
Suzue felt the heat crawl up her cheeks, fierce and unmistakable. She sank lower in her seat, half hoping she could disappear entirely. She couldn't bring herself to look at anyone, especially not with Utahime glaring, Yaga rubbing his temples in frustration, and Mei Mei smirking like this was her personal entertainment.
"Just wonderful," she thought, closing her eyes for a second. She knew Satoru didn't intend to make things harder for her, not exactly, but he wasn't doing much to stop the rumors either. If anything, he was only making them worse. But even as her face burned, she felt a reluctant, small spark of amusement. His answers, though painfully embarrassing, were vague enough to keep their colleagues guessing, which was probably better than facing the truth.
But the tension only grew as the minutes passed. Principal Gakuganji was still nowhere to be seen. She doubted his absence was accidental; most likely, he was with the Kyoto students, issuing last-minute orders to ensure that they'd leave nothing to chance. The old man hadn't even tried to hide his disgust upon realizing Yuji was alive, and something told her he'd try something during this event, and something that didn't bode well for Yuji.
'
A heated exchange between Satoru and Utahime suddenly broke the quiet of the room, and Suzue's attention was pulled to where the two were standing, facing off with the kind of intense glares that promised things were about to escalate. Utahime looked ready to throw a punch, her patience visibly fraying with each casual quip Satoru threw her way. Suzue caught a flicker of something else in Satoru's expression, though, an edge of tension beneath his smirk. And then, as if deciding it was time to rein things in, he turned to her, giving a slight nod. He needed to speak with Utahime in private.
Suzue looked back at him, eyes questioning. She wasn't thrilled at the idea of staying in this room alone, surrounded by suspicious glances and watching eyes. But Satoru's gaze held steady, that familiar unwavering confidence behind his blindfold. She swallowed, reading the silent reassurance there. "You've got this." It wasn't a question for him; it was a fact. If Satoru thought she could handle this, then… maybe she could. She managed a small nod, signaling her agreement. "I can manage."
His lips quirked, though, into a reassuring smirk, and with one last lingering look, he finally turned, Utahime grumbling as she reluctantly followed him out of the room.
Just as the door swung shut behind them, another door creaked open, and Suzue's heart sank as Principal Gakuganji entered.
He walked with purpose, each step echoing ominously as he scanned the room, his gaze locking onto her with cold precision. Satoru froze mid-step, his attention snapping back to Gakuganji.
Satoru's gaze lingered a moment longer, his usual cockiness dimmed. He took a half-step toward her, like he was about to sit down or at least say something, but then Utahime's sharp, exasperated voice cut through the room. «Are we going, or are you planning to stand there all day?»
He didn't move to leave, hovering just outside the door with a wariness that had nothing to do with his usual bravado. Suzue forced a faint smile, tilting her head in a small nod, her eyes sending a silent message. "I can handle this," she said silently, even as her stomach twisted at the thought of being left alone with Gakuganji.
Satoru's lips curved into a small, faintly approving smirk, as he stepped back. He gave a casual shrug. "All right, then", his expression seemed to say, "Destroy him" before disappearing from sight. But not before sending her a look that promised he'd be close by.
Suzue's eyes followed him until the door clicked shut behind them, leaving her alone in a room where every glance felt weighted, charged.
And, almost as if the universe had conspired against her, Gakuganji took the seat right beside her.
Suzue's spine went rigid, and she forced herself to breathe.
'
The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. She could sense him watching her, each second passing like a test of endurance. She wasn't sure if it was her own nerves or his intent, but every inch of her felt hyperaware, trapped under the weight of his silent scrutiny. It was like being back under the Zenin's roof all over again, that same feeling of being watched, evaluated, found wanting.
The screens in front of them flickered to life, displaying the expansive courtyard where the students from both schools were gathering, readying themselves for the exchange event. For a fleeting moment, Suzue thought that maybe, just maybe, they could both pretend to focus on the monitors instead of each other. But Gakuganji had no intention of letting her off the hook that easily.
The hum of the monitors filled the control room, a constant, muted backdrop as the exchange event began. Suzue's gaze flickered to the screen, her heart clenching as she watched Yuji step into the ring, poised but very much alone. The Kyoto students faced him with an intensity she recognized all too well, the same ruthless determination to snuff out what they considered a threat. It was unmistakable—and painfully obvious—that they were intent on taking him down for good.
