Chapter Text
Bright midday sun bathed the rooftop of Jujutsu High in white-hot light.
Gojo flopped onto the concrete, lounging against the low parapet while Suguru leaned on the chain-link fence, arms folded.
Satoru yawned.
"Another cursed spirit exorcised, another demonstration of my unrivaled awesomeness. Kinda boring, huh?"
"You say boring- I say peaceful." Suguru’s tone was dry. "Some of us appreciate a quiet campus you know."
Gojo tilted his head. "Peaceful? We just leveled half a warehouse. You’re welcome, by the way."
Suguru shot him a mock glower. "I handled the swarm while you chased the shiny one. Typical."
Gojo shrugged. "Flashy curses match my vibe. Besides, you love cleaning up after me—admit it."
A chuckle. "Hardly. I’m just saving the repair budget from your ego."
Wind rattled the fence. For a moment, the rooftop was quiet.
Satoru broke the silence, peering up from behind his shades.
"Ever think about life after Jujutsu High? We’ll be even more unstoppable than we are now, might just have to make a super-special grade class for us."
"Power isn’t the point," Suguru said, eyes following a group of first-years below. "It’s how we use it."
"Yeah, yeah—protect the weak, maintain balance. Still gonna be fun."
Suguru’s gaze lingered on the students. "Fun for you. I’m more interested in ending the cycle altogether."
Gojo grinned. "Deep thoughts for a teenager. Smile more—ups your cool factor by at least twenty-five percent."
"That a scientific fact?"
"Gojo fact. Strongest fact there is."
Suguru’s competitive spark lit. He straightened, raising an index finger.
"Fine. Training bout tomorrow. If you beat me without Limitless, dinner’s on me."
"Deal. And when I win, we hit the pricey curry place."
"Confident, aren’t you?"
"Always. Genius is such a burden." Gojo sighed theatrically, stretched, then trotted toward the stairwell.
"Remember—no Infinity!" Suguru scowled.
"Yup, because it’s ‘cheating’. Still gonna wipe the floor with you."
"We’ll see."
The door slammed shut behind them.
And the world cracked.
Light bled away. Cold seeped in. Everything dulled.
A voice—unfamiliar, yet colder than the sensation that hits him—echoed in the void...
"Save him."
Satoru jolted awake in the carriage. A faint redness rimmed his eyes before his sunglasses slid back into place. He stared at the wooden ceiling, heart hammering.
Damn it…
He exhaled shakily.
"Suguru… hope you’re doing okay without me."
Gojo leaned forward, raking a hand through his hair before turning to watch blurred trunks and emerald leaves slip past the window.
I’ve tried not to fixate on it, but… there has to be a way back to Earth. Whoever—or whatever—yanked me into this world had the juice to move me across dimensions. That means a return trip should be possible.
He slumped in the seat, eyes on the carriage ceiling.
"But how…?"
A ripple of mana—faint, scattered—skimmed the edge of his Six Eyes.
Unfamiliar signatures. Dozens of them.
Gojo sat up, a slow grin creeping across his face.
"Bandits, huh? Talk about unlucky." He cracked his knuckles. "They’ve chosen the single worst carriage on the planet."
Outside, both the ground dragon and the driver remained oblivious as shapes flitted between the trees, sitting in preparation and unsheathing rust-flecked swords and axes.
Gojo tapped the window frame, casual as ever.
"Guess I was getting bored anyway."
With that, he reached for the door handle—ready to greet his would-be assailants with the warmest- and shortest lesson they’d ever receive.
"Roswaal-sama informed me about a guest arriving from the Astrea Estate. So try not to do anything stupid, Barusu."
The flat tone of Ram’s voice didn’t waver in the slightest as she dusted off a nearby table.
Subaru recoiled dramatically, one hand clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded.
"A guest from the Astrea Estate?! Wait—don’t tell me Reinhard’s coming here?”
He leaned forward, brow furrowing. "Also, what do you mean ‘don’t be stu—’"
"No." Ram cut him off without even looking in his direction.
"The Sword Saint himself informed Roswaal-sama about the guest. Not that he was the guest. He only mentioned treating him with the same level of respect as Emilia-sama."
Subaru blinked, straightening slowly.
"That’s... kind of a big deal, isn’t it?"
Ram offered only a noncommittal shrug.
Subaru puffed out his chest with a grin, raising one arm in a confident pose.
"Well, you don’t have to worry about me! I’ll show this mystery guest what it really means to be a top-tier Roswaal butler!"
Ram slowly lowered the rag she’d been using to wipe the table, expression unchanging.
"The standards have truly collapsed."
"Eh?!" Subaru’s arm dropped as his smile twitched.
