Chapter 4: Special Treatment for a Transfer Student
Tokyo Jujutsu High sat deep in the mountains on the outskirts of Tokyo, hidden behind layer upon layer of protective barriers.
Ancient torii gates stood in silence beneath the moonlight. Weathered stone steps climbed through the quiet grounds, and the faint scent of sandalwood lingered in the air. It was a place steeped in age and solemnity.
This was the cradle of jujutsu sorcerers.
And just as often, their grave.
Following behind Satoru Gojo, Yami stepped into the centuries old school grounds and felt an odd sense of familiarity rise within him. Perhaps it was the influence of Yoriichi Tsugikuni's template, but he found himself instinctively drawn to this kind of ancient architecture.
"Hey, Satoru."
A deep voice suddenly rang out.
"You really brought some random nobody back just like that?"
As soon as they reached the teaching building, a broad shouldered middle aged man wearing sunglasses stepped forward and blocked their path.
Masamichi Yaga.
Principal of Tokyo Jujutsu High.
And Gojo Satoru's former homeroom teacher.
At that moment, he was scrutinizing Yami with a sharp, critical gaze.
"No cursed energy."
"His physical ability is decent, but he's still just an ordinary person."
Yaga's brows furrowed deeply.
"Satoru, this isn't a charity."
Gojo kept his hands in his pockets and walked up with his usual lazy grin.
"Don't be so stiff, Principal Yaga."
"This kid's got potential."
"Potential?"
Yaga let out a faint scoff and waved his hand.
"Then show me what's so special about him."
Before his words had even fully fallen, the stuffed dolls lying quietly at his feet suddenly stirred.
Cursed Corpses.
Artificial bodies infused with cursed energy.
Though they looked like harmless plush toys at first glance, each one possessed enough strength to tear apart a full grown adult.
"Go."
The instant Yaga gave the order, three Cursed Corpses sprang up at once, slicing through the air as they lunged at Yami from three different directions.
They were fast.
So fast that an ordinary person would not even have time to blink before being pinned to the ground.
Yaga had no intention of seriously injuring him. He only meant to issue a warning and force the boy to retreat on his own.
But in the very next second, the principal's expression changed.
Yami did not draw a weapon.
He did not even make an extra movement.
He merely shifted slightly, his steps suddenly turning light and fluid, almost like a dance.
The first Cursed Corpse's claws brushed past the edge of his clothes.
The second's flying kick was redirected with the lightest touch, sending it crashing straight into the third.
In a single exchange, the three aggressive Cursed Corpses were thrown into complete disarray.
Yet Yami, standing at the center of it all, remained completely untouched.
Not even a single strand of hair had fallen out of place.
"This is..."
Yaga froze.
There had been no cursed energy fluctuation at all.
That movement was pure physical skill taken to an absurd extreme.
"Kagura Dance," Yami murmured softly.
Though his role playing progress was still only at 1%, the Hinokami Kagura he had unlocked already carried the embryonic traits of the Transparent World.
To his eyes, the Cursed Corpses' movements were riddled with openings.
Too slow.
Compared to that evolved cursed spirit from earlier, these things might as well have been moving in slow motion.
"Do we continue?"
Yami stopped and looked calmly at Yaga.
His dark red eyes were tranquil.
There was no fear in them, no youthful arrogance, no attempt to show off.
Only stillness.
Yaga raised a hand, and the agitated Cursed Corpses instantly halted before obediently retreating to his feet.
"Not bad."
"But the world of sorcerers isn't a place where you survive just by dodging."
He stepped forward, looking down at Yami with the natural pressure of a Grade 1 sorcerer.
"Tell me, kid. What do you fight for?"
"For power?"
"For some self righteous idea of justice?"
"If your resolve is half baked, you'll die an ugly death."
Sorcerers were people who lived side by side with death.
Every day, they confronted curses born from twisted human emotions and all the terror that came with them.
Without conviction, they either broke or went mad.
Gojo leaned lazily against a nearby pillar, watching the exchange with interest and making no move to interfere.
He wanted to hear the answer too.
What kind of conviction would this strange boy give?
Yami fell silent for a moment.
He remembered the desperate high school couple in that ruined building.
He remembered the security guard being chewed apart by a monster.
Then, one after another, faces from the original story flashed through his mind.
People who should have had brighter futures.
People who should not have died the way they did.
Riko Amanai.
Yu Haibara.
Kento Nanami.
Nobara Kugisaki.
The memories passed through him like a silent current.
Yami slowly lifted his head and met Yaga's oppressive gaze head on.
When he spoke, his voice was not loud.
But every word was clear.
"I just want to cut through the spirals of sorrow that should never have existed."
"This world already has too many regrets."
"If I have the power to change that, then why shouldn't I?"
The answer was simple.
Pure.
Maybe even a little naive.
But paired with Yami's clear, unwavering eyes, those words carried a force that struck straight into the heart.
That was Yoriichi Tsugikuni's belief.
And it was also Yami's own resolve as someone who had come into this world carrying knowledge of its tragedies.
Yaga went still.
Over the years, he had heard all kinds of answers.
Some fought for money.
Some for status.
Some for family.
But this was the first time he had seen someone so purely driven by the desire to protect, and to change what should not have happened.
This boy had no cursed energy.
Yet his soul burned brighter than that of many sorcerers.
A long silence followed.
Then Yaga suddenly let out a low chuckle, though the expression on his face remained as stiff as ever.
"You pass."
"Put your things away, then go get fitted for your uniform."
With that, he turned and walked off, his back seeming just a little lighter than before.
"Satoru."
He did not look back.
"Don't let him die."
"Of course."
Gojo grinned and immediately slung an arm around Yami's shoulders.
"What did I tell you? Total diamond in the rough."
"Principal Yaga's actually a softie. He was probably happy on the inside just now."
Yami let out a helpless sigh.
It seemed his life here was not going to be boring.
Then Gojo casually pulled a folder from his pocket and tossed it toward a nearby filing cabinet.
Or at least, it should have been the filing cabinet.
The way he threw it made it look more like he was pitching trash.
The file was labeled:
First Year.
"Welcome to the class, Yami."
Gojo's grin widened mischievously.
"By the way, one vessel and one genius are already reserved among your classmates."
"Now we've added another monster."
He gave Yami a firm pat on the back.
"This year at Jujutsu High is going to be very lively."
At the same time, far away at the Zenin estate in Kyoto, a short haired girl was wiping down her cursed tools when she suddenly sneezed.
She frowned and looked up irritably.
"Who the hell is talking about me?"