They were here to kill him, and she knew that, perhaps, every person in this room understood that too.
Suzue gripped the edge of her chair, her knuckles white, her pulse pounding as she watched Yuji dodge and parry. She forced herself to remain calm. No one else in the room seemed willing to acknowledge the truth, as if they were all reading from the same silent script, performing their roles to maintain the fragile veneer of neutrality.
Yaga's gaze held a hint of something—concern, perhaps—but his face remained neutral, resigned. He, too, was playing his part. And she? Suzue couldn't help but feel as if she were doing the same. She understood, better than most, how the system cast aside those it deemed inconvenient, those who, like Yuji, threatened their precious order. She felt a pang of pride—Yuji was handling himself well, each movement more confident than the last. He wasn't the same boy she'd first met. He had grown, and though she couldn't be there by his side, she willed him to endure. "He'll manage," she told herself, forcing the words to settle the turmoil within.
The sound of someone clearing their throat caught her attention, and Suzue glanced to her side to see Principal Gakuganji regarding her with a steely gaze. He leaned forward, his fingers tapping slowly on the desk in front of him, his movements calculated and deliberate. «Such a promising young man.» he murmured, his voice smooth and measured, with just the faintest edge. «It's a shame the path he's… incompatible with the order we uphold. I would have thought someone in your position would understand the importance of maintaining structure, Kujou.» he said, with a touch of amusement, «The existence of that vessel—» his gaze flicked pointedly toward the monitor where Yuji continued to fend off attacks. «—compromises every foundation our world rests upon.»
Suzue tensed, the barely concealed condescension in his words cutting through her composure. She met his gaze, determined to remain respectful, if only for appearance's sake. «Some would argue that maintaining strength requires adaptability, Principal Gakuganji. Structures can change without falling.» she replied carefully, keeping her voice steady, though it was hard not to let her voice tremble with restrained frustration. «We should respect his loyalty, his commitment. He's done more for this society than most adults are willing to acknowledge.»
A faint scoff escaped Gakuganji, his expression hardening. «Respect is earned, not given, Kujou. I expected better from you. Naobito assured me that you understood your place—that you knew how to serve with dignity.» His gaze drifted over her, appraising her with a disapproving look. «He spoke so highly of you, of your potential, your loyalty to the order we uphold. And yet… here you are, advocating for those who threaten the very foundation of what keeps our world intact. A disappointment.»
Disappointment. How easy it was for people like him to throw that word around, she thought bitterly. For years, she had been nothing more than a pawn, an expendable asset under the Zenin roof, given just enough acknowledgment to keep her in line but never enough to grow beyond the limits they set for her. He spoke of potential, but to Gakuganji and men like him, her potential was worth only as much as it could be used to further their agenda. They wanted obedience, not strength; submission, not spirit. She met his gaze, fighting to keep her expression impassive, even as anger coiled within her. «Potential?» she murmured, her voice soft but laced with an edge. «I suppose that's one word for it. It's funny, though—I don't remember anyone recognizing it back then.»
He ignored the remark, his tone growing more clipped, more pointed. «You've clearly lost sight of the principles that sustain our society,» he replied, his voice carrying an edge sharper than before. «That boy out there,» he motioned subtly to Yuji on the screen, «threatens everything we've built. Allowing him to live undermines the very foundation of our world.» Gakuganji's expression hardened, a flash of annoyance crossing his face before he composed himself. «Your loyalty as a high-grade sorcerer is a concern, Kujou.» he continued, his voice lowering, his gaze icy as it swept over her. «Your choice to protect a vessel like Itadori and ally yourself with someone as reckless as Satoru Gojo speaks volumes of your priorities. He himself is the very embodiment of everything that threatens our world. He mocks tradition, defies authority, and yet you choose to associate yourself with him.» His gaze grew colder. «Letting that thing live... It will lead to ruin, mark my words.»
The accusation stung, but her resolve held firm. "Mock tradition? Defy authority?" Satoru, for all his arrogance and flaws, had done more to protect that very Jujutsu society than any of them dared to admit. He bore the weight of it, held it on his shoulders, while hypocrites like Gakuganji hid behind protocol and convention. Her fingers tightened on the edge of the seat, the anger rising within her, simmering beneath the surface as she forced herself to maintain her calm.