"You didn’t even wait a second to roast me!"
Ram straightened, arms dropping neatly to her sides as she turned toward the sharp-eyed boy.
"Regardless, you’ll be greeting the guest alongside myself and sister."
Later, at the Roswaal Manor entrance...
The low rumble of carriage wheels echoed faintly, rolling across the cobblestone path outside the grand estate before coming to a gradual stop.
Subaru stood in the entry hall, glancing toward the towering double doors.
I wonder who this guest is...
Must be someone important if even Reinhard went out of his way to notify Roswaal.
The entrance was as lavish as ever—ornate golden chandeliers swayed gently overhead, casting intricate patterns across polished floors. Two ivory-white pillars rose from floor to ceiling, framing the hall like something out of a royal painting.
Subaru adjusted his posture, standing squarely before the grand doors. On either side, Ram and Rem took their positions.
Without a word, the twin maids moved in flawless synchrony, pushing open the towering wooden doors. A flood of sunlight poured in, brighter and more blinding than even the stained-glass windows above.
And through that light, a tall silhouette slowly stepped forward.
Satoru's POV
Satoru stepped through the doorway, letting out a low, appreciative whistle as his eyes roamed the lavish interior of the Roswaal estate.
Damn... this Roswaal guy’s loaded.
The golden light streaming through stained glass danced across the polished floors, reflecting off intricate woodwork and chandelier crystals with a regal flair.
Then, movement. Two maids stood side by side, heads bowed, their synchronized voices calm and formal.
"Welcome, esteemed guest."
Pink and blue hair. Identical uniforms.
Huh. Twin maids.
Guess my gorgeous white hair’s not so rare around here after all... not that that makes me any less of a showstopper.
He gave a casual wave. "Yo."
But his attention quickly drifted—not to the surroundings, nor the maids—but to the figure standing just behind them.
A black-haired boy in a sharp, black butler’s uniform. Awkward posture, wide eyes from recognizing him, And—
"Ah..."
Satoru’s smirk widened slightly behind the shadow of his sunglasses.
There it is. That cursed energy...
Overflowing, raw, and completely untamed. Hell, he’s got more of it than I do—not that it means anything to me. I cant exactly run out.
He slid his hands into his pockets and took a few steps forward.
The maids led Satoru through the grand hallway, each step echoing lightly off the marble floor beneath ornate ceilings and gilded fixtures. The estate screamed nobility—but he barely glanced at the luxury. His hands remained tucked in his pockets, sunglasses still perfectly in place, his expression unreadable.
Eventually, they came to a large set of double doors, which opened into a lavish dining room. A long table stretched across the space, lined with fine chairs and glinting silverware, like it was set for a royal banquet.
At the far end of the table, seated with elegance and an unsettling stillness, was a man in a flamboyant outfit—white face makeup, eccentric eyeshadow, a twisted smile, and mismatched colors.
Is that... a clown?
No way. Did they seriously set up a comedy show just for me? Now that’s hospitality...
Before the thought could spiral into something worse, the blue-haired maid stepped forward.
“Our esteemed guest has arrived, Roswaal-sama.”
Satoru blinked.
Ah. So this is Roswaal...
Good thing I didn’t say that clown comment out loud. Would’ve been awkward. Though seriously—who thinks something like that and says it?
"Aaaaahh... Greeeetings, Gojo-sama. Or would you perhaps prefeeer, Satoru-sama?"
Satoru blinked as he took his seat, momentarily caught off guard by Roswaal's theatrical tone.
"Satoru's definitely fine," he replied smoothly, reclining just slightly in his chair, still scanning the room with casual interest.
Aside from the two maids flanking Roswaal like twin statues, everyone else was seated quietly. That is—until another familiar face entered.
Long silver hair. White and purple outfit. That girl from before. As soon as she arrived, the blue-haired maid stepped aside.
"Oh! It's you!" Emilia blurted out, louder than she probably meant to. Her eyes widened for a moment before she flustered, quickly taking her seat.
Satoru’s trademark smirk remained firmly in place.
"Yup. Satoru Gojo, in the flesh. Long time no see."
Subaru, seated next to Emilia, leaned forward, brows knit as something seemed to click.
"Wait... 'Sama'-?"
Roswaal answered with a playful, drawn-out lilt.
"Why yeeeees... Subaru... It is oooonly natural to give respeeect to someone of higher claaaaaass... yes?"
Subaru’s eyes narrowed. His tone shifted, weirdly serious.
"This has totally happened before..."
He paused dramatically.
"Alright, lemme guess... Is he like Emilia-tan?! Another royal candidate?"
