Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

To any outside observer, Itadori Choso might come off as intimidating, scary; a delinquent. He’s gotten looks on the street more times than he can count when people take note of the mark across his nose and his dark eye bags, and his reserved demeanor does little to help this perception of him. But to those who know him past the sliver of his icy facade— classmates, elderly ladies in his neighborhood, the grocers who serve him during the weekly shop when his grandfather can’t do it— know that he is a well-behaved student with good grades, a kind young man who helps old women across the street, and a loving grandson who does everything he can for his family, especially his baby brother.

He mostly keeps to himself; no after-school club to attend— despite his grandfather’s insistent nagging that he join one— because Yuji has to be picked up from his daycare after Choso’s school day ends, and their grandfather doesn’t finish work until five— no friends to waste away any freetime with, as he keeps a respectable distance from his classmates, and his little part-time job at the weekend leaves little time for things like hanging out. But Choso prefers it this way. 

He’s never connected with other children quite the same way. He’s got one foot in a completely different world than they do, has known it for a long, long time, and finding anyone to understand that is a task in-and-of-itself, one that he doesn’t see the point in giving effort, because the risk toward his family is too great.

The chilly early October air does little to Choso, really, but he sinks his nose further into the scarf wrapped around his neck anyway- it’d be a waste if he didn’t use and appreciate the gift his grandfather got him…

His walk home from school is uneventful as always, but today, he takes a detour from the usual route towards the daycare and sets course for the edge of their neighborhood, a promise he’d made to a friend of his grandfather at the forefront of his mind. Nishizawa-san happened upon him at the supermarket the other weekend and initiated a one-sided conversation, as the old woman is like to do, and Choso did as he usually does- smiling politely and nodding, adding a few ‘Is that so?’’s and other short conversation carriers- but when she started to lament about terrible noises and scratching outside of her house late at night, his attention was caught. 

”Rats, I think…” She said, ”I keep telling that Hoga to be more careful with his garbage, but he never listens! I don’t know how they don’t drive him crazy, too.”

The offer to clean the area for her when he could was past his lips before he could think about it.

She always had sweet treats for Yuji whenever they crossed paths. It was the least he could do for her. 

Nishizawa-san’s small one story house comes into view, but Choso can already sense the curses that congregate in one area- a troublesome infestation that could easily become a worse problem if left untouched. He kneels at a nearby wall to tuck his school bag and scarf safely against it and out of the damage-zone, and makes his way into the dark gap between Nishizawa-san and Hoga-san’s homes. 

The alley appears normal- cursed energy aside- with two old looking garbage cans at the wall of Hoga-san’s home, three sealed bags placed around the bottom. When he steps closer, then he can see them.

A cluster of curses— all black as night, with small bodies that might resemble cats, if it weren’t for their long, long , human-like fingers that seem uncomfortable to walk on, how their back legs bend backwards as if simply placed on wrong, and dozens upon dozens of eyes on their many heads that each seem to hang limp from their necks like corpses, and half emerging from the darkness as if they were truly made from it— lurk within the shadows between and behind the cans, hissing and clawing one another as they seem to fight over which of their pack gets shoved down and into the inky dark shadows, and which get to enjoy the open air and dig through the trash cans. So preoccupied with their scuffles, they don’t notice Choso’s light footsteps as he creeps closer. The way they almost fuse together in the goopy mix of their bodies and the shadows might have convinced him that this was one larger curse.

The weaker the curses, the more they flock together, as his mother had taught him. 

Just the thought of her is enough to sour his expression like he’d just bit into a lemon.

In the split second moment that he gets distracted by his own thoughts, the curses seem to finally notice him.

One of them shrieks- a piercing scream that sounds like a child’s own, but off-key like a dissonant piano note. He flinches and barely resists covering his ears from the assault, but that’s enough for the pack of curses to feel brave and make the first move.

A handful dart out from the cans and scurry towards him, their digits too long for the relatively short limbs they’re attached to- the curses trip often, and their fingers bend and snap and remain at the odd angle they now sit in until the next trip up, where they bend and snap and break over and over again. The broken fingers weep the same inky, shadowy substance that the curses seem to be composed of— in the light of the soon-to-be-setting sun, it almost looks like they’re made of tar, translucent bodies appearing blackish-brown and sluggishly dripping to the ground with every movement.

Before the curses can get close to touching him, Choso crouches down and wills his cursed technique to form. Black blood drips from his mark and falls, multiple droplets suspending in the air and turning a bright crimson as they begin to merge, spin and flatten into two razor-sharp discs.

One of the grotesque curses screams and lunges for his face, long fingers ready to dig deep into his eye sockets— and falls to the ground in two pieces that quickly begin to disintegrate. 

The blood chakram rotates idly by Choso’s head when it returns from its short journey. The rest of the pack waste no time in charging towards their deaths.

The chakrams speed toward the oncoming cluster that clamor over each other in a desperate bid to be the first one to kill. Quick work is made of them; the curses now nothing more than small disappearing bodies at his feet in less than the blink of an eye.

Choso takes a step back to leave and finally pick up his little brother, but frantic movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention. A straggler.

Reaching for one of the chakrams, it condenses back into a small ball of blood within Choso’s palm and reforms into a dagger. Without bothering to take a step closer, he throws it, guiding the blood to aim just where he wants it to, and— it pierces right through its torso, and the curse lets out one final scream before it’s fading away.

Choso holds a hand out and calls the blood back to him, which floats easily in his palm and absorbs back into his skin. He squints at the wall where it hit… and cringes internally, when he sees the sizable chip in the brickwork.

…He’ll say it was always there, if anyone ever asks.

He heaves a quiet sigh of relief at a job done and turns to leave.

“That was rather impressive, young man.”

Choso startles, the chakram he’d yet to reabsorb melting and dropping to the floor in a large red puddle as a gasp of surprise leaves him.