She took a slow breath, her tone cool and composed. «Is it really the foundation you're worried about, Principal Gakuganji? Or is it simply your own authority that you're so desperate to protect?» she replied, her voice laced with an edge, «Satoru may not abide by your traditions, but he's the one who stands between you and the threats you claim to fear. As for Yuji… he's done nothing to jeopardize our world, nothing except exist as something you don't understand.» She kept her gaze steady, refusing to look away, her defiance tempered by the quiet conviction in her voice. «If that's what you see as dangerous, maybe it's time to question what truly threatens our society.»
For a brief moment, his expression faltered, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. But his face quickly hardened, and Suzue could feel the weight of his displeasure in the coldness of his stare. «Careful, Kujou. You forget who you're speaking to.» he murmured, his voice soft but laced with venom. «You may forget your place, but I do not. The Jujutsu Society is not a place for personal indulgences or sympathies. It's built on sacrifice, on maintaining order. Those who cannot follow that order—who threaten it—have no place here.»
The words struck her like a blow, and she felt her pulse quicken, her heart pounding as a sense of unease washed over her in the form of tiny, uncontrolled sparks at her fingertips. She was suddenly, painfully aware of his intentions, of the veiled threat in his words, the accusation that lingered beneath the surface. "He knows." He probably knew about her past, about the tangled history she had tried to bury, the memories that haunted her still. It was a warning, a subtle reminder of her vulnerability, a way of reminding her of the shadows that loomed over her past.
Gakuganji's gaze turned icy, and she could sense the warning in his eyes, a subtle shift as if to remind her of her place. But Suzue was past the point of caring. She had seen enough hypocrisy, enough manipulation masked as tradition, and she was tired of being another pawn in their twisted game. The power dynamics, the constant tightrope between obedience and personal beliefs—it all felt unbearably suffocating now, a cage she refused to stay in any longer.
For a fleeting moment, fear gripped her, tightening her throat, making her hands tremble. But the fear dissipated, replaced by a surge of defiance, of anger that refused to be quelled. She had faced worse than Gakuganji, had endured more than he could ever imagine. She could feel the fire crackling softly around her, licking at the air in tiny, shimmering tendrils that barely broke the surface, only visible if you were close enough. And Gakuganji, unfortunately, was. She noticed his gaze flickering down to the tips of her fingers, where the faintest glow of heat pulsed like a warning. But he said nothing, merely raised an eyebrow. She glanced at the screen, watching Yuji dodge another strike with the ease of someone who had earned his right to live, to be free of these chains they tried so hard to bind him with.
«Is that a threat, sir?» she asked, her voice quiet but carrying an edge that left no room for doubt. She held his gaze, feeling the weight of her words settle between them, a challenge that hung in the air. The flames at her fingertips grew brighter, her control slipping just enough to make the air around her shimmer with heat.
He regarded her with a cold smile, a thin, cruel twist of his lips. «Consider it… advice,» he murmured, his voice dripping with disdain. «One that I would advise you to take to heart if you intend to survive long in this line of work.»
Her lips curved into a faint, defiant smile. The man before her was nothing more than a relic, a hollow symbol of the very traditions she had long since outgrown. The fear he had tried to instill in her, the warnings and veiled threats—none of it held the power it once did. She felt a quiet, fierce clarity settle within her, a strength that surged from the depths of her being as she held his gaze, refusing to back down. «Thank you for the advice.» she said softly, her voice calm but carrying a steely undertone. «And in return, allow me to offer a bit of advice myself.»
She leaned in slightly, her gaze unyielding, her words laced with an unwavering conviction. «If you ever consider sending someone after Yuji again,» she continued, her voice barely above a whisper, «With all due respect, sir, if you ever consider sending anyone after Yuji again, I'll take it personally.» She leaned in, her lips curved into a soft, serene smile, her gaze steady as she met his eyes. «And I'll kill you with my own hands.»
Her words were calm, almost casual, yet they carried a weight that left no room for misinterpretation. Gakuganji's composure faltered, a flicker of shock crossing his face before he masked it once more, but she had seen it—the moment of doubt, of uncertainty that belied his authority. She held his gaze, feeling a fierce pride swell within her as she asserted her place, her power, no longer willing to be just another pawn in his twisted game.
