A/N: Longest chapter I've ever written đ
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The echo of Satoru Gojo's booming voice still hung in the heavy mountain air, vibrating against the ancient stone walls of Tokyo Jujutsu High. The Kyoto students stood completely frozen on the pavilion, staring up at the clear morning sky in utter confusion, while the Tokyo students braced themselves for the inevitable disaster that always accompanied their teacher's grand ideas.
Suddenly, a massive, overwhelming shadow swept over the entire pavilion, completely blotting out the bright morning sun. The wind pressure picked up violently within a fraction of a second, swirling thick dust, loose maple leaves, and gravel across the concrete in a chaotic vortex. A deep, echoing roar reverberated from the clouds above, loud enough to rattle the glass windows of the distant school buildings.
From the thick canopy of the surrounding forest, an enormous creature ascended gracefully into the sky. It was a traditional Japanese dragon, its long, serpentine body covered in shimmering, midnight-blue scales that caught the sunlight like polished obsidian. Its massive claws gripped the empty air, and its long, pale whiskers trailed behind it like silken threads in the wind. This was one of Oden's personal summoned Shinigami, a creature born of raw cursed energy and ancient authority, rarely brought out unless he wanted to make a massive statement.
Standing proudly on the flat head of the great beast, completely unfazed by the roaring wind, was Oden. He looked remarkably distinct today. His dark uniform hoodie was pulled up completely over his head, casting a deep shadow across the upper half of his face. Wrapped firmly over his eyes was a crisp, clean white cloth, tied tightly at the back of his head in a manner that perfectly mirrored Gojo's signature blindfold. Coiled comfortably around his neck like a living scarf was a small, slender snake Shikigami with pale scales and brilliant golden eyes. The little snake tilted its head, its tongue flickering as it scanned the crowd below. Oden stood with his arms crossed, sharing the senses of his tiny companion to perceive the entire courtyard in a sharp, crystalline sensory layout.
From somewhere behind a nearby traditional torii gate, the rhythmic, sharp sound of traditional wooden clappers echoed across the courtyard. Gojo had somehow acquired a pair of high-quality hyoshigi and was striking them together with absolute theatrical precision, perfectly mimicking the opening of an old kabuki play.
Gojo cleared his throat, using a subtle amount of cursed energy to amplify his voice into a booming, old-school theatrical narration that resonated through the trees.
"Hear ye, hear ye! From the deepest depths of the eastern underworld, riding upon the storm clouds of eternal destiny, steps forth a warrior of unparalleled renown!" Gojo shouted, striking the wooden clappers together once more with a loud crack. "A man whose very name strikes absolute terror into the hearts of wicked spirits and makes the conservative elders cry tears of frustration into their morning tea!"
Oden took that as his cue, immediately striking a dramatic, traditional kabuki pose right on the dragon's snout. Through the eyes of the small snake around his neck, he tracked the exact positions of everyone below. He tilted his head sharply to the side, shifting his weight and stamping his right foot heavily onto the beast's scales to add emphasis to the performance.
"I am the shadow that walks beneath the crescent moon, the unyielding blade of the Tokyo vanguard!" Oden recited, his voice carrying an exaggerated, rhythmic cadence reminiscent of an old Edo-period stage play. "To those who have traveled from the distant, ancient capital of Kyoto, I say this: prepare your spirits, for you stand in the presence of undisputed greatness!"
The midnight-blue dragon let out another earth-shaking roar, twisting its massive serpentine body in a graceful loop through the sky before descending rapidly toward the stone pavilion below.
The reactions from the spectators were immediate and radically varied.
Maki Zenin looked like she wanted the earth to split open and swallow her whole. She covered her face entirely with both of her hands, her shoulders shaking with pure, unadulterated second-hand embarrassment.
'I cannot believe I am teammates with these two idiots,' she thought, her teeth grinding together so loudly it was audible. 'I genuinely cannot do this today.'
Panda just let out a heavy sigh, shaking his large furry head in a mixture of resignation and mild amusement. "You have to admire the absolute commitment to the bit. He even managed to get Gojo to do the sound effects."