The man who managed to sneak up on him is large, practically towers over Choso’s own height of five foot six- he can only estimate the man to be six foot one, maybe two- and muscular enough to be more than intimidating too, if he wanted to be. If his sudden presence wasn’t enough to put Choso on immediate guard, then the cursed energy around the man sure as hell is .

While his unease around sorcerers was imparted to him by that woman for all the wrong reasons, Choso is more than aware of how dangerous it is for him to be on anybody’s radar.

He bristles and takes a defensive step back into the alley. He’ll jump the brick wall at the end of it if he needs to. 

“Who are you.” Choso bites out.

The man raises his hands, palms facing outwards in a show of surrender. “Easy. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Choso simply stares. The stranger lets out a quiet huff when he realises he won’t let his guard down yet, so he continues.

“My name is Yaga Masamichi. May I know who I’m speaking to?”

The motion to respond is automatic, the politeness ingrained into him by his grandfather second nature, but Choso clicks his teeth shut and frowns. “What do you want?”

The standoffishness doesn’t seem to bother him that much, now he knows what he’s dealing with. Yaga nods his head toward Choso and the alley, “I don’t want anything- I’m only curious to know what was happening here. Do you know what those creatures are?”

He’s damn stubborn, Choso will give him that. It seems like he won’t be letting up this questioning any time soon. With a sigh, he stands up straight and folds his arms across his chest. The sooner this is over with, the better. “...It would be foolish to deal with them if I didn’t. They were curses.”

Surprise flickers across the older man’s face, which then seems to settle into understanding. “I see. If you know that much, I assume you’re aware of sorcerers as well?”

He gives a half-hearted shrug.

“...I’ll take that as a yes,” Yaga huffs, “Then you should already know of Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School. While I am a sorcerer, I’m also a teacher there, guiding young sorcerers such as yourself.”

Choso’s eyes widen. “Tokyo?” He squints at Yaga, “Why are you in Sendai, then?” And- he said sorcerers like himself. He really can’t sense his half-curse nature? That explains why the man is so calm, then… Some anxiety eases away.

Though he hides it well, Yaga still looks a bit too pleased to have gotten his full attention. “Like I said, I’m a sorcerer, too. It often takes priority over my teaching. I had a mission in the city and happened to be in the area when I felt the cursed energy of the cursed spirits and yourself. You controlled your technique quite well, young man. Who taught you?”

His mother flashes into mind, but… She didn’t really teach him much, since she had no technique to do so. She was able to give ‘tips’ and pointers from her memory using it, but the usefulness of those ranged from bad to unusable. She didn’t really care about teaching him, and it showed. Everything he’s managed to do, he’s learnt on his own.

“I taught myself.”

The look of surprise returns to Yaga’s face, “Really? That’s truly impressive- especially considering it appeared to be Blood Manipulation. That’s very difficult to learn without guidance.”

Choso shrugs. “I’ve gotten by fine without it.”

Yaga goes quiet as he examines Choso and his words. A small frown pulls at his lips that’s offset by soft, sad eyes. Whatever he’s thinking, Choso has no idea. Then, he speaks up.

“Young man—”

“Itadori.”

Yaga blinks. “Hm?”

He averts his eyes. What the hell is he doing? Too late to back out, now. “...My name is Itadori Choso. Calling me ‘young man’ repeatedly was getting old.”

The sorcerer takes a second to process- and when he does, he smiles. “Itadori. It’s good to meet you. Would it be possible for me to speak to your parents- or guardians?”

Choso blinks, caught off-guard. “My- what? Why do you need to talk to them?”

“Because,” he begins, “I would like to talk to them about the possibility of enrolling you at Tokyo Jujutsu High at the start of the next semester.”

What?

“What?”

If Yaga notices the shock on his face, he says nothing, simply continues on, “I think a young man like you has great potential as a sorcerer, Itadori. You would still get the education you would in a non-sorcerer high school, but we will teach you how to better control and master your cursed technique. It’s a big decision, I know- That’s why I’d like to speak to whoever takes care of you.”

He’s too stunned to speak.

Because, really— what? Yaga has only just met Choso, yet he already wants to offer him a position at the school? Does he offer every random child with a technique a chance to attend? He doesn’t even know if he’s close to finishing middle school and he’s already asking. Would they really wait two, three years for him to get to high school age just to attend, like some sort of fancy private school?

Considering what little he knows of the school from Kaori’s run-downs, he knows they pose as a ‘religious’ school, so, he supposes it makes sense for them to have an enrolment system like that- but, really… It hasn’t even been twenty minutes since he met this man. If Choso were anyone else, he might think of Yaga as just some creep. He deeply hopes this isn’t the recruitment tactic used by all sorcerers…

“...Tokyo is far. You’re asking me to move to an entirely new city.”

Yaga nods, “It is far, regrettably, but it is only one of two schools for sorcerers. The other is even further, in Kyoto.”

Choso’s nose scrunches at the thought. Do sorcerers hate convenience? “I don’t like the idea of leaving my family on their own.”

“I understand. This is a choice that shouldn’t be made lightly.”

The following silence allows him to give it more thought, which he’s grateful for. Tokyo is very far. Farther than he’s ever been from home. His grandfather might not have a problem with it— he always wants Choso to experience new things and meet new people after all, despite his introvertedness— but it would also mean being away from Yuji… The very thought makes him nauseous. What if something were to happen to their grandfather while he was away? What if something happened to Yuji? What if she came back while he was away?

But, at the same time… The Tokyo school is where the rest of his siblings are. If he were there… He might have a chance to bring them all home.

It’s his duty as the eldest to do everything he can for his siblings.

Choso slips a hand into his pants pockets and pulls out his phone to check the time. 4:15… It’ll take about 15 minutes to get to Yuji’s daycare and another 15 for the walk home. If he brought Yaga with him, he would have to keep him occupied in the time it takes for his grandfather to get home… Choso has never really been the host type, but he has a feeling it’ll be better to get this conversation done as soon as possible. Yaga didn’t say how long he’ll remain in Sendai, or if he even can- Sorcerers are always busy, right? In any other scenario, it would be downright stupid to invite a stranger to his home only ten minutes after meeting him— but this isn’t exactly an ordinary scenario, and neither of them ordinary people. 