The tension was palpable, thickening the air between them until Utahime's incredulous tone filled the room, tinged with a mix of disdain and surprise, shattering the moment, the flames at her fingertips flickering out as.
«For heaven's sake, Gojo, are you… blushing?»
POV: Satoru Gojo
Satoru's mind was half on Utahime's words, half elsewhere. His mind kept wandering back to Suzue in the control room. He'd seen her hold her own before, sure, but this was different. Gakuganji was in there. The man practically oozed arrogance, and Suzue, with all her calm, might just sit there and let him chip away at her confidence. If anyone could make Suzue doubt herself, it'd be that old vulture. Sure, she'd given him that little nod, her expression calm and confident, practically screaming "I've got this." But he knew Suzue well enough to suspect that her version of "handling it" could involve one of two things: politely enduring whatever Gakuganji threw at her… or, well, setting the place on fire.
He kept a cool expression as he voiced his concerns about the sudden surge in high-grade curses—a troubling trend, given their coordination. They weren't behaving like usual, mindless curses. Instead, they moved with purpose, an unsettling imitation of human strategies, almost like they'd taken a crash course in espionage and teamwork. Someone was clearly guiding them, an unknown player hidden within their ranks.
«It's hard to see a traitor among us as a possibility,» Utahime said, eyeing him cautiously, testing the waters. «Someone who's leaking information or, worse, actively aiding them.»
«Mmm,» he hummed, pretending to think it over, though he was actually just wondering how Suzue was faring back in that snake pit of a room.
Utahime sighed, clearly frustrated by his distraction, and pressed on. «What about Kujou? Can you say, with certainty, that she's trustworthy? You sure-»
At that, Satoru snapped to attention. Utahime was watching him, an almost guilty look flashing across her face before she shrugged, as if to brush off the severity of her own words. «Look, she's from the Zenin clan, right? How much do we really know about her?»
He forced himself to chuckle, though a part of him itched to interrupt her with a firm 'no.' But Utahime's thinly veiled suspicions about Suzue? That was a step too far. Satoru had shut that down immediately, perhaps a little more forcefully than usual. «Suzue may have walked into Tokyo Jujutsu High with a mission that raises eyebrows, but she's not the one behind any of this. She'd probably feel bad just stealing someone's pen by accident.» he'd said, a faint edge to his voice. «You'll see, she's the type to earn trust, not squander it.» He'd watched Utahime's expression shift, her skepticism giving way to a reluctant nod. Not that he blamed her. After all, Suzue's initial assignment from the Zenin clan had made her an unlikely ally. But that only reinforced how vital it was for Utahime to trust Suzue. Not just for the long game Satoru was setting up, but for Suzue's own sake. Maybe Suzue's gentle nature would even resonate better with Utahime than his… approach ever had. «Trust me, you'll like her better than you'll ever like me.»
Still, he couldn't shake the concern that Suzue might, in her typical stubborn way, let her emotions get the best of her in the face of Gakuganji. Just as he was about to say something else—anything, really, to pull himself from his own growing concern—Utahime broke into his thoughts.
«Do you even hear a word I'm saying? You're too busy wondering if she's started that 'incident' yet?»
He scoffed. «Incident? Please. She's fine, probably just reminding Gakuganji how we're all on the same team. You know, in that gentle, unthreatening way of hers.»
Utahime didn't take the bait, just leveled him with a look that said I'm done with this conversation.
They'd been discussing some finer points of the mole theory. Satoru nodded along, throwing in the occasional "Hmm," "Oh?" or "No way!" just enough to keep her from realizing his mind was half elsewhere, and Utahime's patience wearing thin with each of his remarks, when she hurled a steaming cup of tea straight at him. He'd blocked it, of course, his Limitless shielding him from the splash while Utahime's eyes narrowed dangerously. That was when he decided it was time to check back on Suzue—before she had a full-scale diplomatic incident on her hands. Or worse, a meltdown thanks to Gakuganji's particular brand of jujutsu moralizing.
"She'll be fine," he reassured himself, hands in his pockets as they made their way back. "It's not like Suzue is going to start a war or anything."
But as they approached the control room door, the laugh faded, and a strange unease settled in his gut. The door was cracked open just enough to hear muffled voices from within, and as they got closer, Satoru picked out a low, steady voice… Suzue's voice.
