Chapter Text
Located at the edge of Jujutsu High's grounds, the Jujutsu High Lounge B was a distinct departure from the traditional and minimalist design that comprised the rest of the campus, instead going for a more luxurious approach. The floors were covered in a lush carpet, the sprawling couches cost more than the average car, and the espresso machine on the counter was top-of-the-line. The lounge wouldn't have looked out of place had it been in a five star international hotel, and though it technically was open to all jujutsu sorcerers, it was an unspoken rule that only Gojo Satoru and those associated with him were allowed inside.
Apparently, the entire room had been funded by one of Gojo's overseas trips to Las Vegas. Incidentally, if one were to travel to several well-known casinos in that city, they would be able to see Gojo's smug face grinning back at them from the lists of blacklisted individuals for undisclosed reasons.
It went without saying that Lounge B stood as an object of scorn for the sorcerers who looked down on material wealth and envy for the rest. However, all the opulence in the world couldn't distract from the tense, uncomfortable atmosphere currently pervading the room.
"I'm still assessing the full scope of the damages," Ijichi said, the stress lines on his face seeming more pronounced than ever, "but preliminary findings reveal that in his heist, Kakashi was able to make off with..."
Despite having memorized every word of his report, he still looked down at it in a vain hope that maybe, just maybe the letters had magically changed in the past few minutes.
No such luck. He swallowed.
"Several special-grade cursed tools. A handful of forbidden scrolls. The blueprints to both Jujutsu High campuses. Approximately ten pounds – fifty million yen's worth – of unmarked gold bars." Each item named felt like the heavy strike of an executioner's axe. "Furthermore, while I cannot determine how much of our archives he read through, I think it is safe to assume that he likely knows the identities and techniques of every Jujutsu High jujutsu sorcerer we have on file, as well as every mission we have taken in the past twelve years." Ijichi paused. "And he stole my lunch. I don't know why he did it, or how he even knew it was mine, but it was missing when I went to go get it."
"Ah," Gojo raised a finger from where he was sprawled on the couch. He didn't seem to be bothered by Ijichi's words at all, and indeed he seemed to be almost amused by them. "Sorry, that one was me. You were taking too long earlier, and I got hungry."
"Oh you've got to be kidding–" Ijichi cut himself off. "Whatever. Whatever, I don't care. In any case, this event stands as one of the most catastrophic tactical failures in Jujutsu High's history. Never before has our security been this thoroughly compromised. And we're the ones responsible for it."
He gripped his head with one hand, no doubt trying to stave off the inevitable migraine. "Oh god, we messed up. They're going to use us as an example in future classes. We're going to end up on the godforsaken curriculum."
"Hey, relax, you're getting ahead of yourself," Gojo said. "Now, I admit that the situation might be a little suboptimal, but I think that if you look at this from another angle, you'll see that things aren't actually that bad."
"Another angle?" Nanami repeated, sounding incredulous. The entire time Ijichi had been delivering the incident report, he had been leaning against the wall, a stony look on his face. "Gojo, I realize your Six Eyes may grant you the ability to look at things from a perspective that the rest of us cannot physically perceive, but even you cannot possibly think this situation is anything but an utter disaster."
"Aww, come on. Don't you think you're being a little too cynical here?"
"My level of cynicism is perfectly appropriate for this situation." Nanami narrowed his eyes. "Especially since we're only in this mess because of you."
Gojo drew back, aghast. "Excuse me? Are you implying that this is my fault?"
"I'm not implying anything. I'm stating it outright."
"Nanami! How could you say such a thing?" Gojo sounded genuinely hurt, his hand clasped over his heart.
"Quite easily," Nanami said, completely immune to Gojo's feigned victimhood. "Kakashi was only able to do all of this because someone decided they needed to get snacks."
Gojo coughed. "I... You can't blame me for that. My blood sugar was getting low."
"You couldn't just deal with it?"
"I'm diabetic! It was a medical emergency!"
Nanami stared at him flatly. "No, you're not."
"I so am," Gojo countered. "In fact, I don't believe you are complying with Jujutsu High's newest anti-discrimination policies. Do you want me to bring this up to HR?"
"One, we don't have an HR department; two, even if we did, HR can kiss my ass," Nanami growled. "But that's beside the point – you don't have diabetes."
"I do."
"Yeah?" Nanami raised an eyebrow. "Prove it."
"What? How?"
Nanami reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small plastic jar. He set it down on the coffee table in front of Gojo. "Piss."