He takes a breath, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He looks Yaga in the eyes, “My grandfather finishes work in forty five minutes, but won’t be home until 5:30. If you can wait that long to meet him, then I can bring you to our home.”

Yaga smiles immediately and nods, “Of course, that’s fine. I’m happy to wait as long as necessary.”

Choso hums in acknowledgement, then moves past Yaga to the wall where he’d left his things- wrapping the scarf neatly around his neck and putting his bag around his shoulder to free his hands. “Okay. Follow me, then. But I have to pick up my little brother first.”

The man blinks and echoes “Little brother?” quietly, but Choso has already turned heel and set off on the memorised path to the daycare. He hears Yaga sigh behind him before he hears the footsteps following along.

The walk takes as long as Choso predicted it would, and the journey is made in silence. He’s thankful that Yaga makes no attempts to start conversation.

The brightly colored but small building comes into view, and Choso comes to a stop. He turns to Yaga. “Wait here.”

He grunts in acknowledgement and seems content to stand by the wall for now.

Choso enters through the glass doors and into the entry room, the front desk at the center of the back wall and manned by one of the daycare workers, who perks up at the sight of Choso.

“Itadori-kun!” She smiles. “Here to pick up Yuji?”

Choso bows his head, “Yes. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble to keep him for a little longer, Ueda-san.”

Ueda chuckles and shakes her head. “Not at all! Yuji is a delight to have, and he’s certainly not the first or last child we take care of at this time. I’ll go and get him.”

“Thank you,” Choso bows again as Ueda steps through into the hall to his left. Within only a minute, he can hear a distant and loud cheer, and then a few moments later, Ueda returns through the doorway trailed by a small body with a fluffy head of pink hair, clutching onto the straps of his backpack in front of him. When he sees Choso, he grins and squeals and practically sprints over, crashing into Choso’s leg as he wraps little arms around it to hug him.

“Nii-chan!”

He can’t help but smile in return, ruffling Yuji’s hair affectionately. “Hello, Yuji,” Choso leans down and takes Yuji’s bag, sliding it onto his arm and out of the way, and slides his hands under Yuji’s arms to lift the boy and hold him against his chest, supported by his arm. “Did you have fun today?”

Yuji nods enthusiastically and rapidly, enough for Choso to get concerned about his poor little neck and put a hand on his head to stop him, to which his little brother only giggles and smiles brightly. “Mhm! Fun!” He swings his feet idly from where they’re wrapped around Choso’s torso, “Nii-chan, hungry!”

Choso chuckles and pokes the boy's cheek, “You’re always hungry, you’ve got a black-hole stomach. I’ll make you something to eat when we get home before I start dinner, okay?”

Yuji hums, thinking about it as his little mind processes, then nods rapidly again, “Okay!”

He smiles at Yuji, then looks back to Ueda, who’s watching the scene with a small smile of her own, and he bows his head once more. “Thank you again for looking after Yuji.”

She moves back behind the desk and straightens out some papers behind there, waving her hand. “It’s our pleasure, really! See you tomorrow, Itadori-kun, Yuji-chan!”

Choso’s own “Goodbye” is overshadowed by Yuji’s louder “BYE!” as he waves at Ueda over Choso’s shoulder. He suppresses another laugh, but can’t stop the smile on his lips.

When he’s back outside and returns to Yaga, the older man stands up straight, and his gaze immediately darts to the young boy in his arms. Yuji catches sight of the man too, and stares back with large and curious eyes.

“This is your brother?” Yaga questions, looking between Yuji and Choso inquisitively.

Immediately, before Choso can even say anything, Yuji puffs out his cheeks and glares at Yaga in the most threatening way a round-faced 18 month old can manage— which is to say, not at all. He folds his small arms across his chest too and seems to be sizing Yaga up.

“Yuji…” Choso sighs, poking his little brother in the stomach to break his sudden seriousness, and it works when he gives a startled giggle and pushes Choso’s hand away and turns a betrayed pout towards his brother.

Yaga laughs as well, but tries to cover it up with a cough as he looks off to the side, “I can see the resemblance.”

Choso tilts his head, wondering if he’s just saying that for the sake of not upsetting Yuji any further, or because he really means it. He doesn’t think they look alike, even though they share the same mother. Yuji got way more of Jin’s genes than he did of Kaori’s.

“Yuji, this is Yaga-san. He’s a guest today, so be nice.”

Yuji looks up into his big brother's eyes, and Choso nods. He juts out his bottom lip as he thinks. He turns back to Yaga and says, “Hi, Yaga-san!” with his signature big grin to match.

Yaga, surprisingly, bows in turn and gives Yuji a warm smile when he straightens back up, “It’s nice to meet you, Yuji-kun.”

The boy seems satisfied with that and starts humming the opening music to a show he likes as he gets distracted by something in the distance- a bug, if Choso had to guess.

“There’s no more stops to make, so we can be on our way now,” he tells Yaga. The sorcerer nods, and follows Choso’s lead once more as he directs them to the house.

The trip home was lively with the addition of Yuji, who was more than happy to fill any silence by singing and humming whatever songs came to his head, and pointing at everything he saw with a loud declaration of what it was, like “Puppy!” or “Car!”, and Choso would nod and ask him things like “What kind of puppy?” (“Fluffy!”) or “What color is it?” (“Black, Nii-chan’s favorite!”)

Yaga was silent once again for the journey, but he knew he was paying attention by the muted chuckles coming from the man at his little brother’s antics.

Once inside the home, Choso and Yaga slip their shoes off, and Choso sets Yuji on the step to help him take off his own. Once they’re off and set to the side, Yuji is bounding off into the house on his little legs and into the living room. For such a young child, he sure has a lot of energy.