She was mid-sentence, her tone surprisingly firm, her words clear as day even over the hum of activity from the exchange event starting up in the background.
«With all due respect, sir, if you ever consider sending anyone after Yuji again, I'll take it personally.»
Satoru froze, feeling a strange mix of surprise and… something else. Wait—did she just threaten Gakuganji? Sweet, polite Suzue who couldn't raise her voice above a murmur even if she tried? Oh, this he had to see. Pushing the door open wider, he stepped inside, just as Suzue's words continued, her tone still deceptively calm.
«And I'll kill you with my own hands.»
Satoru blinked, and his grin widened as he took in the scene. Suzue, his sweet, level-headed Suzue, was leaned forward with a dangerously serene smile, delivering the most outrageous threat with the kind of calm he'd only ever seen in his own mirror. She was staring at Gakuganji-who sat across from her looking like he'd swallowed a lemon- like she was contemplating how much effort it would take to throttle him.
"Holy hell". This side of Suzue? It was—admittedly—kind of hot. If it weren't for the fact that she was essentially threatening to incinerate one of the Jujutsu Society's most esteemed elders, Satoru would have applauded her on the spot.
And around her—oh, this was too good—tiny embers of her flames crackled, flickering like miniature fires hovering over her shoulders. He'd known she could hold her own, but this? This was an unexpected delight. Here she was, unleashing this barely-contained fire in front of some of the highest-ranking members of Jujutsu society, coolly warning Gakuganji that she'd personally end him if he touched a hair on Yuji's head. If that wasn't enough to make him a little flustered, then he didn't know what would. He could feel his face heating, much to his annoyance. "Of all times, Gojo, get a grip."
Utahime, however, seemed less impressed.
«For heaven's sake, Gojo, are you… blushing?» she whispered, looking at him like he'd sprouted another head. «Don't tell me you actually find this attractive, she's threatening the head of Kyoto Jujutsu High!»
«And doing a damn fine job of it.» he murmured, half in awe. He caught her scowl and shrugged, attempting a nonchalant expression. He grinned, barely suppressing the smug satisfaction in his voice as he leaned over to Utahime. «I mean, can you blame me? Seeing Suzue threaten to torch Gakuganji to a crisp over some kid? That's the stuff dreams are made of, I might actually cry tears of joy.»
Utahime gave him a look of utter disgust, muttering something about him needing «serious help» and «egos the size of mountains» under her breath, but Satoru wasn't listening. He watched as Suzue, seemingly aware of her own outburst, abruptly realized she'd become the center of attention. She blinked, the fire in her eyes dimming as her face flushed, the fierce stance fading as she sank back into her chair, mortification plain on her features. Mei Mei let out a snicker, Hibiki glanced at her with barely hidden amusement, and even Yaga sighed, glancing at her like a weary parent who had long since given up trying to keep track of his children's antics.
Yaga raised an eyebrow in his direction, no doubt blaming him for Suzue's uncharacteristic outburst, his look a silent command for Satoru to "Handle this before it goes any further."
"Yeah," Satoru thought with a sigh. Not that he wouldn't have stepped in anyway but he would have loved Gakuganji to suffer a bit longer.
With a lazy stroll, hands buried in his pockets, he approached Gakuganji's seat, pausing just close enough to be intrusive. He glanced down at the elderly man with a deliberately casual smile. «Ohi, old Gakuganji,» he drawled, his tone dripping with exaggerated concern, «why don't you let me take over? Wouldn't want you to get hurt if Suzue decides to go full-on inferno on us all. It'd be a shame if an… esteemed elder like you got caught in the crossfire.»
Gakuganji glared at him, a storm brewing in his eyes as he cast a disdainful glance between Satoru and Suzue. But after a tense beat, he relented, rising from the chair with a pointed grimace and retreating to sit beside Utahime, who was still eyeing Satoru with unmasked disdain.
«Nice of you to join us, sir.» Satoru commented as Gakuganji took his new seat, earning himself one last scowl from the old principal before he turned his focus back to the screens.
Satoru dropped into it, stretching his legs out with a smirk as he turned to Suzue, who still looked as red as a tomato, her gaze fixed firmly on the floor.
«You know,» he murmured, barely holding back a smirk, «when I said to go after Gakuganji, I meant in a… metaphoric sense.» He leaned closer, his voice soft but laced with amusement. «Besides, I thought you hated 'diplomatic incidents.'»