Gojo stared at Nanami. "...what?"
"You heard me."
"Why do you just have that with you...?"
Nanami didn't respond, instead crossing his arms.
"You can't be serious. You want me to do a field urine test? Right here? Right now?"
"Right here." Nanami's expression could've been carved from stone, hard and unforgiving as it was. "Right now."
Several seconds passed. Gojo folded first.
"Alright, fine. But c'mon, I only left the room for, like, two minutes! How was I supposed to know he would regain consciousness so quickly, much less be able to bypass the security measures? You saw how secure the sealing chamber was!"
"Standard procedure says you never ever leave a prisoner unattended!" Nanami said. "Not to mention he's your countercurse, of course he'd be slippery enough to escape." He sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. "What a mess. If you had just called me in to stand guard while you took your 'break', we wouldn't even be in this situation."
"You know there's no way I could've allowed that."
"Why not? Because you didn't want to share your new toy?"
"No, because I didn't think it was a good idea to leave Kakashi in a room alone with someone who wanted to torture him."
"What on earth are you talking about?" Nanami frowned. "You do realize I was exaggerating when I said we were to be torture specialists, right? I wasn't actually planning on torturing him."
Gojo pulled down his blindfold and stared at Nanami with his Six Eyes. "Is that so? Empty your pockets."
"Don't change the subject."
"Empty your pockets, Nanami."
"Why should I."
"Nanami."
"No."
"Too bad," Gojo said and snapped his fingers, a blue aura flickering to life around his hand. Nanami made an aborted movement, but it was too late. Several objects immediately flew out of Nanami's pockets and into Gojo's open palm: a pair of pliers, a couple rusty screws, thumbtacks, and a packet of matches. Ijichi looked at the items with wide eyes before turning to stare at Nanami. Though Nanami's expression remained as stoic as ever, the aura he exuded suddenly became very, very awkward.
"So," Gojo grinned. "You were saying?"
"..."
"..."
"We need to figure out what our next move should be," Nanami said, resolutely ignoring Gojo's smug expression. "Loathe as I am to admit it, Kakashi has been running circles around us this entire time. We have no way of tracking him down and no way to predict what he's going to do next. He's humiliating us. Kakashi might as well be going up against a bunch of farmers for all the resistance we're putting up against him."
"Heh," Gojo chuckled. "Good one."
Nanami stared at him blankly.
"Because his name means scarecrow..." Gojo trailed off. "Never mind. Anyhow..." His gaze grew pensive. "There's not much we can do. His skills at stealth and evasion are frankly absurd. After he escaped, I spent over an hour trying to track him down to no avail."
"But how?" Ijichi asked. "He must've left behind at least some residuals. While they were too minute for me or Nanami to detect, surely you could perceive them with your Six Eyes."
"Yeah," Gojo said. "I did. I followed his residuals for twenty kilometers – until the trail suddenly went cold without warning, and I found myself having to explain why I had just barged into a high school women's locker room."
Nanami choked on air and Ijichi spluttered. "What?!"
"Don't ask," Gojo said, his expression wooden. "If I end up on any lists, just know that I'm innocent. Anyway... After that, I retraced my steps and found a few other trails, but they also all turned out to be wild goose chases. It's like Kakashi disappeared into thin air."
"How irritating," Nanami said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I assume that after what happened at the bookstore, Kakashi will be on guard against mundane attempts at locating him as well." A vein in his forehead pulsed. "How frustrating."
"Yeah," Gojo said. "Ah well. We're lucky that Kakashi only stole some stuff. It could've been much worse."
Ijichi made some indiscernible sound in his throat that sounded suspiciously like fuck you Gojo.
"I don't know, Gojo," Nanami said. "Kakashi was powerful enough already. Now, he's armed with several special grade cursed tools plus knowledge on our personnel files."
"Eh, who cares about that. The only cursed tools that matter are the black ropes and the inverted spear of heaven – and I already took care of them both. It doesn't matter what Kakashi is armed with." He flashed a carefree grin. "I'll crush him either way."
After a moment, Nanami inclined his head. "Very well."
"There's just one more thing," Ijichi spoke up, sounding hesitant. "I didn't mention this earlier, but... during my investigation, I examined the archives where our records are stored. Kakashi was oddly respectful; while he had obviously broken in and read the files, he placed them all back into their correct spots. I didn't find any files missing – except for one file on a single jujutsu sorcerer."
Gojo chuckled. "Let me guess. Mine?"