Yaga and Choso stand in the genkan in awkward silence before Choso speaks up, “...The living room and kitchen are this way. Would you like anything to drink?”

Yaga follows Choso’s outstretched hand in the direction of the doorway Yuji ran through just to the left of them. “Tea, if it’s not a problem. Whatever kind you have.”

Choso nods and steps up into the hall and through the doorway, Yaga following behind. The kitchen and living room combined aren’t huge by any means, but they can comfortably occupy the three— later four— of them just fine. Yuji has already placed himself upon the couch and swings his legs off the edge, waiting for Choso to turn the TV on for him, since he’s yet to figure out exactly how the buttons work. He does just that, grabbing the remote from the table in front of the couch, pressing the power button and putting in the number for the kids channel Yuji loves, giving the boy’s head a ruffle as he walks past and into the adjoined kitchen.

He pulls out a chair from the dining table and gestures for Yaga to make himself comfortable while Choso walks over to the kitchen area, grabbing the electric kettle from its stand and filling it up from the sink faucet. It’s set back down and set to boil, so he occupies himself with pulling a suitable mug from the cupboards and the right kind of tea. He might just go with Sencha- it’s always a safe bet.

He glances at the clock while the water boils, doing the mental math of when Wasuke will arrive. The tell-tale flick of the kettle stopping diverts his attention once more. He allows the water to cool for a moment longer before he adds it into the mug with the tea bag, and allows it to steep. Once he deems it sufficiently steeped enough, Choso removes the teabag and brings the complete mug over to Yaga, along with a small bowl of sugar cubes and a teaspoon, if he wants them.

“Thank you.” Yaga says as he accepts the mug. Choso watches him add one sugar cube and stir it.

He nods his head, “Grandpa should be home in the next forty minutes or so. I hope you don’t mind if I start preparing dinner in the meantime.”

“That’s alright. Don’t let my being here stop what you need to do.”

Choso nods and turns back to the kitchen, opening the fridge and retrieving a small bag of apple slices and grapes. He tears open the bag and puts the fruits in a small bowl, then heads back into the living room and hands it over to Yuji. “Here’s a snack. What do you think we should have for dinner, Yuji?”

The boy beams and makes grabby hands for the bowl, biting into the soft apple slices with his little teeth. “Mmm…” Yuji hums as he thinks for a long moment, “...Curry!”

Choso chuckles. “You always want curry, but okay. Curry it is. I’m sure Grandpa won’t mind.”

Returning to the kitchen, he grabs all that he needs to get started on the curry- measuring and washing the rice and placing it into the cooker, placing a pot on the stove for the broth and vegetables, and removing his school jacket and rolling up his sleeves to cut said vegetables into small digestible shapes for Yuji. Though he isn’t facing him most of the time, Choso can tell Yaga isn’t trying to seem too nosy as he blatantly stares at the photos along the walls- of Jin, Kaori, younger photos of Choso and Yuji. To his credit, he doesn’t ask, and time passes quickly.

As he adds the sliced vegetables to the pot and pours the water to level, Choso hears the front door open and close, then- “I’m home.”

Choso turns the stove hob to its lowest setting and steps closer to the dining table, in view of the hall doorway, Yaga looking up at the new voice as well as Wasuke steps into the living room. “Choso, who’s shoes are at the door? Did you bring a friend round—” He pauses and blinks at the sight of Yaga at the table. The man is already standing and bowing politely.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Itadori-san,” Yaga says, “My name is Yaga Masamichi. I was hoping to speak with you about something regarding your grandson.”

Wasuke only looks more confused than he did, throwing a questioning glance to Choso, who can only give a half-shrug, as he’s not entirely sure how to explain the situation through facial expressions alone. 

His grandfather frowns. He greets Yuji and gives the boy's hair a ruffle (much to his delight), leaving his work bag on the couch. When he steps into the dining and kitchen area, it’s almost impressive how he manages to metaphorically tower over Yaga with his energy alone, despite their size difference. “Is he in trouble?” He asks.

Yaga shakes his head, “No, no, not at all. I’d like to discuss his future.”

Wasuke raises an eyebrow and looks Yaga up and down. “Hm… Choso wouldn’t bring you here for no reason. I’ll hear you out. Let’s sit.”

Yaga nods, returning to his seat, and Wasuke rounds the table to the other side and pulls out the two chairs for both him and Choso. He doesn’t need to be told twice to take it, and settles into the chair while his grandfather sits across from Yaga. 

“Well, Yaga, what do you mean by his future? ”

Straight to business as always. Yaga doesn’t look thrown off by it though.

“I’m a teacher- I work at Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School, a… private religious school. I’d like to discuss the possibility of enrolling Itadori-kun to become a student when he’s finished with middle school.”

Wasuke’s eyes widen. “Jujutsu?” he squints, “You’re a sorcerer.”

Yaga pauses- then nods, “...I am. I wasn’t sure if you were familiar with sorcery and jujutsu society or not.”

His grandfather grunts, “I know enough, but I’m not one of you. Does that ‘religious school’ shit ever work?”

He doesn’t seem to be expecting such language, but he recovers quickly by clearing his throat and putting on an expression of neutrality. “It… works most of the time.”

Wasuke hums. “Why do you want my grandson at your school, then?”

“After seeing Itadori and his cursed technique in action, I believe that with the right guidance he could come to wield it to its full potential and become a great sorcerer. Jujutsu isn’t the only thing taught, however- He will still have access to the same curriculum taught at normal non-sorcerer high schools, such as math, science and languages, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

He raises another eyebrow, this time directed at Choso. “You were in a fight?”

Choso shakes his head to defend himself, before he gets any wrong ideas, “It was just that favor for Nishizawa-san,”

“Ah,” he relaxes, “Good.” The attention turns back to Yaga with a glare. “And how did you find him? Were you following him?”

Yaga suddenly looks flustered, putting his hands up in defense, “No, no! Nothing like that, I promise you. It was purely by chance that I met him. I had been in the area dealing with another matter and felt his cursed energy, and found him when I went to investigate it. That’s all.”