Suzue's wide-eyed, horrified expression turned slowly toward him, the realization dawning in her eyes. She looked torn between embarrassment and indignation, and for a second, he thought she might actually defend her outburst.
Instead, she dropped her head into her hands, mumbling something incoherent as she sank further into her seat.
«Look on the bright side,» he said, his tone breezy. «You're officially the most terrifying thing in the room. It's not every day you threaten one of our esteemed elders with murder. Frankly, I'm flattered. That's some top-level verbal sparring. Must've been learning from the best.» He reached over, giving her a light tap on the shoulder, grinning as he spoke. «That's my Suzue, setting diplomatic standards on fire. And hey, if Gakuganji doesn't appreciate your dedication to doing things your own way, he can find another room to sulk in.»
That earned him a faint, mortified groan from Suzue, who seemed determined to become one with the upholstery. «I… might have gotten a little carried away.»
«A little?» Satoru smirked, nudging her gently with his elbow. «You practically set the room on fire. Let's just say I'll be replaying that scene in my head for a while.»
She gave him a hard nudge in the ribs, muttering under her breath, «You're the worst.» she groaned again, burying her face in her hands as the monitors flickered on, revealing Yuji on the battlefield, holding his ground. Satoru glanced at the screen, as he watched Yuji dodge and counterattack.
Suzue, looking up, let out a slow, quiet breath, her eyes softening as she watched. The earlier tension drained from her shoulders, and Satoru noticed her lips curling into a faint smile.
«See?» he murmured. «He's strong. Doing fine.»
'
The exchange event unfolded in tense silence, everyone's focus locked on the screens displaying the students' progress. Satoru leaned back, maintaining his usual air of indifference, though his gaze was sharp, every sense attuned to his students' movements. He watched Yuji dodge a particularly brutal strike, countering with a speed and precision that had Satoru grinning. Pride flickered through him as he noted how each of them—Yuji, Megumi, Nobara—seemed to have blossomed, their growth evident in the way they handled the high-stakes fight. But the quiet satisfaction was short-lived.
Then, without warning, a surge of light and heat filled the room. One by one, the talismans monitoring each cursed spirit's presence on the battlefield began to burn, fire igniting in sync with unnatural intensity. Every single talisman—destroyed in an instant, as if a wave of power had obliterated them all at once.
A heavy silence blanketed the room, and Satoru's mind spun into overdrive. He snapped his gaze to the screens, now filled with static, his thoughts slicing through every possibility with ruthless speed.
What the hell just happened?
Satoru barely needed to glance around the room to sense the collective shock of everyone present, their expressions mirroring his own guarded alarm. It was instinct that drew his attention to Suzue, standing just a few feet away, her gaze lingering on the scorched remains of the talismans, brows knit in thought. To anyone else, her silence might look like uncertainty, hesitation even. But Satoru knew better. She wasn't simply processing the shock—her mind was deep in analysis. He could tell she was piecing something together, inch by inch, letting her instincts guide her. The silence grew thick, and he felt a pang of frustration at not being able to interpret her silence. Was it worry? Insight?
"Just what's running through that pretty head of hers?"
Satoru's voice cut through the silence, an exaggerated grin masking his unease. «Must be my students.» he joked, his tone light and lazy, though his eyes were anything but. «They're pretty exceptional, after all. Wouldn't expect anything less from a teacher like me, right?»
But even as the words left his mouth, his mind dissected the scene with brutal clarity. No way his students could have wiped out every single curse in one coordinated strike. And an intruder? That was theoretically impossible with Tengen's barrier in place—no one, not even the most powerful curse, could bypass that level of security without them noticing. Yet, here they were, staring at the charred remnants of every monitoring talisman.
A few eyebrows lifted in response to his arrogance, but Mei Mei's calm, assessing voice soon interrupted. «None of my crows have spotted anything unusual,» she commented, her tone laced with her usual air of detached professionalism, though her gaze betrayed a flicker of suspicion. «Nothing to suggest an external force. But that doesn't mean there isn't one.»
Satoru felt the weight of her words. The idea of someone—or something—that could neutralize every curse simultaneously without triggering a single alarm was almost unthinkable. But that was precisely the problem: if such an unknown entity existed, then they were dealing with an opponent who knew their defenses, perhaps even better than they did. His mind whirred through scenarios, each as unsettling as the last. Could it be a breach? No, Tengen's barrier would have detected it. But if Tengen's barrier had somehow been compromised… No, impossible.