"No," Ijichi said. "He took Geto Suguru's."
Gojo's expression went completely blank. His cursed energy flickered. Nanami tensed up and Ijichi was already bracing himself.
"Oh," Gojo said softly. "I see."
A silence fell over the room, the other two not daring to say anything.
"That doesn't make much sense," Gojo said at last. "Su– Geto's dead. Why would Kakashi take his file?"
"I have no clue," Ijichi said. "I just thought you should know."
Gojo nodded. "Fair enough. Thank you, Ijichi." And, for once, he sounded completely sincere when he said it. "At any rate... Unless we can somehow convince the Americans to lend us their spy satellites, I don't think we'll have much luck in tracking down Kakashi."
Nanami snorted. "I doubt even you can persuade them to help. Well, if we can't find Kakashi, then we'll have no choice but to wait for him to come to us. Assuming he doesn't just go into hiding."
"Yeah, no, not a chance in hell. I know his type. He's not one to hide in a hole somewhere. Trust me, he'll be back." Gojo smiled. "He's my curse, after all."
"Please stop sounding so pleased about that," said Nanami.
"You're just jealous I have a countercurse and you don't."
"I'll speak to Tengen-sama about beefing up our defenses," Ijichi said, pushing up his glasses as he began to jot down some notes. "If you're so sure Kakashi will be back, then it can't hurt to be more prepared. Perhaps Tengen-sama will be able to set up some sort of a barrier trap..." A notification sounded from his phone, which he checked. He paled. "Oh no."
"What's wrong?" Nanami asked.
"Well," Ijichi's eyes flickered back and forth nervously. "You have to understand... I tried to cover up the break-in, I really did, but... Kakashi stole some very important things. Things that belonged to the clans. It was impossible to keep everything a secret. I know you wanted to keep this to only us three, but... The higher-ups found out what happened, Gojo. And they want an explanation."
Gojo groaned. "Fuck me. You mean I have to deal with those fossils again?"
"No, I'd managed to hide our involvement in the whole thing. For once, they're not blaming you for what happened."
"Oh. Everything's fine then, no?"
"Not exactly," Ijichi said. "They're blaming Principal Yaga."
"Oh shit," Gojo said thoughtfully. "He's totally going to kill us." He ignored Nanami's muttered 'kill you, you mean'.
"It appears they're holding him responsible for everything," Ijichi said, rapidly tapping on his phone. "He's been in an emergency meeting with the higher-ups for the past hour trying to sort out this mess."
"Ah. How is it going?"
Ijichi swallowed. "Considering how I just received a text from him that reads 'code black, sos, send g.s. asap, not a drill'?" He showed them the screen. "I'd say it's going pretty damn bad."
There was a moment of shocked silence.
"The principal… asked… for Gojo?" Nanami asked, raw worry flashing across his face. "He willingly requested Gojo's presence in a meeting with the higher-ups?!"
"Huh," Gojo said, his expression unreadable. "They must be shafting him pretty hard if it's a code black." He was silent for a moment. Then, with a sharp clap against his thighs, he stood up. "Well, if the principal is asking me for help, then I'd hate to disappoint. I should go."
"Please don't kill anyone," Ijichi pleaded after him.
"No promises. I've been waiting ten years for this day," Gojo stopped at the door and turned back to look at them. Ijichi felt his stomach clench at the wild, terrifying smile stretched across Gojo's face.
"I might get a little overexcited, but I'll try my best to control myself – oh who am I kidding. Just make sure to have a dustpan ready just in case."
"I hate it when you say things like that," Ijichi said miserably. "I truly, sincerely do."
[-∞,∞]
Contrary to popular belief, Satoru didn't actually know how to teleport. He called it teleportation for convenience's sake, but it would be more accurate to call it spatial displacement. By using a specialized form of Blue, he was able to force the fabrics of space to fold inward on itself, compressing the distance needed to travel from one point to another into zero length. This was only made possible with his Six Eyes, which gave him the raw precision needed to calculate and stabilize the curvature without accidentally blowing a hole into the spacetime continuum.
However, since he was only manipulating the curvature of existing space and not using true teleportation, that meant his spatial displacement had several limitations, the main one being that he needed a clear path to his target. If the path was obstructed by matter, then the integrity of the spatial fold would collapse and normal reality would reassert itself, rendering the technique a failure.
This meant that, unfortunately, he couldn't just teleport into the higher-ups council room of Jujutsu Headquarters whenever he wanted to.