The glare thrown his way lasts a few moments longer, waiting to see if Yaga will crack under the pressure. When he doesn’t, Wasuke huffs and folds his arms over his chest, accepting it. “Hm. Good.”

Wasuke doesn’t waste any time in keeping the now-basically-an-interrogation going. “Tokyo is far. I dont take it that you’ll expect or let him study here in Sendai.”

“No. He would be living on campus, in the student dormitories,” Yaga admits. “But the school resides within Tengen-sama’s barrier, and only those with permission are allowed to enter the premises. It’s the safest place he could be.”

“What about the classes? How many students are there?”

“...Admittedly, the classes are small. Sorcerers make up only a small number of the population, and finding them is even harder since we have no accurate way of doing so. At most, the number of students in one class might be around five, or six, and at the least, there could be two. It all depends on how many students enroll before the semester starts.”

Wasuke hums. He gives a side glance towards Choso, but he can’t tell what the man is thinking.

Before Wasuke can say anything more, Yaga speaks up again, “If I might ask- how old is Itadori-kun?”

“You didn’t tell him?” Wasuke asks Choso.

He shrugs, “He didn’t ask before.”

Wasuke snorts and shakes his head. “Choso just turned fifteen. He’s graduating middle school next spring. Lucky timing for you.”

Yaga blinks in surprise, “Is that so? What a coincidence.”

His grandfather grunts, “Mhm. Now, you said he would get the same lessons he’d get in a normal school, but what exactly does teaching him to become a sorcerer entail?”

The man straightens, easily falling into his role of teacher. “Well, each class is taught by a professional sorcerer who can help the students gain better control and understanding of their technique, and how they can best apply it against cursed spirits. They are taught self defense and combat, weapons training, and how to safely and efficiently exorcise curses— all of which are closely supervised by the sorcerer teaching them to ensure that they come to no harm.”

Wasuke frowns. “It sounds like they’ll be doing a lot of fighting. How can I be certain that Choso will be safe?”

Yaga looks down at his hands, folding them together, before he looks Wasuke in the eyes. “...Itadori-san. Truthfully, to say that he would never come to harm would be a lie that I am not comfortable telling. Being a sorcerer is not easy, and cursed spirits, especially ones in a city like Tokyo, are incredibly dangerous to deal with. Unprepared and inexperienced sorcerers have a very high risk of dying to curses. That’s why, when I saw Itadori-kun today- while I was impressed with his skills, I was also concerned of what could potentially happen to him if he were left to deal with cursed spirits on his own like he has been.”

Wasuke’s frown deepens, and his brows furrow in thought.

For Choso, the curses in Sendai aren’t a problem. Exorcising them is an easy task— but… even he can’t deny that if he were to come face to face with something like a Grade 1 or Grade 2 on his own, he might struggle more than he’s used to. Despite his age, even now he’s still getting used to his body as he grows. That might be what every human teenager feels too, actually… 

His confidence in his technique hasn’t failed him yet, but if it ever does? It could have dire consequences- for his family, for Yuji.

His grandfather’s hum breaks Choso out of his thoughts. 

“I can’t say I’m happy about it, but I appreciate your honesty.”

The sorcerer bows his head. “While my words can’t mean as much as action will, I promise you that Itadori-kun’s safety will always, always come first. Even if I must put my own safety on the line, should he be under my care, him and any other students will always be the priority.”

Yaga is scrutinized under Wasuke’s gaze. After a moment, he nods. “...I see. My next question, then—”

“Nii-chaaannn…”

Choso blinks, looking down at Yuji who tugs on his arm.

“Hungry.”

Wasuke laughs, “Such an impatient little brat, huh, Yuji?” he pats a hand onto Choso’s shoulder. “You should get dinner going so he doesn’t have a tantrum, then. We’ll finish up this discussion.”

He looks at his grandfather with a tilt, asking if he’s sure. When he gives a nod of affirmation, Choso exhales and returns it. He stands out of his chair, tucking it back under the table, and picks up Yuji. “Alright, alright. You went through all the fruit already, huh? Do you want to help me put in the curry roux?”

“Yeah!” He cheers, swinging his legs excitedly.

Wasuke watches Choso and Yuji stand at the kitchen stove, the young boy clinging to his older brother’s chest and supported by his arm. He turns his focus back to Yaga, lowering his tone of voice, “...If Choso were to go, how will he be taken care of? You said something about dormitories.”

The look of whiplash on the sorcerer’s face almost makes Wasuke laugh. Yaga clears his throat.

“Yes. On the campus, all the students live in dormitories separated by year. We like to encourage the children to be independent, so within the same building they share a communal kitchen and living area, so they can socialise and prepare meals together when they’re not busy with classes. Should they not know how to cook, or can’t for whatever reason, however, there is a small cafeteria just a walk away from the dormitories that is manned by a small number of staff. The school grounds are also often used as a home base by many sorcerers, so it’s useful for us to have options for food. Ah- but those sorcerers coming and going generally never have any interactions with the students, as they have no reason to. The campus is large, so the likelihood of running into any is relatively low.” 

Wasuke nods, “And that Tengen person's barrier protects the school, correct?”

“That’s right.”

He falls silent, closing his eyes as he processes. A sigh escapes him.

“...Yaga. I’ll be honest with you. I don’t really understand a lick of this sorcery stuff. I can’t see what you both can, so I don’t know what those curses are really like. I don’t know what my grandson might be risking his life against as a favor for a friend, but I know I would be kicking myself if something were to happen to him simply because he was untrained. However…” Wasuke’s eyes become sad, “I have already lost my son to your world. I don’t want to lose my grandson, too.”

“...Your son?” His eyes zone in on the photos hanging on the wall to his left; one in particular— A photo of a tall man with glasses and pink hair, stood behind Wasuke and a younger looking Choso, who wears a warm smile as the man has a hand on his shoulder. “Was Itadori-kun’s father a sorcerer?”