Toge Inumaki stared blankly at the sky, his high collar pulled all the way up to his nose as the wind buffeted his clothes. "Bonito flakes."
On the Kyoto side, the students were completely flabbergasted, their tactical mindsets thoroughly derailed by the sheer absurdity of the spectacle. Noritoshi Kamo's jaw had actually cracked open slightly, his usual calm, closed-eyed composure completely shattered by the entrance. Mai Zenin looked entirely disgusted, her hand gripping her holster tightly as if she couldn't decide whether to shoot Oden out of the sky or shoot herself to escape the cringe. Momo Nishimiya nearly fell completely off her broom from the sudden wind pressure, clutching the wooden handle with white knuckles.
Kasumi Miwa, however, was having a massive, chaotic internal crisis.
'Oh my god, he's riding a dragon! A real, actual midnight dragon! And he has a white blindfold just like Gojo-sensei's! And a cute little snake around his neck! This is the most amazing, ridiculous, high-budget thing I have ever seen in my entire life! Tokyo is so cool!'
But the most intense reaction came from Aoi Todo. The massive Kyoto student wasn't angry, annoyed, or embarrassed. His eyes were wide, glittering with a manic, unadulterated joy that bordered on spiritual enlightenment. He stared up at the descending dragon with a massive, toothy grin spreading across his scarred face, his massive fists clenching in pure excitement.
"Incredible!" Todo bellowed, slamming his hands together in a heavy clap. "Now that is what I call a grand entrance! An absolute explosion of raw passion, style, and individuality! He isn't boring at all! He's magnificent!"
The midnight-blue dragon swept down with immense speed, its massive tail brushing lightly against the tops of the maple trees before it hovered just a few feet above the cobblestones of the pavilion. Oden hopped casually off the creature's head, landing flawlessly on the ground with a lazy, practiced grace. With a simple, fluid wave of his right hand, the massive dragon dissolved into a thick, swirling mist of dark cursed energy, vanishing entirely into the mountain breeze. The small snake around Oden's neck adjusted its coils, resting comfortably over his collar.
Gojo stepped out from behind the traditional torii gate, casually tossing the wooden clappers into a nearby bush. He clapped his hands together happily, walking over to stand right beside his star pupil with an immensely smug expression.
"Ten out of ten! Absolute perfection! The crowd is completely speechless, Oden!" Gojo cheered, flashing a thumbs-up.
"Naturally, sensei. A true masterpiece of performance art. We really nailed the timing on the roar," Oden replied, casually adjusting his pulled-up hoodie as if he hadn't just arrived on a mythical beast.
Before they could celebrate their theatrical victory any further, a dark, suffocating aura filled the immediate area. Maki Zenin was marching toward them, each of her heavy steps leaving an imaginary crater of absolute fury in the stone pavement. Her face was entirely twisted in rage, a massive, prominent vein throbbing violently on her right temple.
"Oden!" Maki screamed, her voice cracking with pure fury as she reached them. She reached out and grabbed the fabric of his pulled-up hoodie, violently shaking him back and forth. "Where the hell have you been?! You missed the entire mandatory strategy meeting! We sat in that room for an hour trying to figure out how to cover the field now that Yuta is gone, and you were out here playing traditional Edo theater with this giant child?!"
The small pale snake around Oden's neck gave a tiny, lazy hiss at the sudden movement, but it didn't attack, perfectly mirroring Oden's own relaxed state of mind. Oden let his head bob back and forth limply as she shook his hoodie, his shared vision through the snake keeping his perception of the courtyard perfectly stable.
"Maki, please, chill out. A true artist cannot be constrained by rigid schedules. Besides, Gojo-sensei explicitly told me the meeting was just going to consist of you yelling at me about the dry-erase markers anyway."
"I am yelling because you deserve to be yelled at!" Maki roared, finally letting go of his hoodie with a frustrated shove and turning her furious glare directly onto Gojo. "And you! You're the teacher! You're supposed to be guiding us and helping us prepare, not encouraging him to summon mythical beast for a five-minute comedy routine right before a major tournament!"
Utahime Iori marched up right behind Maki, her face equally red with frustration, her long purple hair swaying aggressively. She pointed an accusing finger directly at Gojo's chest, her teeth clenched.
