Chapter 39 — Thirty-Nine Punch
Zenin Maki, who had been watching Fushiguro Megumi and Kamo Noritoshi engage in a chaotic "Pokémon-style" free-for-all, suddenly caught something in the corner of her eye and turned her head.
"Maki, what's wrong?"
Panda noticed her movement and instinctively followed her gaze, just in time to see Saitama walking out of the first-floor lobby of the school building behind Miwa Kasumi.
"That's weird. Why did Miwa call Saitama out?" Zenin Maki raised an eyebrow and muttered to herself. "They're not even familiar with each other, right? They probably haven't even spoken before."
"No idea." Panda scratched his head.
Behind the two of them, Gojo Satoru—who was hosting with a microphone in hand—was some distance away, with the cheerful music and combat sound effects of the fighting game blaring between them. Even so, he caught every word of their conversation.
"Hmm…"
Gojo withdrew his gaze from the direction Saitama had left and quickly swept his eyes toward the Kyoto school side.
The Kyoto students were gathered around Kamo Noritoshi, cheering him on. However, Gakuganji Yoshinobu, who should have been watching nearby, was nowhere to be seen in the lobby.
Looks like the old man slipped away while I was passionately hosting just now. Not noticing that was quite the oversight…
Gojo raised a hand and scratched the back of his head before suddenly grabbing Utahime Iori, who had been staring intently at the game screen.
"Utahime, you take over hosting for me," he said, shoving the microphone into her hand without waiting for a response. "I'm going to buy a drink."
Utahime, who had absolutely no experience hosting: "Eh? Ehh—!?"
Ignoring the flustered Utahime, Gojo strode out quickly.
...
"What do you need me for? And why do we have to walk this far?"
Saitama followed behind Miwa Kasumi, muttering to himself as they walked. With her back to him, Miwa already had a few beads of sweat forming on her forehead where he couldn't see.
After circling more than half the school building, Miwa finally stopped in front of a small reception room, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.
The blackout curtains in the room were drawn tightly shut, leaving the interior dim, illuminated only by a faint sliver of light from the doorway.
Saitama squinted, his face scrunching up as he tried to make out his surroundings. "It's so dark. Aren't you turning on the lights? …Hm?"
In the darkness, someone slowly stepped into the beam of light from the doorway. Saitama blinked slightly and saw a bald head similar to his own.
The body of Kyoto Principal Gakuganji Yoshinobu gradually came into view under the light. Leaning on his cane, he stopped in front of Saitama. His deeply sunken eye sockets hid his eyes entirely in shadow, giving his aged face a somewhat frightening appearance.
"…"
With a click, Miwa turned on the lights, then moved to stand by the wall with her hands clasped behind her back.
Under the lights, Gakuganji stared at Saitama for a few seconds. Then, the stern, somewhat intimidating expression that had been fixed on his face suddenly changed into a smile.
In an instant, as if he had swapped faces, Gakuganji's winter-like severity transformed into a spring breeze warmth, like a kindly old grandfather one might see anywhere. Even the background around him seemed to turn into a sunlit field of flowers.
Gakuganji stroked his long white beard and said with a smile, "Saitama, was it? Have a seat first."
For a brief moment, Miwa—standing to the side—looked as if she'd seen a ghost. Saitama, on the other hand, showed no reaction whatsoever. He simply responded with an "Oh," walked over, and sat down.
"…"
Gakuganji stood there in silence for a moment.
He had originally expected Saitama to at least politely decline out of respect for him as Kyoto's principal, or invite him to sit first.
Looking at Saitama now, Gakuganji realized that after sitting on the sofa, the bald man was simply staring blankly ahead, as if he had no intention of saying anything. Left with no choice, Gakuganji cleared his throat lightly and sat down opposite him.
"Miwa, tea," Gakuganji instructed.
"Yes." Miwa immediately brought over the tea set she had prepared earlier on a tray and poured a cup for each of them.
Saitama accepted the cup, said "Thanks," and began drinking.
"Miwa, there's nothing else for you to do. You may return to watch the match," Gakuganji said, still smiling as he waved a hand.
Maintaining a stiff expression, Miwa walked out with rigid steps and slid the door shut behind her with a sharp snap.
Facing the closed door for two seconds, Miwa suddenly shuddered. Hugging her arms, she hunched slightly and shuffled off to the side.
The principal's kindly smile… somehow it's just too creepy.
Thinking this, she headed back toward the venue. But out of the corner of her eye, she suddenly noticed a figure.
She instinctively turned her head—and her body grew even stiffer.
Gojo Satoru was standing in the room next to the reception room. Leaning against the shared wall between the two rooms, one leg bent with his heel pressed to the wall, he wore a thoughtful expression.