"That I am," Satoru answered casually with a nod.
Roswaal chimed in again, smile never quite reaching his eyes.
"Yeeeees... He is the fifth and fiiiiinal candidate for the throne..."
Satoru leaned back, arms crossed loosely as he watched the odd man with quiet scrutiny.
I'm probably being paranoid... but this guy gives me serious bad vibes. It's like when no one’s told me anything, but I just know I’ve somehow pissed off Yaga and he’s gonna jump me from the shadows with an expression that makes him look like a curse.
.. Man..
He let out a quiet breath, catching himself as his thoughts started to wander off track again.
Just as he refocused, the blue-haired maid—Rem—returned, carrying plates in each hand. With practiced grace, she placed them before each person, then stepped back into position beside Ram.
Roswaal’s voice soon followed, smooth and strange as ever.
"Not thaaaat I mind in the sliiiiighest... Satoru-sama... but is there a particular reaaaason you’ve graced my estate todaaaay?" His smile was wide, eyes—two different colors—gleaming like gemstones caught in moonlight.
Satoru sat upright, grin returning, and pointed the prongs of his fork toward Subaru without hesitation.
"That there is, wise guy. And it’s sitting riiight over there."
Subaru blinked, visibly startled.
"W–Wait... me? For what?!"
Emilia leaned slightly forward, brows gently furrowed.
"...I’m not exactly willing to give Subaru to another royal candidate.."
Gojo let out a light chuckle, lowering his fork and gesturing casually.
"Relax, I’m not asking for him to join my camp or anything. It’s just..." He tilted his head thoughtfully.
"He’s got something in him. Something seriously interesting. Like... seriously seriously so."
Subaru looked confused at first. Then, as if realizing something amazing, his entire face lit up.
He leaned back in his chair, throwing on a cocky smirk.
"Heh... you hear that, guys? I am special!"
Ram sighed audibly.
"Our esteemed guest may have seen wrong."
Roswaal, still smiling, gave a soft chuckle that sounded half-genuine, half... something else.
"Is thaaaaaaaat so... and what might this... entail?"
Roswaal’s voice hung in the air like incense—pleasant but cloying. He delicately lifted a piece of meat to his lips, chewing slowly as silence settled over the room.
Gojo leaned back, completely unfazed.
"Simple. He gets stronger. Alot stronger." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
"I know what you're thinking—why would I help a guy from a rival camp? And the answer’s easy- I don’t care."
He clicked his tongue, eyes shaded by the reflection of his glasses.
"This whole royal candidate thing? It’s just something I got thrown into. Whatever that crusty old dragon saw in me—cool, I guess. But I didn’t ask for it."
He waved his fork loosely toward Subaru.
"That guy, though? He’s got something inside him. Something that doesn’t belong in this world." A grin curled at the corner of his lips. "Something like mine."
Subaru looked stunned, hand rising to his chest.
"W–Wait... you’re saying you see potential in me? Like real, kick-ass, 'battle-anime protagonist' potential?!"
Gojo gave him a slow nod.
"If you’re willing to put in the work. It’ll be painful. Not that fake training arc stuff."
He leaned forward, index finger tapping the table.
"But if you can handle it... yeah. You’ll be able to stand on your own. Not just as Emilia’s butler or knight or whatever..."
A pause. "...but as someone who can protect what matters to you, properly."
Subaru blinked. Then grinned.
"Heh... You’re on, Satoru dude!"
Emilia looked concerned.
"Subaru..."
Satoru raised a hand casually.
"Hey, I’m not getting him killed or anything. Probably."
Roswaal chuckled softly, his eyes glinting.
"Ohhh... I think this could be very entertaining indeed..."
"Shall I take that as your permission, Roswaal?"
Gojo’s tone was light, but there was a glint of seriousness behind his sunglasses. His smirk lingered, fork now resting against his plate.
Roswaal dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin, smiling wide.
"Whyyyy... yeeeees, of course." His words stretched like ribbon across the room.
"If training Subaru enhances Emilia-sama’s chaaaances at the throooone... then by all means, do proceed."
Subaru blinked.
"Wait, seriously? That was all it took? I thought I’d have to, like, sign a contract in blood or something."
"Uh. Yeah nah, I’m not like—some vampire or cultist or whatever." Satoru waved a hand dismissively as he stood. "Anyway."
He clapped his hands once, sharp and eager. "Food was nice, but let’s get right to it. Subaru."
Without giving the boy a second to process it, Gojo casually walked around the table and placed a firm hand on Subaru’s shoulder—
In the Garden.