Using his Blue to rocket through the air at ultra-high speeds while wrapping his entire body in a dense impenetrable field of Infinity, on the other hand?
That. That he most certainly could do.
Satoru burst through the walls of the council room with a massive crash, a large boom echoing out as dust and debris went flying everywhere. The sheer force of his entry sent large gusts of wind buffeting through the room, knocking down the encircling paper doors that concealed the higher-ups and blowing out all the candles.
"Hey hey hey!" Satoru smiled, arms spread wide in greeting. "Did you guys miss me?"
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!"
The dust settled to reveal the six higher-ups plus Principal Yaga staring at him with emotions ranging from appalled disbelief to incandescent rage.
"GOJO SATORU!" Jujutsu Inspector General Zenin Hiroshi strode forward. Appointed directly by the Japanese Prime Minister himself, the elderly man was the leader of the higher-ups, the ruling body of the entire Jujutsu society. Ordinarily a calm and composed man, he was anything but as his face rapidly cycled through different shades of red and rapidly approached a deep purple. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Satoru grinned, light streaming in from the massive hole behind him, casting his shadow over the occupants within. "I heard you guys were throwing a party in here, and I thought I'd join in. Hope I'm not too late."
"Is this supposed to be a joke?!" Another higher-up, Zenin Kenji, asked incredulously. "We have tolerated your indiscretions so far, but this is crossing a line!"
"You shame our clan with your actions!" Gojo Kiyoshi spat at him. "Never before in our entire history has such a inglorious event occurred. Have your caretakers taught you nothing?"
"Gojo, what are you doing?" The wizened form of Principal Gakuganji stepped forward. On top of acting as the principal of Kyoto Jujutsu High, he was also a higher-up, though unofficially the lowest-ranked. "This is going too far, even for you."
"The sheer nerve! The sheer impudence!" Kamo Arata hissed. "Why, I have never seen such blatant disrespect before. You shame yourself!"
And on and on it went, the higher-ups clamoring over each other as they lambasted him, their furious voices overlapping in their rants. Satoru tuned them out easily enough, instead looking over at Yaga, who was standing behind the higher-ups and trying his absolute hardest to not draw any attention. Their eyes met, and Satoru could practically hear Yaga's silent 'what the fuck Gojo seriously?' from across the room – but beneath that, he saw a deep sense of relief in his former teacher's face.
So Yaga really had been in trouble, huh. Normally, he'd have been yelling at Gojo along with the other higher-ups.
"Do you truly believe that being Gojo Satoru grants you the free rein to do whatever you want?" Inspector General Hiroshi asked.
At this, Satoru finally responded. "Yeah," he flashed them a cocky smile. "I do."
It was almost comical how all six higher-ups simultaneously drew back in offense at his answer.
"You insolent whelp!" Inspector General Hiroshi snarled, sounding twice as incensed as before. "Your arrogance blinds you! You think your name allows you to trample the rules of these sacred halls? Know your place!"
"Know my place, huh?" Satoru tilted his head. "Gladly."
A terrible wave of power exploded out from Satoru's form, an incomprehensible weight slamming down onto the higher-ups and forcing them to their knees. The air became suffocating to breathe, filled with so much cursed energy it became nearly tangible. The walls groaned and cracked from the unbelievable pressure as Satoru's Infinity expanded to fill the entire room.
The cocky grin on Satoru's face disappeared, replaced by a severe expression so utterly devoid of any emotion it was like gazing into the void itself. His blindfold fluttered off by itself, revealing the brilliant blue of his Six Eyes, colder than an arctic winter.
"I think you six may have forgotten," Satoru said, his quiet voice resounding in the oppressive stillness of the room, "but I am the strongest. Not by a little. Not even by a lot. I'm the strongest by a fucking disgraceful amount. There is a larger gap between you and I than there is between a firecracker and a nuclear bomb. We are not even close – we do not even exist in the same dimension. You six, always cloistered away behind your adorned walls and doors, seem to have forgotten that."
The higher-ups all struggled to move, to get back on their feet, their muscles tensing and their cursed energies flaring, to no avail. The force of Satoru's Limitless was too much. It pressed down on them like Buddha's right hand, and if Satoru wanted to, he could make them all go splat with just a thought.
Huh. Why didn't he?
It would be so, so easy...
His fingers twitched–
"Why are you doing this?" Inspector General Hiroshi managed to gasp out. He tried to maintain a strong tone, but the tremor of fear in his voice was unmistakable. "An unforgivable lapse in security occurred today. It is only natural to reprimand Principal Yaga for his failure–"
"Oh, right," Satoru said. "Yeah, that was actually me."