Noticing that Miwa had seen him, Gojo smiled and raised a finger to his lips.
Miwa shuddered again. At this moment, even Gojo's devastatingly handsome face had completely lost its charm in her eyes.
Forget it. It's better not to get involved in matters between the two schools. I'll just pretend I saw nothing and walk away.
With that thought, Miwa decisively withdrew her gaze and hurried off.
---
"…By the way, it was you who had Miwa call me here, right?" Saitama looked up, still holding his cup of tea. "What exactly do you want with me?"
"Saitama." Gakuganji Yoshinobu swirled the tea in his cup with a finger, his eyes on Saitama, wearing a kindly smile. "May I ask… why would someone like you, with no cursed energy at all, choose to enroll in Jujutsu High?"
Saitama was silent for a moment. He glanced at the floor, then returned his gaze to Gakuganji.
"Gojo Satoru told me that if I become a professional jujutsu sorcerer, I can get paid for exorcising curses," he replied simply.
"…"
Gakuganji hadn't expected such a reason. His long white eyebrows twitched, and after a few seconds, he asked, "When did you start attending the school?"
"Hmm… about a month ago, I guess," Saitama said, resting a fist on his chin as he recalled.
"I see… just a month ago," Gakuganji murmured. "That means you haven't been enrolled long, and you probably haven't formed any deep connections with Tokyo School yet."
"…"
"I have a proposal," Gakuganji said, smiling at Saitama. "Saitama-kun, why not give up Tokyo School and transfer to Kyoto School?"
Saitama froze slightly. "Eh?"
"I've seen your performance at the exchange event. You single-handedly dealt with a special-grade curse, shattered Tengen-sama's defensive barrier, and broke through the formations set by the enemy curse users. Compared to you, the other students seem as fragile as toddlers…"
"Before I happened to see your performance, even I—and the entire jujutsu world—didn't know you existed. And judging by the situation, you haven't received a position at Tokyo School that matches your ability."
"Yaga and Gojo's kid probably intended to keep you on the sidelines. On top of that, those useless kids at Tokyo School—though far weaker than you—somehow manage to step on you at every opportunity…"
Saitama raised a serious hand. "No, they haven't stepped on me either."
Ignoring Saitama, Gakuganji's gaze suddenly sharpened. "Saitama, are you content just sitting on the bench at Tokyo School?"
Saitama kept his usual blank, minimal-expression face, silently staring at him.
"Tokyo School will only bury talent like yours. But here at Kyoto School, things would be different."
"Saitama, with your ability, you shouldn't be a nameless nobody. Your name should resonate like Gojo Satoru's. Even if you only enrolled to become a jujutsu sorcerer, we can offer you much better conditions. For example—"
Gakuganji's thin lips moved. "You're still just a trainee at Tokyo School, right? At Kyoto School, we can give you full student status."
Saitama's gaze instantly grew serious. "…"
"At Kyoto Jujutsu High, you would enroll as a star student, admired by everyone. Your strength wouldn't be hidden; it would be fully showcased for all to see."
"Besides ability, popularity matters too. We would completely transform you, so you'd be as adored as Gojo Satoru." Gakuganji glanced at Saitama's bright yellow jumpsuit and cape. "At least you'd get the school's specially designed uniform. As for that ridiculous outfit you're wearing that looks like it cost no more than 500 yen, you don't need to wear it anymore. Throw it away immediately."
Saitama: "…Huh?"
"Look closely. Although your facial features are arranged rather casually—"
Saitama: "Casually!?"
"—they're not unattractive. In fact, you have sharp brows and bright eyes. Quite handsome, actually."
Saitama, expressionless: "Being described as handsome by an old grandpa… feels kind of weird."
"…It's just your expression that's awful, Saitama," Gakuganji continued. "What's with the dead-fish eyes and blank face? And those relaxed eyebrows?"
"Saitama!" Gakuganji suddenly bellowed in his aged voice, his eyes flashing with intensity. "Give me a life-burning expression!"
Saitama: "…(forcing facial muscles)"
Gakuganji: "…"
Gakuganji made a terrifying face himself. "What's with that dehydrated sea cucumber look? That constipated expression? Why is it uglier than before? Forget it, just go back to how you were before."
Saitama's face returned from the strained expression to his usual numb, dead-fish eyes, emotionlessly staring at Gakuganji. "…"
Gakuganji continued confidently, "It doesn't matter if you don't know what expression to make. We can find professionals to help you. As long as you practice expression management and work with our hired stylist for your look, you will dominate the jujutsu world, amassing fans comparable to Gojo Satoru."