"Satoru! You absolute child!" Utahime yelled, her voice trembling with intense irritation. "Every single year you do something completely ridiculous and unnecessary to disrupt our arrival! Do you have any idea how much administrative paperwork I have to fill out when you cause a massive public scene like this on school grounds?!"
Gojo simply chuckled, leaning his tall frame back and resting his hands casually behind his head in a thoroughly relaxed posture. "Oh, calm down, Utahime. The scenery out here is beautiful, the weather is absolutely perfect, and my students are just full of youthful energy. You should try smiling more often; all this shouting is going to give you terrible wrinkles."
"I am going to murder you one of these days, Satoru, I swear it to god," Utahime growled, her fists clenching so tightly her knuckles turned white.
A few paces away, Miwa was trying her absolute best to remain professional and guard her principal, but her eyes were glassing over as she looked at the two blindfolded sorcerers standing side by side.
'Two Special Grades with covered eyes standing right in front of me! Gojo-sensei is so incredibly tall and handsome in person, and his voice is so clear! And Oden-kun looks so incredibly mysterious with that white cloth and the little snake companion! I am so incredibly glad I chose to become a jujutsu sorcerer!'
Gojo entirely ignored Utahime's death threats, clapping his hands together once more as if he had suddenly remembered something of immense global importance.
"Ah! That's right! I almost forgot the most important part of our annual sister school meeting!" Gojo exclaimed brightly. He reached into his deep uniform pockets and pulled out a large, colorful paper bag that he had been cleverly hiding behind his back the entire time. "Since you all traveled such a long, exhausting way from the ancient, incredibly boring streets of Kyoto, I went ahead and bought some lovely local Tokyo souvenirs for everyone!"
He stepped right past the furious Utahime, completely bypassing her as if she were a ghost, and walked directly up to the line of Kyoto students.
"Here you go, Miwa-chan! A limited-edition Tokyo idol keychain!" Gojo said, dropping a glittering plastic trinket into her trembling hands with a dazzling smile.
Miwa's eyes instantly turned into giant, sparkling saucers, her face flushing bright red. "Oh my god! Thank you so much, Gojo-sensei! I will treasure it for the rest of my natural life!"
"And for Kamo-kun, some high-quality Tokyo blotting paper to keep that noble traditionalist forehead nice and matte during combat," Gojo continued, tossing a small packet to the rigid boy, who caught it out of pure reflex, looking thoroughly confused. "For Mai-chan, some sweet strawberry mochi to hopefully cure that perpetually sour attitude of yours. For Momo-chan, a fancy decorative charm to hang on that ancient broomstick. And for Mechamaru, a premium bottle of synthetic machine oil! Keep those wooden joints nice and smooth, buddy!"
He handed out the gifts with lightning speed, leaving the Kyoto students holding an assortment of strange, random items. Then, Gojo folded the empty paper bag cleanly, shoved it back into his pocket, and turned around with a bright, satisfied smile.
Utahime stood in the exact same spot, her hands completely empty, her face turning a deep, dangerous shade of crimson. She stared at him, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.
"Satoru..." Utahime whispered, her voice dangerously quiet, vibrating with pure malice. "Where is mine?"
Gojo blinked innocently under his dark blindfold, tilting his head to the side like a confused puppy. "Huh? Your what?"
"My souvenir!" Utahime snapped, her voice rising in pitch. "You bought something for every single one of my students, but you didn't bring anything for me?!"
Gojo let out a dramatic, heavily exaggerated gasp, slapping a hand over his chest as if he were deeply offended by the accusation. "Utahime! Are you seriously asking me for a gift right now? I thought a traditional, high-class lady of the ancient Iori family would be far too proud to accept cheap, commercial Tokyo trinkets from a casual guy like me! Besides, I figured your sour attitude would just spoil any sweets I gave you anyway."
"I don't want your stupid sweets! I want basic professional courtesy!" Utahime roared, stomping her foot heavily onto the stone pavilion, causing several loose leaves to flutter.