"What?"
"I captured the cursed spirit Kakashi earlier today and brought him into the sealing chamber to interrogate him, but due to some unforeseeable and unpreventable reasons, he managed to escape. I guess he took some souvenirs on his way out."
Inspector General Hiroshi gaped at him. "What?!"
"Yeah. My bad," Satoru shrugged. "Doesn't really matter, really. What does matter, however, is..." His eyes narrowed and his face darkened. "What, exactly, were you fuckers doing to my pookie wookie Yaga bear?"
All the way back when Satoru had still been a student in Jujutsu High, he had spent several days binge watching a bunch of James Bond movies with Suguru and Shoko. Afterward, the three of them had come up with an emergency code system for different situations and shared them with Yaga the next day during class. Yaga, their teacher at the time, had scoffed at them, saying that being a jujutsu sorcerer was nothing like being a spy – if it was, then he'd be driving a much nicer car. However, Yaga's memory must've been good enough to remember the emergency code system over a decade later.
Code blue meant 'enemy with illusionary ability.' Code periwinkle meant 'all clear but proceed with caution.'
Code black meant 'agent in mortal danger.'
"What do you mean?" Inspector General Hiroshi asked. "We were just discussing–"
"You can shut up now," Satoru interrupted. He turned to Yaga, who was currently backed up against the wall, looking as if he was trying his hardest to melt into the surface. When Satoru's gaze fell on him, Yaga waved his hands desperately, as if trying to signal to keep him out of it.
Satoru merely grinned. "Principal Yaga!"
"Goddamn," Yaga whispered under his breath as the six eyes of the higher-ups swiveled over to stare at him. "I-I mean. What's up?"
"So, what did these old bastards want with you?" Satoru asked.
Yaga glanced between Satoru and the higher-ups. He looked agonized for a few moments, but must've realized that there would be no way to resolve the situation diplomatically. He would have to choose a side.
It wasn't much of a choice.
"As punishment for my failure to preserve the security of the inner sanctum," Yaga said, "they ordered me to reveal the secret behind my cursed corpse creation."
Satoru froze. Out of everything, he hadn't expected that.
Years ago, when Yaga had first perfected his cursed corpse creation technique and created Panda, the higher-ups had nearly placed him under lifetime imprisonment out of fear that he might create his own cursed corpse army. He was restrained and interrogated for two weeks as they did everything they could to extract the secrets of his technique, but he had adamantly denied all knowledge of how it worked. In the end, since he hadn't technically done anything wrong, they had had no choice but to let him go.
Now, however, it seemed that the higher-ups were seizing this new opportunity to finally force the truth out of him.
And if Yaga told them his secrets, then the higher-ups would have no more reason to keep him alive, and his execution would be assured. The higher-ups couldn't have anyone other than them knowing the immensely powerful technique, after all.
Satoru's lips curled. In the end, it was the same story every time. The higher-ups were just a bunch of power-hungry old fools. Young jujutsu sorcerers – no. Young kids were dying on the streets before they even reached their twenties, while the higher-ups and the clans zealously guarded the very techniques and skills that could've kept them alive. Information was hoarded, not freely shared. It was just such a backwards, rotting system.
"It is our right to know," Kamo Arata said imperiously, glaring at Yaga. "Did you seriously think we believed you back then when you claimed to not know how Panda was created? We let it slide out of mercy, but with this latest transgression, it's clear that our leniency was a mistake–"
He stopped speaking abruptly. Likely because of the red orb at the tip of Satoru's finger gun, aimed straight at his face.
"Go on," Satoru urged. "Finish your sentence. Give me a reason."
Kamo Arata swallowed. Wisely, he kept silent.
Instead, it was Yaga who spoke up. "Gojo," he said weakly. "Let it go. It's fine. I'm sure they learned their lesson."
Satoru didn't give any indication he heard him. He just continued looking down dispassionately at the higher-up, the red orb swirling with more and more condensed positive cursed energy.
"Satoru," Yaga tried again. "Please."
Satoru glanced at him, and Yaga felt a chill run through him at the look in Satoru's eyes. Though he would never say it out loud, Satoru didn't look human at this moment. His Six Eyes shone with an ethereal, otherworldly color, and it felt like some divine being studying the mortal riddle.
