Back in his assigned room, Touma shut the door and peeled off the mask. That careful blend of obedience and street-smart charm fell away like a discarded coat.
He sat on the bare mattress, eyes gone cold and sharp, turning over the newly earned simulation charge in his mind.
"One more chance..."
"Next targets: Gojo and Geto."
No. It wouldn't be that simple.
Those two were genuine prodigies, arrogant down to the marrow. Flattery and well-chosen gifts wouldn't work on them. There was only one way to earn their acceptance: demonstrate the kind of strength that made them think this one deserves to stand beside us. Or... demonstrate something close to madness.
Touma glanced out the window. The sky was bleeding into dusk.
[Consume one charge to initiate simulation?]
"Yes."
[Equipped Cards (4/4): Simulator [UR], Cursed Energy Allergy [N], Bearing Insults and Heavy Burdens [R], Thin Presence [N]]
[Simulation Begin!]
[Day Two]
[Because you joined mid-term, homeroom teacher Masamichi Yaga didn't launch straight into a lecture.]
[Yaga stood at the podium with arms crossed, the eyes behind his dark glasses sweeping over the four students below.]
["Since we have a new classmate, let's start with something simple to help everyone get acquainted."]
[He wrote one word on the blackboard: INTELLIGENCE.]
["Each of you will demonstrate and explain your Innate Technique. In the jujutsu world, knowing what your ally can do is often the difference between life and death."]
[A single second of silence, broken by a derisive scoff.]
[Gojo hadn't even taken his feet off the desk. Sunglasses on, gum snapping between his teeth, wearing the expression of someone forced to sit through a children's tea party.]
["Hah? Is this really necessary, Yaga-sensei?"]
["Feet off the desk!"]
[Yaga snatched a piece of chalk from the lectern and hurled it like a bullet.]
[The chalk screamed toward Gojo's face, froze a fraction of a second before impact, and clattered to the floor.]
["Limitless. As long as I want it, nothing touches me. I'm the strongest. That's all you need to remember."]
[He turned deliberately toward you, that vicious grin in full force.]
["Hey, new kid. If you ever run into danger, forget about that pathetic trickle of Cursed Energy you've got. You're better off screaming 'Lord Gojo, save me!' Trust me, way more effective."]
[None of this surprised you. Even Yaga's expression, that familiar mix of disapproval and resignation, matched your memories exactly.]
[It was still early days. Gojo and the others had barely started at the school. Any semblance of restraint on his part was still a long way off.]
[Beside Gojo, Geto shook his head with a weary smile. He looked more polished, more civil, but the same bone-deep pride ran through him like a mirror image.]
["Satoru, don't scare the new student."]
[Geto raised one hand. The shadow behind him churned, and a hideous Cursed Spirit radiating Semi-Grade 2 energy oozed into view, coiling obediently around his shoulder.]
["Cursed Spirit Manipulation."]
[His gaze settled on you, warm and patient, the way someone might explain addition to a grade schooler.]
["I subjugate and control Cursed Spirits. I've got a few hundred in stock at the moment. If you ever need a sparring partner, I could lend you a couple to play with."]
[The tone was that of a boy showing off his toy collection. Polite on the surface, untouchably distant beneath.]
[Shoko, the only girl in the room, lay slumped across her desk with faint dark circles under her eyes, spinning her lighter between her fingers.]
["Reverse Cursed Technique. Can't use it to fight, but as long as you're not completely dead, I can pull you back."]
[She clearly remembered your gift from yesterday. Her eyes flicked toward you.]
["Basically, I'm the cleanup crew for these idiots who don't know how to not get themselves killed. Touma, if you get hurt, remember you get to skip the line."]
[The three demonstrations ended. A brief silence settled over the classroom, and every pair of eyes drifted to you in the corner.]
[Yaga nodded in your direction.]
["Touma Hayase. Your turn. I've read yesterday's combat report, but I want to hear your own understanding of your technique."]
[Gojo whistled, pushed his sunglasses down to expose one pale blue eye, and studied you with open amusement.]
[Geto adjusted his posture, as though anticipating whatever meager trick the transfer student might produce.]
[You didn't move.]
[You sat perfectly still, hands flat on your knees, expression so detached you might have been somewhere else entirely.]
[One second... Two... Ten....]
["Oi, new kid."]
[Gojo rapped his pen against the desk.]
["Cat got your tongue? Even if your technique is garbage, just say it out loud. 'My technique makes paper flowers' or whatever. We'll clap for you, promise."]
[Geto's brow creased.]
["Hayase?"]
[Under the weight of every stare in the room, you finally moved.]
[No hand signs. No flare of Cursed Energy. Not even a change in the rhythm of your breathing.]
[You raised one hand and pushed your black-framed glasses up the bridge of your nose. Light caught the lenses in a cold flash.]
["Gojo. Geto."]
[Your voice was calm. Quiet, but it carried to every corner of the room.]
["I think you've got the wrong idea about something."]
["Hah?"]
[Gojo's eyebrow shot up.]
[You looked straight into those legendary Six Eyes and spoke without a tremor.]
["My demonstration started the moment I walked into this classroom."]
["What did you say?"]
[Geto's eyes narrowed. He was Special Grade. How had he not sensed a single trace of a technique activating?]
["My technique is called Phantom Night Parade."]
[The words came unhurried, measured.]
["The effect is straightforward: analysis. Through physical contact or sensing someone's Cursed Energy, I can decode the structure and principles behind their technique."]
[Your gaze shifted to Gojo. No fear. If anything, it carried the cool precision of a researcher examining a specimen.]
["Take your Limitless, for example. To most people, it's an impenetrable wall. But to me, it reads as the paradox of Achilles and the tortoise made real. You're not blocking attacks. You're running constant calculations on the mass, velocity, and shape of every object that approaches you, filtering what gets through and what doesn't. The computational load is enormous. Even your brain is under constant strain, which is why you're always eating sweets to keep your blood sugar up. Am I wrong?"]
[The grin vanished from Gojo's face.]
[He sat bolt upright. Those pale blue eyes locked onto you like targeting sights.]
[These details were known only to the innermost circle of the Gojo Clan and the highest-ranking sorcerers in the organization.]
[And yet here you were. A transfer student he'd met once. You had seen through everything at a glance.]