Gojo just chuckled warmly, turning his back to her and addressing the entire gathered group of students with a wide, welcoming sweep of his long arms. "In all seriousness, welcome to Tokyo Jujutsu High, everyone! The Sister School Exchange Event is a beautiful tradition where young minds clash, spirits grow, and lifelong friendships are forged in the fires of fierce competition. I truly hope you all have an incredible, safe, and memorable exchange this year! Let's give it our absolute all tomorrow!"
While Gojo was busy infuriating Utahime, Aoi Todo slowly marched out of the Kyoto lineup. His massive, muscular frame cast a long, imposing shadow across the cobblestones as he stopped directly in front of Oden. The ambient noise of the courtyard seemed to quiet down entirely as the giant, scarred teenager stared down at the hooded, white-blindfolded Special Grade. The small snake around Oden's neck blinked its golden eyes, tracking Todo's face smoothly.
Oden looked up slightly, his expression thoroughly relaxed under his hood, his hands tucked loosely into his pockets. He didn't show a single ounce of fear, tension, or urgency.
"Oden," Todo said, his voice deep, the resonance vibrating through his massive chest. "Your entrance was spectacular. You possess a distinct lack of boredom, which is a rare and beautiful trait in this pathetic, rigid world. But before we step onto the field of battle later today, I must ask you the ultimate question. A question that defines the very core of a man's identity."
Oden tilted his head slightly, the pale snake on his neck shifting its weight. "An ultimate question? Go ahead. I am listening. I usually charge for interviews, but I will make an exception for a fellow enthusiast of the dramatic arts."
Todo leaned forward, his expression turning deathly serious, his eyes locking onto the white cloth covering Oden's face. "Tell me... what kind of women do you like? What is your type?"
A few yards away, Miwa covered her face with her hands, her shoulders tensing up. 'Oh no, he's doing it again! He did this to Okkotsu-kun yesterday and immediately attacked him! Please don't let this turn into another massive fistfight in the middle of the pavilion!'
Maki crossed her arms, watching closely with a critical eye, curious to see how her lazy teammate would respond to the resident eccentric of the Kyoto school.
Oden closed his eyes beneath the white cloth for a moment, humming thoughtfully as he rubbed the smooth scales of the little snake around his neck. He took his time, considering the question with absolute, profound seriousness as if he were analyzing a complex, high-level cursed technique.
"Well," Oden began slowly, the snake's head turning to lock its golden gaze directly into Todo's intense eyes. "If I had to define a specific, non-negotiable preference... I would say I like a tall woman. A woman with a solid, powerful frame and a genuinely fat butt. There is a certain undeniable beauty and dignity in a woman who possesses a strong, commanding physical presence that can hold her own."
Todo stood entirely frozen in place.
For a split second, his brain completely stopped functioning as the words processed. Then, a massive, overwhelming wave of profound emotion washed over his rugged features. The fat tears that had threatened to fall yesterday during his brief meeting with Yuta suddenly burst forth, streaming down his scarred cheeks in absolute torrents of pure joy.
In that exact millisecond, an elaborate, entirely fictional sequence played out inside Todo's mind. He imagined himself and Oden wearing matching high school uniforms, running through a beautiful field of blooming cherry blossoms under a bright pink sky. They were laughing together, sharing homemade bento boxes, and shouting about their favorite idols as best friends, soulmates bound together by the universal law of absolute taste.
"My brother..." Todo whispered, his voice trembling with an intense, overwhelming joy that vibrated through the air. He reached his massive hands forward, his eyes shining with tears. "You are my absolute brother! A soul of pure culture! A man who understands the deep, cosmic significance of a magnificent, powerfulâ"
"But," Oden interrupted calmly, raising a single finger to instantly halt Todo's emotional breakthrough.
Todo paused, his hands freezing in mid-air, a massive tear dripping from his chin. "But?"
"I prefer them to have smaller breasts," Oden stated smoothly, his tone completely matter-of-fact, without a single shred of hesitation. "Don't get me wrong, I don't mind big ones. Big breasts are perfectly fine and have their own distinct merits in the grand scheme of things. But if I had to choose a strict, personal preference, smaller is definitely preferred. It creates a much cleaner, more balanced aesthetic silhouette, you see. It's all about proportion."