"As for promotions, that's not a problem either. Kyoto School has countless alumni who are now active jujutsu sorcerers. Within the jujutsu world, factions and groups matter. Once you get to know them a little, combined with the school's prestige, recommendations will come naturally. Advancing to Grade 1… no, with your level, even reaching Special Grade is only a matter of time."
"Not to mention the jujutsu world's higher-ups. I can personally recommend you. What they lack most is someone with your combat ability."
"Every Special-Grade sorcerer in the jujutsu world has their own personality. When Gojo Satoru first appeared, the higher-ups had great expectations for him. But that kid, though unmatched in strength, was far too rebellious, and as a result, he became a thorn in their side."
"At a time like this, someone with strength on par with Gojo Satoru—like you—could win favor with the higher-ups just by handling a few tasks for them. You'd immediately become their trusted subordinate. It wouldn't be impossible for you to eventually rise into their ranks."
"Saitama, come to our school," Gakuganji Yoshinobu finally extended his hand toward Saitama. "You would become a rising star in the jujutsu world, someone all eyes are on."
For a moment, the room fell into an unusual silence.
"Saitama, what do you think?" Gakuganji asked, smiling slightly, confident in his pitch.
"Sounds like a lot of trouble. I'll pass," Saitama replied flatly, his expression blank.
"…What?"
Gakuganji's dry hand tightened around his teacup. The kindly smile on his face slowly faded, and bloodshot lines crept into his deeply sunken eyes.
"The conditions I offered just now were already very sincere compared to Tokyo, weren't they?" His eyes bulged as he asked in a low voice, "Why would you refuse?"
"Grandpa, were you even listening?" Saitama said, a little speechless. "I already told you. It just sounds like too much trouble. Everything you just said is a lot to take in—I can't even remember it all. Honestly, it's overwhelming."
"—But don't you want all that?" Gakuganji slammed his palm on the table, making the teacup jump. "Money, fame, status, the cheers of the people, the respect of your peers… Tokyo School isn't going to give you any of that. But at Kyoto School, all of it is within reach… why refuse?"
"Because I just want to be a hero for fun."
Gakuganji whispered in disbelief, "Your reason is way too casual."
Saitama remained calm, speaking as if nothing unusual had happened. "I don't work for status or praise. As for wanting a salary, it's only so I don't have to worry about part-time work while upholding justice."
"I couldn't care less what others think of me," Saitama said, standing up. He looked at the stunned old principal with his usual blank expression. "If you do things caring about how others see you, what kind of hero is that?"
"So sorry, Grandpa, but it seems what you offered isn't really for me." Saitama walked toward the door, then glanced back.
The breeze from the opening door lifted his cape, his face backlit and unreadable, but his tone remained calm as ever: "Though, if there's another sister school event in Kyoto, I'll still come along. I've never been to Kyoto, so I'll count on you to host me then."
…
On the other side, after leaving the reception room, Saitama walked down the long corridor. After a while, he paused.
"Huh… which way leads to the main hall…"
He stared at the fork in the hallway, a bead of sweat forming. At that moment, an arm suddenly draped over his shoulder, and a slightly flirtatious voice rang out:
"Sai"
Gojo Satoru leaned casually on Saitama's shoulder, speaking with warmth and enthusiasm. "Lost your way to the main hall? I'll take you there."
"Huh? You came out too?"
Saitama froze as his peripheral vision caught Gojo's smiling face, and he suddenly understood.
His gaze landed on Gojo's lips, and his expression grew slightly awkward. "You didn't sneak out to reapply lip balm, did you?"
"Huh? Did Saitama notice?"
Gojo removed his arm from Saitama's shoulder and raised a hand to cover his lips, speaking softly. "I feel a little embarrassed when someone notices me putting on lip balm…"
Saitama was momentarily speechless. "Honestly, if it embarrasses you, then don't put it on."
"That won't do. A proper, handsome gentleman has to maintain his appearance. Chapped lips would ruin my reputation, you see?" Gojo lowered his hand, speaking with mock seriousness. "But I guess Saitama wouldn't understand that."
A vein popped on Saitama's bald head. "…Sorry, I really don't understand."
Gojo guided Saitama down the hallway toward the main hall. Silence lingered for a moment.
"I heard everything earlier," Gojo said casually, hands in his pockets.
"Hear what?" Saitama blinked. "Oh, you mean what I talked about with that old man? Doesn't matter. It wasn't anything shameful."
Gojo quietly smiled at that.
"After the individual match, stay behind for a bit," he suddenly said. "We actually have something to discuss with you as well."
"Eh, stay behind after it's over? Well… other than that, nothing else… except maybe the supermarket's special sale…"
Gojo waved his hand grandly. "Dinner's on me tonight."
Saitama: "Oh, in that case, no problem."