Then the moment passed and Satoru nodded, his cursed technique reversal dissipating. "Fine." He turned back to the higher-ups. "You're lucky Yaga is such a nice guy." He shook his head. "You've gotten too bold recently. First, it was your plot to kill Itadori Yuuji. Now this. This will be your only warning." His eyes flashed. "Watch yourselves."
The Infinity in the room pulsed dangerously one last time before it disappeared. The higher-ups all heaved heavy breaths, some of them collapsing while others shot to their feet and tried their best to compose themselves. Satoru ignored all of them, instead turning around and casually strolling out the hole he came from. "Come on, Yaga. Let's get outta here. I'm craving something sweet after this."
Yaga hurriedly fell in line behind him, dutifully trying his best to not meet any of the higher-ups' gazes. Though it looked like one or two wanted to call out, none of them said anything as Satoru and Yaga walked away, leaving behind the ruined council room in their wake.
[-∞,∞]
"Oh my fucking god," said Ijichi.
Nanami's reaction was more nonverbal. He simply walked over to the lounge's cabinets, pulled out a bottle of vodka and a shot glass, filled the shot glass up to the brim, then abandoned the plan altogether and took a long, long drink straight from the bottle.
Gojo grinned, his cursed energy still thrumming underneath his skin. "That felt so good. I need to thank Kakashi for giving me this opportunity."
After a brief debriefing, Yaga had practically sprinted away, muttering to himself how none of this had been in the damn job description and that he needed to update his will. Gojo had then returned to Lounge B where Nanami and Ijichi were waiting and filled them in on what happened.
"You really just... broke into the heart of Jujutsu Headquarters... and attacked the higher-ups..." After a brief moment of thought, Ijichi spun around, took the shot glass, and threw it back in a single gulp. "What have you done?"
"Something I should've done much sooner," Gojo said. "Is this what heroin feels like? I think this might be what heroin feels like."
"I knew this day would come eventually," Nanami said, finally setting down the bottle – holy fuck, half of it was already empty. Gojo eyed Nanami warily. The former salaryman didn't even look flushed. Just how soul-sucking had his previous job been to drive him to such disturbing levels of alcohol tolerance? "What a pain. I only hope that this was something you fully thought through and not just some impulsive decision you made on the fly."
"Trust me," Gojo said. "I've been thinking about doing this ever since I was a child. Though..."
Several indecipherable emotions flickered across his face.
You could do it, Satoru.
Gojo looked down at his hands. "Maybe I..." He trailed off.
He startled as a warm hand fell on his shoulder. He looked up to see a solemn expression on Nanami's face.
"Whatever you choose, I'll back you up," he said.
"Same here," Ijichi said, looking as if he was regretting the words even as he said them, but his earnest tone not wavering one bit.
Slowly, Gojo smiled. "Thank you, Ijichi, Nanamin. It means a lot."
"Of course."
"Don't call me Nanamin."
"Anyway, the higher-ups should back off for a while now," Gojo said. "They'll need some time to lick their wounds and recover their pride. I doubt they'll do anything for a bit."
"Err, Gojo," Ijichi said. "The Kyoto Goodwill Event is coming up in a few days, remember? Gakuganji is their principal, and you just humiliated him along with the rest of the higher-ups."
"Eh, I went easy on him compared to the others," Satoru said. "He's not truly one of them, in my opinion. He might be old and wrinkly, but the others are far more sickening and corrupt."
"Do you think that will stop him from commanding his students to go all-out on ours?"
Gojo blinked. "Ah. You think he'd be petty enough to do that?"
Ijichi and Nanami just looked at him.
Gojo chuckled. "Right, right. Well, it should be fine. I believe in my students. I just can't wait until he finds out Yuuji is still alive – the look on his face will be priceless. Maybe he'll finally have an aneurysm."
Nanami grunted. "You have your fun. This day has been too long. I'm going home." It was already almost midnight. "Have a good evening."
"Good night, Nanami," Ijichi said.
"Oh, one more thing," Gojo called after him.
Nanami turned back near the door. "What?"
"Clear your schedule during the days of the Kyoto Goodwill Event."
"No."
"Aww, please? For me?"
"I'm off those days," Nanami said, narrowing his eyes. "I'm always off those days. I requested those vacation days three months in advance this year."
"Yeah, well, cancel them."
"Absolutely not."
"I'll have the administration pay you triple overtime."
An internal war was fought within Nanami. It wasn't even close.
"I'll be there," Nanami said. "But why? Do you think something will happen?"
Gojo hummed. "Who knows, who knows. I have a gut feeling, though."