Wasuke shakes his head. “Jin wasn’t Choso’s father- not by blood, anyway, but he certainly wasn’t a sorcerer.” He glances at Choso over by the kitchen, who’s preoccupied entertaining a blabbering Yuji and stirring the curry, “...Choso’s mother met my Jin when the boy was only eight, and they married two years later. His birth father was never in the picture as far as I know, from what her and Choso both told me, and she had been… raising Choso all on her own.”

“Then, was his mother..?”

He sighs, glancing at Choso again, then to the photos on the wall. “...I think she was. Whatever she could do, she never revealed it, but… What I do know is that after Yuji was born, both Kaori and Jin disappeared, and I’ve not seen my son since. I don’t have high hopes that he’s still alive.”

Yaga’s eyes widen, and he looks over at Yuji. The recentness of the event isn’t lost on him, clearly. He looks apologetic when he faces Wasuke. “...I’m sorry for your loss.”

Wasuke grunts, waving a hand as if to swat away any pity in the air. “I can’t say it’s been easy, but I’ve got two kids to look after, so I can’t be wallowing in sadness. Like I said, I’m not exactly eager to throw my grandson into your school… But I can’t deny the merits of it. I think… What I want most for my grandson is for him to be happy. He might not say it, but I can tell how isolated he feels from his peers because he’s different... I think he might be able to make friends with people who can actually understand him.”

“...Often, in part due to the small class sizes, many of the students do form lifelong friendships with each other.”

He flashes a smile which disappears soon after. “That’s good to hear. My last question for you, Yaga.”

Yaga straightens once again, looking serious.

“Are you expecting me to pay a tuition fee, seeing as it’s a private school?”

“No, not at all. Attending the school is free for all students. We obtain funding through the government and donations from the three great sorcerer clans. Additionally, all students receive a monthly allowance of around 200,000 yen for food, clothes, utilities and whatever else they should need. With this, we also try to teach them how to manage their funds.”

“200,000 yen a month for high schoolers? ” Wasuke balks, “That’s some funding…”

Yaga chuckles, “We do what we can to ensure they have what they need. Ah- though it might have been obvious, I’ll state it anyway— The students all have the opportunity to come home for the holidays if they want to, and if they don’t then they are still allowed to stay at the dorms. However, our summer holiday duration is 20 days instead of 40, due to the nature of the curriculum and what we have to teach them. Travel to and from Tokyo and their homes will always be covered by the school.”

“Hm… That’s quite a change, but I guess it makes sense…”

Yaga nods. “Are you certain you have no more questions for me, Itadori-san?”

He thinks for a moment, but shakes his head. “No. That was all. I’ll need to discuss this with Choso and see what he thinks before I come to a decision, however.”

“I understand. I don’t expect an immediate answer.” From his pocket, Yaga pulls out a small notepad and a pen, writing down on the paper before removing it from the notepad and sliding it across the table towards Wasuke. There’s a phone number written on it. “Should you come to a decision, or if you have more questions, this is my cell phone number. You can call it any time. Should you and Itadori-kun decide he should go, ideally I would like to hear back about it before December or January, at the very least. Late arrivals aren’t too uncommon though, so April and the start of the semester would be alright too.”

The elderly man picks it up, examines it slowly, then places it within his own pocket. “Right. Got it.”

Yaga hums, then looks at the clock on the wall. “If that’s all then, I should be going.” 

He rises from his seat and Wasuke follows. The movement draws Choso’s attention from the stove, and the teenager rejoins the dining table, little brother still in arms.

“Are you leaving, Yaga-san?”

The sorcerer nods, “I am. Thank you for the tea, Itadori-kun, and thank you both for speaking with me. It was a pleasure to meet all of you.” he bows.

Choso bows in return, as does Wasuke. His grandfather escorts him to the front door and Choso trails behind. Yaga steps outside with a goodbye, and Yuji waves his little arm as much as he can, cheering, “Bye bye!”

Once Yaga is out of sight and the door closed, Wasuke sighs and stretches his neck. Choso tilts his head.

“We can talk about it after dinner. I’m hungry.”

Choso hums. “Alright.” He steps back into the living room and places Yuji back onto the couch, who is more than happy to entertain himself with his toys strewn about the place. Wasuke disappears upstairs to change out of his work clothes while Choso returns to the kitchen to finish up dinner.

When his grandfather returns, he shoos Choso out and takes over so he can change out of his own uniform and into comfier clothes. He relents and does as told.

Dinner passes relatively peacefully. After plating the food, with a smaller portion for Yuji’s stomach to handle, the meal is filled with the usual idle chit chat. Wasuke asks how his and Yuji’s days were— aside from the obvious part for Choso— and Yuji babbles on about what they did at the daycare today with what limited vocabulary he has so far. Choso’s own reply is the same as it always is; it was alright, he did well on a test they had at the start of the week, nothing too exciting.

They don’t actually talk until around two hours later, after Wasuke takes Yuji upstairs to change him into his pajamas and put him to bed.

To keep himself busy, he tidies up all of Yuji’s toys and returns them to the play box they keep in the living room. He sets the box back in its place just as his grandfather returns and flops down onto the couch with a tired sigh, grabbing the remote and switching the channel to some random drama that’s airing, volume low so they can still hear each other.

He takes a seat next to his grandfather as the man speaks up, “So. What do you think? About everything he said.”

Choso looks down at his hands, fidgeting with his fingers. “...I’m not sure. Conflicted.”

The older man hums, sits up. “Conflicted about..?”

“I’ve never been away from my family for as long as I would be if I were to go… but, Tokyo is where our siblings are. At that very school. Yaga couldn’t seem to tell that I’m a death painting- otherwise I doubt he would have offered. Part of me wants to— needs to go, so I can bring them all home, but…”

“But you’re scared?”

Choso remains silent, eyebrows knit together as he stares down at his hands.

Wasuke sighs. He scoots closer across the couch and puts a hand on Choso’s shoulder. He doesn’t speak until he tears his eyes up to meet his grandfather.