The beautiful fictional world of cherry blossoms inside Todo's mind instantly shattered into a million jagged pieces, replaced by a cold, dark void of utter existential confusion and spiritual betrayal.
Todo staggered back a full step, clutching his head with both hands as if he had just been struck directly by a Special Grade cursed technique. His face contorted into a mask of deep, agonizing conflict. He stared down at Oden and his tiny snake companion as if the boy had just spoken a terrible, forbidden heresy.
"Smaller... breasts?" Todo whispered, his voice full of profound existential dread. He shook his head violently, his topknot swaying back and forth. "No... no, this is a massive, unforgivable complication. Tall with a fat butt is the ultimate truth of this universe... but small breasts? Takada-chan is a goddess of perfect, grand proportions! How can a man of such high culture harbor such a terrifying, tragic heresy?!"
Todo crossed his massive arms tightly over his chest, glaring down at Oden with a deeply complicated, pained expression. The tears were completely gone, replaced by a rigid, solemn intensity.
"Oden... you have thrown my very soul into complete and ultra disarray," Todo stated grimly, his voice low. "I am no longer quite sure if we can truly be brothers. The ideological divide you have introduced is far too deep, yet our foundational agreement on the lower half is so strong. It is a terrifying paradox!"
Oden blinked behind his white blindfold, the snake around his neck letting out a soft, confused hiss. "Is that so? It seems like a pretty simple, logical preference to me. No need to have a mid-life crisis over it."
"We will have to settle this on the field of battle!" Todo declared loudly, pointing a massive, calloused finger directly at Oden's hooded face. "When we fight during the exchange event, I will personally test the weight of your spirit! I will see if your physical convictions are strong enough to justify this tragic aesthetic deviation! Prepare yourself, Oden!"
Oden shrugged, scratching the side of his neck loosely with a faint sigh. He had absolutely no idea why this giant teenager was taking his personal dating preferences so intensely to heart, but he certainly wasn't one to back down from a challenge.
"Uh, sure," Oden said lazily, giving a casual wave of his hand as he turned toward the school buildings. "Whatever floats your boat, big guy. I'll see you on the field tomorrow. Try not to cry too much before then."
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Some time later, after the initial chaotic arrivals had been sorted out and the students from both schools had been guided to their respective preparatory quarters, the loud energy of the pavilion faded into a quiet, heavy stillness.
Satoru Gojo walked slowly through the ancient, polished wooden corridors of Tokyo Jujutsu High's restricted administrative wing. The playful, obnoxious grin he had worn all morning was completely gone, replaced by a cold, neutral mask. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, and his steps were entirely silent, his dark blindfold reflecting the dim light of the traditional paper lanterns hanging from the high ceiling.
He arrived at the entrance of a private, heavily sealed chamber located deep within the building. Standing right outside the sliding paper doors was Kasumi Miwa, her hand resting firmly on the hilt of her katana as she performed her official duties as a guard for the Kyoto principal.
When she saw Gojo approaching down the corridor, her entire body instantly went rigid. Her heart began hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird, and a bright blush crept rapidly up her neck.
'Oh my god, he's coming this way! He's right there! Act professional, Kasumi! You are a proud sorcerer of Kyoto! Do not lose your mind or drop your sword!'
"Hi there, Miwa-chan," Gojo said casually as he drew near, his voice dropping into a quiet, smooth register that made her knees feel slightly weak. "Is the old man inside?"
"Y-Yes, Gojo-sensei!" Miwa stammered, bowing quickly and deeply to hide her bright red face from his sight. "Principal Gakuganji is currently inside the chamber! I will inform him of your arrival immediatelyâ"
"No need, I'll just slide right in," Gojo interrupted with a small, knowing smirk.
He stepped smoothly past her, sliding the heavy paper door open without making a single sound and stepping into the dim, incense-filled room.
Inside, Yoshinobu Gakuganji sat cross-legged on a traditional tatami mat. The principal of the Kyoto school was an incredibly old, withered man, his long white beard reaching all the way to his lap, his bald head covered in deep, ancient wrinkles. He was wearing formal traditional robes, and leaning against his knees was his custom, high-end electric guitar, though he wasn't actively playing it at the moment. The scent of burning sandalwood filled the air.