Beside him, Suzue remained absorbed, her expression unreadable, though Satoru could tell her mind was churning through the same questions. Suzue was brilliant in her own way—thoughtful, quiet, but sharp as a razor, despite her self-doubt. And he could almost feel her mind racing, threads of thought connecting and intersecting, her brows knit as she waded through each possibility. Whatever was turning in that mind of hers, he'd have to pull it out sooner rather than later.
«I'll go see Tengen myself.» Yaga announced, his tone leaving no room for debate. He swept his gaze across the room, eyes sharp and resolute. «Satoru, Principal Gakuganji, Utahime, Kujou—you four head to the students. Mei Mei, you stay here and monitor. Keep us updated on any changes.»
«Compensation.» Mei Mei remarked without a beat, an amused glint in her eye. The usual indifference was laced with a touch of anticipation, the perfect shield for someone who clearly relished the leverage she now held.
Satoru's brow lifted as he caught the faintest twitch of annoyance in Yaga's expression. The resigned mutter of "extortionist" was barely audible, but it didn't escape Satoru's ears, and he smirked as Mei Mei inclined her head with satisfaction. Hibiki practically glowed with delight as she accepted her role as Mei Mei's makeshift assistant.
«You,» Yaga directed at Hibiki, «keep Mei Mei's tea topped off. Make sure she's comfortable and do not promise her more money.»
«Yes, sir!» Hibiki chirped, practically skipping to her post, her face alight with the importance of her task.
Satoru let out a quick breath, exchanging a glance with Utahime as she looked resolute, clearly braced for whatever awaited them. But as his gaze returned to Suzue, he noted the lingering thoughtfulness in her expression. Her eyes remained fixed on the empty screens, her focus drifting somewhere far beyond the present.
Even as Yaga, Utahime, and Gakuganji moved out ahead, Satoru lingered a step behind, watching Suzue with growing curiosity. Her fingers twitched faintly at her sides, her gaze focused but distant, as if she were on the cusp of understanding something crucial. Her red eyes, usually so reserved, held a glimmer of something he couldn't quite place—a quiet urgency, perhaps. He'd always trusted her instincts, that meticulous way she pieced together connections where others saw none. And he knew her well enough to sense when something was brewing in that mind of hers.
They slipped into the hallway, Yaga striding ahead with purpose, Utahime and Gakuganji in their own focused silence, but Satoru stayed back a few paces, watching Suzue closely. She was walking, yet there was a distance in her eyes, her mind still in that focused, silent calculation. Every now and then, her fingers twitched slightly at her sides, her lips pressing into an even tighter line as if fighting down thoughts she couldn't quite articulate. And judging by the little furrow in her brow, whatever she was thinking wasn't trivial. He'd always trusted her instincts, her uncanny ability to see patterns others missed. So, what was she seeing now?
Finally, Satoru couldn't hold back any longer, his curiosity got the better of him. He nudged her arm, his tone light but pointed, just as they stepped into the hall. Her head turned, and their eyes met. Suzue blinked, the faintest trace of surprise in her eyes, and for a moment, he thought he saw her deliberating, weighing whether to voice whatever was on her mind.
«Oi, Suzue. If you've got an idea, now's the time to spill it.»
A/N
Hello readers! Welcome back for Chapter 31!
This chapter took a little different turn, didn't it? Not so much action as it is "politics"—Our girl needed this moment to affirm her place in the jujutsu society—a place she's worked so hard to claim for herself. She's got the fire (literally!) and, now, the courage to stand up to figures like Gakuganji, who see her as a mere pawn. Watching her push back against tradition and openly challenge authority feels like a big win for her character!
And of course, we can't forget our chaotic favorite, Satoru Gojo. He's thrilled—if not a little too thrilled.
Anyway don't worry, I've got you covered—next chapter, we're diving right into some intense action! Honestly, I'm always a bit nervous writing those big fight scenes, so any feedback on them is always hugely appreciated. (*T-T)b
Hope you all enjoy it and that Suzue's journey keeps you as excited as it does me!
Thank you all for sticking with me! Take care and see you in the next chapter!