“Choso- I know you pride yourself on being a good older brother, one that tries to be strong for his siblings. Despite how long you’ve been alive, though, you’re just a teenager now. It’s okay to feel scared and uncertain, especially at this age.”

He pouts, anxiety still running through him, “I’m—”

He gets flicked on the forehead. “I don’t care how old you really are, you’re just fifteen. We’ve been over this.”

Choso slumps. “... I know.” He sighs, “I’m worried what might happen if they find out… If the worst happens, I don’t want to drag you and Yuji down into it.”

“Always catastrophizing…” His grandfather huffs. “ If it happens— though I highly doubt it will— then we’ll deal with it, together. Your siblings rely on you as their older brother, but that doesn’t mean you can’t rely on others, too. I might be long past my prime, but you’re still my responsibility; my grandson. I’ll be there with you through whatever happens.”

Choso sniffles quietly, his eyes almost watering and threatening to spill over if his grandfather keeps going with his kind words. Wasuke rubs small, soothing circles on his back.

“I think you should go.”

Brown eyes look at his grandfather in surprise, “You do?”

“I do. I think you should go to that school, even if it is all the way in Tokyo. Learn all that jujutsu stuff, see your siblings again.”

“But…” Choso fiddles with the hem of his shirt, “...What about you and Yuji?”

“Yuji and I will be fine. Nothing will happen just because you aren’t here to watch over us, you know.”

He pouts again, “...I know, but—”

Wasuke ruffles his hair aggressively, drawing a surprised squawk from him. “No more buts from you. I swear, I should look into getting you anxiety medication…” He grumbles the last part to himself. “I think going will be good for you. You’ll be learning things that you won’t get at any high school here- and you’ll be around other kids just like— almost like you. Others who know what it’s like to do the things you can do. You could make a few friends.”

He levels a heatless glare at the older man, “Do you really want me to go just so I can make friends? You’ll never let it go, will you?”

He laughs. “Guilty as charged.” He removes his hand from Choso’s head, letting it drop to his side. “As your grandpa, I want the best for you. I know you can’t make friends with the kids here, so it’s my hope that you’ll be able to in Tokyo. You should be surrounded by people who can understand you.”

The uncertainty and nervousness still claws at his chest and throat and makes his limbs feel numb, but there’s truth to his words. He thought he hid it well, but nothing ever gets past his grandfather, even if he doesn’t say the words out loud. He’s always thought of ‘friends’ as something that was wholly unattainable to him. The idea that he might be able to have some is strange and foreign, and he still doesn’t quite believe it. He could try … but…

His nose scrunches. “What about Yuji’s daycare? Who will pick him up?”

Wasuke tuts, “Did you forget it’s open even after I get out of work? I can pick him up. Hell, I can always ask for a change in hours, too. I’ve been working at that damn firm long enough that they’ll give it to me. You know Yuji won’t be fussed about staying longer, either.”

Ah… He kind of did. It’s been routine for so long for Yuji to get picked up right after Choso gets out of school that he really did forget the daycares own set times.

“Before you work yourself up into a spiral again, let me ask you directly.”

He lifts his head and meets his grandfather’s eyes.

“Do you want to go to the school, Choso?”

He opens his mouth, closes it, and looks down at his lap. A moment passes as he really thinks on it. He takes a breath.

“...I do.”

Wasuke smiles. “Okay. Then that’s that. I’ll call Yaga next week on Monday to let him know our decision.”

Choso blinks, “Monday? Not tomorrow?”

The old man snorts. “Nah. Let him sweat over it a little. He can wait a few days.”

Choso chuckles at his antics, but then goes quiet again with a small frown tugging at his lips.

Wasuke pokes him gently, “What’s on your mind now?”

The lump in his throat gets swallowed down so he can speak. “...What if I start to really miss you and Yuji when I’m gone?”

His grandfather scoffs lightly, but there’s no mocking behind it. He puts an arm around Choso’s shoulders and pulls him into a small side-hug. “Then you can come back home and stay for as long as you need to. Simple as that.”

Choso sniffles and nods, leaning into him. “...Thank you, grandpa.”

He can feel Wasuke’s smile. The hug lasts for a few more moments before the older man is patting Choso on the back. “Right- you’ve still got some homework to do, don’t you? Go on up and get it done before you go to bed.”

Choso wipes any wetness from his eyes and nods, standing from the couch. “I will. Goodnight, grandpa.”

“Goodnight, Choso. See you in the morning.”

Moving isn’t something that is unfamiliar to Choso. When it was just him and Kaori, they would always be on the move after a few months in one place, and they never really ‘settled down’ until Kaori met Jin. Since then, and since they moved in with the Itadori’s, Choso had gotten used to having a real, genuine place that felt like home.

The day that Choso was set to leave for Tokyo might be the most he’s cried in his life so far.

After Wasuke informed Yaga of their decision, the sorcerer had managed to get him fully enrolled into the school relatively quickly, and by the end of October it was all official and on paper that Choso would be starting his next school semester at Tokyo Jujutsu High, and he just had to wait for April. 

Explaining it all to Yuji hadn’t appeared to be too difficult. The young boy clearly didn’t quite understand what it meant for Choso to be moving to a new city hours away, even after he and Wasuke answered every question Yuji managed to ask. It seemed to only set in for his little brother that Choso was leaving when they were at the train station and his train had pulled in, and he processed that only Choso would be going.

His baby brother had burst into tears instantly, which did nothing to help Choso’s already horribly contained waterworks. Within seconds they were both blubbery sobbing messes as Choso held his brother in his arms. It took many repeated promises and reaffirmations to Yuji that he would be coming home as often as he could- every weekend, ideally- and that he would be here for every holiday and break and that he would never dream of leaving his baby brother alone for so long.