In a blink—no wind-up, no warning—the two were gone. The space around them twisted, colors smeared, and reality reassembled in a blink. They now stood out in a wide, open field behind the Roswaal estate—lined with trimmed hedges and elegant flower beds, a far cry from the chaos that had just taken place inside Subaru’s head.
Subaru stumbled back, eyes wide.
"HUH?! What the hell?! How did we get out here?!"
Gojo grinned down at him, hands in his pockets.
"Just a lil' trick of mine. Don't worry about it." His tone shifted slightly—still casual, but with an undercurrent of seriousness.
"But this isn’t about me or what I can do."
He took a step closer, lowering his sunglasses slightly to peer at Subaru more directly.
"Subaru Natsuki. You’re from Earth, right? Japan—judging by the name?"
Subaru blinked, caught off guard by the question’s precision.
"Y-Yeah… I am. Wait, are you—?"
Gojo nodded confidently.
Subaru stared in disbelief.
"Eh…?! Then why are you already, like—totally badass?! Did you get gifted an Excalibur or something?! 'Cause I’ve been waiting for that kind of treatment!"
Gojo laughed. "Hah! Nah, nothing like that. I’ve had these powers since Earth."
He pointed to himself with his thumb, flashing a grin.
"Which brings us to today’s first lesson—about Cursed Energy!"
Subaru tilted his head, blinking. "…Cursed what now?"
Gojo clapped once, suddenly energized like a teacher ready to hijack the chalkboard.
"Cursed Energy, Natsuki Subaru, is the power born from Earth’s negative emotions—fear, hatred, anger, sadness. All that nasty stuff leaks into the world and creates cursed spirits—monsters, basically."
He raised a finger. "That’s where people like us come in. Jujutsu Sorcerers. We exorcise those spirits using Cursed Energy as our power source."
He stepped forward, eyes gleaming behind his sunglasses.
"So forget about mana, MP, and all that fantasy RPG stuff. Cursed Energy is way cooler."
Subaru blinked again, his mouth half open. "...That’s… actually kinda metal."
Gojo leaned in closer, voice dropping just a little.
"And here’s the kicker—you’ve got a ton of it. More than me infact, Just sitting there. Wasted. Like a nuke with no launch codes.. or a playstation with no power cable."
Subaru recoiled. "Wait, I have cursed energy?"
Gojo nodded.
"More than everyone I've seen. Way more. So now you see why I’m interested, yeah?"
He flicked Subaru on the forehead playfully. His brows furrowed.
"Cursed Spirits… Wait—so you’re telling me I’m not insane?!"
Subaru pointed to himself, eyes wide.
"I always thought I was crazy back when I was a kid… y’know, with those creepy things floating and crawling around!"
Gojo chuckled. "Yeah, that’s pretty much the textbook way we find out someone’s a sorcerer. ‘Hey, can you see that freaky monster thing that nobody else can?’ Boom. Welcome to the club."
Subaru suddenly lit up, bouncing slightly. "So does this mean I’ll be able to, like—shoot out Kamehamehas?! Or Getsuga Tenshos?! Janken Rock?!"
Gojo's smirk faltered a little.
"Oh, uh... yeah no. Sorry to crush the anime dreams, but it doesn’t really work like that."
He rubbed the back of his head. "You don’t seem to have a Cursed Technique. If you did, it’d feel like an extra limb—instinctual, something you’d already be using without even thinking by now."
Subaru looked devastated. He slumped, eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
Gojo quickly raised a hand.
"Whoa there, don’t go crying on me yet—save that for after the training starts."
His smile returned, now a bit more serious.
"You don’t even realize how blessed you are. You’re looking at me, Satoru Gojo, the pinnacle of Jujutsu Sorcery—the strongest sorcerer alive."
He pointed at Subaru.
“And you? You’ve got more cursed energy than I do."
He paused, sunglasses glinting.
...Granted, you’d still run out like a billion years before I ever would, but still.
Subaru’s expression shifted. His gaze sharpened, bitter and incredulous.
"You’ve just got it all, huh?"
He looked away, a small huff escaping his lips.
"The world really isn’t fair."
Gojo smirked, hands in his pockets.
"Nope. But you can gladly go around saying you’re the ‘second strongest sorcerer’ in the world."
Gojo gave a playful wink, his smirk practically dripping with arrogance.
"Great!" Subaru pumped a fist—then paused, expression flat.
"…But there’s only two of us, right?"
Satoru tilted his head, pretending to think deeply.
"Mmm… Technicalities."
Subaru groaned. "So I’m the strongest loser. Got it."
Gojo clapped his hands once, the sound echoing sharply in the open field.
"Alright! Enough talk." His sunglasses gleamed as he took a few steps back.
"Let’s begin then."