Gakuganji didn't look up as Gojo entered the room, his cloudy, aged eyes remaining fixed on the floorboards. "You lack basic manners as always, Satoru. Entering a senior's private quarters without explicit permission is a clear sign of your pathetic upbringing."
Gojo didn't bother responding to the familiar insult. He walked over and sat down cross-legged right across from the old man, completely ignoring all traditional etiquette by leaning back casually. The ambient cursed energy in the room instantly shifted, turning freezing cold and thick with unexpressed power.
"Let's skip the boring pleasantries, old man," Gojo said, his voice entirely flat, devoid of any playfulness or warmth. "I want to talk about Yuta Okkotsu."
Gakuganji slowly raised his head, his ancient eyes fixing firmly on Gojo's blindfold. "Okkotsu? The Special Grade boy? What about him? He is a student of this school; his specific administrative movements are none of my concern."
"Don't play stupid with me," Gojo stated, the air in the room beginning to vibrate faintly with a low, dangerous hum that caused the flame of the incense burner to flicker wildly. "A sudden, high-priority emergency deployment order issued directly through the highest executive branches, completely bypassing Principal Yaga and myself, sending Yuta across the country the exact day before the exchange event starts. I know exactly how the conservative faction operates, Gakuganji. I want to know what the higher-ups are planning by clearing him off the board."
Gakuganji let out a dry, rattling cough, his old hands remaining perfectly steady on the neck of his guitar. "The higher-ups make decisions based solely on the stability of the jujutsu society. If an emergency anomaly requires the immediate presence of a Special Grade sorcerer, then a Special Grade is deployed. To assume there is a hidden, malicious conspiracy behind every standard administrative directive is a clear sign of your own growing paranoia, Satoru."
Gojo leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. Though his eyes were completely covered by the black fabric of his blindfold, Gakuganji could feel the terrifying weight of the Six Eyes locking onto his soul like a pair of loaded shotguns.
"You people are so incredibly predictable, it's almost sad," Gojo said quietly, his voice cutting through the silence of the room. "You're terrified of the new generation. You're terrified of Yuta, you're terrified of Oden, and you're terrified of the undeniable fact that the world is changing and leaving your ancient, dusty traditions behind in the dirt. You think that by pulling Yuta away from the campus, you've created a perfect little opening to execute whatever corrupt little scheme you've cooked up for the match."
Gakuganji remained completely motionless, his expression an unyielding mask of cold stone. "You speak boldly of treason and conspiracy, yet you have absolutely no proof to support your claims. The exchange event will proceed later today exactly as it always has. The students will compete, and the results will be determined solely by their own strength and preparation."
Gojo stood up slowly, his tall frame towering over the seated old man. The casual posture was entirely gone now, replaced by an absolute, suffocating pressure that made the wooden walls of the room creak and groan under the strain. Outside the door, Miwa felt the sudden, terrifying spike in pressure and gripped the hilt of her katana tightly, her breath catching completely in her throat from the sheer terror of the aura radiating through the paper walls.
Gojo shoved his hands back into his pockets, looking down at Gakuganji with an icy, absolute certainty that left no room for argument.
"I don't need proof, old man," Gojo said, his voice dropping into a chilling whisper that seemed to echo off the tatami mats. "I am going to say this exactly once, so make sure you repeat it clearly to every single one of those wrinkly cowards sitting in the executive chambers. I am keeping a very close eye on the field later today."
He turned toward the door, stopping just before he slid it open to exit. He glanced back over his shoulder, a faint, terrifying edge cutting through his words.
"If any of you do something to make me truly angry... if a single one of my students is permanently harmed because of your petty political games... I won't just file a complaint with the school board. I will walk directly into your executive chambers, and I will kill every single one of you. Do not test my patience, Gakuganji."
Without waiting for a response, Gojo slid the door open and stepped out into the corridor, leaving the old principal sitting entirely alone in the cold, silent shadows of the fading incense smoke.
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