He only didn’t miss the train completely thanks to Wasuke— though Choso could tell the older man was getting emotional too from how misty his eyes were. He said his goodbyes, giving both his grandfather and brother bone-crushing hugs (that weren’t so crushing for Yuji, out of consideration and concern for his tiny little body) before he tugged his suitcases onto the train car and waved at them through the windows as it pulled out. A kind stranger had seen his snotty and wet face and offered him tissues, which he gratefully accepted, though the tears didn’t completely stop until at least an hour into the journey.

Choso spent most of the trip reading whatever random book he’d brought to stave off boredom and admiring the landscape as it zipped past through the window. When the train pulled into Tokyo station and he hopped off the train, he was immediately hit with how out of his depth he was.

Sendai isn’t a small and unpopulated city by any means, but compared to Tokyo? There’s so many people in just the station alone that he’s not sure what to do with himself. He’s never been the biggest fan of crowds, but there isn’t much else he can do except to suck it up and find his way out of here.

He weaves through the crowds to the best of his ability, being mindful to not hit anybody with his suitcases by accident, and gets lost more than a handful of times. On the sixth, he relents and asks a station worker for directions out.

When Choso finally escapes the god-awful maze, he still feels like a lost duckling. The street is even more crowded than the station was, but at least he’s out in the open now… He awkwardly shuffles to the side so he isn’t in the way of anyone’s path, and so he can get his bearings. If he remembers right, Yaga had said that someone- a manager- would be waiting for him at the car pick-ups, and to look out for a person wearing a suit.

…Which is easier said than done , when there’s about a hundred businessmen going about their day.

He shuffles through the crowd towards the cars and looks each one over carefully. The crease between his brows grows by the second as he becomes increasingly unsure of who he’s supposed to meet. It’s starting to get a little overwhelming.

Before he can start to get fidgety, thankfully , from the corner of his eye he sees a man in a suit with tan skin and medium-length black hair perk up from just a few cars away and yell “Itadori-san!” with a wave of his arm.

Choso hurries over to him, suitcases in tow. “Um… Are you the manager?” He asks.

The man nods, “I am! And you are Itadori Choso, right? I figured because of the…” he points at his own nose.

Ah. That makes sense. It’s an obvious thing about him to be on the lookout for, really. He nods and bows. “I am. I’m sorry, I hope you weren’t waiting too long.”

The manager waves a dismissive hand, “No, no, not at all. Don’t worry about it.” He gives a bow in return. “I’m Kagami. It’s good to meet you, Itadori-san. Let me put that in the trunk for you.”

Kagami gestures to his suitcases and Choso gives a small ‘ah,’ before collapsing the handle. “Thank you, Kagami-san.”

Once his suitcases are secured in the trunk, Kagami opens the back door for Choso to slide in with his backpack, and it’s not long before they’re on the road and driving through the streets of Tokyo. For the duration of the drive that they’re still in the city, Kagami is happy to carry conversation and points out landmarks for him to familiarize should he need to navigate the city on his own, and though he doesn’t contribute much to the conversation himself, he’s incredibly thankful. The nervousness must show on his face if the manager feels the need to do this— or maybe it’s just who Kagami is. He has no real way of knowing, since they just met.

When they transition to the outskirts of the city, and then into the mountain side, any talk from Kagami comes to a stop in comfortable silence that allows Choso to take in the nature that they pass by.

…That is, until Kagami’s phone rings. He doesn’t answer it, seemingly an ever-responsible driver, but then it rings again. And again. And again. The calls die down, but it isn’t long before he hears back-to-back pings of messages. Kagami lets out a suffering sigh, but keeps his eyes on the road despite the annoyance.

“Sorry about that, Itadori-san. It’s just my partner. I’d wager he’s asking which country would be best to get tofu from for dinner tonight…”

…Which country?

He’s not going to pretend to understand that at all.

“It’s alright. It doesn’t bother me.”

Kagami smiles at the rearview mirror, “We’ll be at the campus soon.”

Choso hums in acknowledgement and returns to looking at the scenery beyond his window. Kagami’s phone is thankfully silent for the rest of the journey.

The campus of Jujutsu High will definitely take some getting used to. 

Kagami had pulled into a tunnel, in front of a small entryway and a door leading to the rest of the campus. Yaga was stood by and ready to welcome Choso, and did so with a smile and a pat on his back, then instructed him to follow him to the dormitories. Choso made sure to thank Kagami for driving him this far, because he hadn’t left his manners in Sendai. The man laughed and said it was part of his job, but he looked pretty pleased to be getting thanked, regardless.

As Choso walks with Yaga, he tries his best to memorise the path they take and buildings he sees and what Yaga points out along the way. He takes note of the training grounds and the gymnasium just near it, the cafeteria, the medical ward, the large building near the center of the campus where Yaga says their classes will be held, and that the teacher offices reside in the same building.

They come to a stop in front of a long one story building that sits next to a long row of torii gates that lead further up the mountain directly to his left.

“This is your dormitory- there’s a building for each year, and you’ll be staying in this one for as long as you’re a student at this school.” Yaga explains. He holds the door open for Choso to pass through with his suitcases. “Since we usually have so few students, the dorms aren’t separated by gender. There is one female student who will be in the same class as you, so you shouldn’t be alarmed if you see her around.”

Yaga leads him down the hall past the rows of doors that likely hold nothing in them. If they notoriously don’t have a lot of students, you would think they would cut down on the building sizes..?

The sorcerer clears his throat and looks uncomfortable when he speaks next, “It goes without saying that I expect there to be no inappropriate behavior within this building, or anywhere on the school grounds.”

Inappropriate behavior?

Choso runs the conversation back in his brain, then scrunches his nose when he realises what he’s insinuating. Was that enough of a problem that he has to be warned not to?

“...Understood.”

He prays that Yaga can tell it really won’t be an issue for Choso. 

They pass by a decently sized common area that includes three couches, a coffee table, and a rather big TV on a TV stand against the wall, which is joined with a kitchen just next to it, where Yaga reminds him he’ll be able to cook if he wants to— but the students are responsible for taking care of their own groceries. Yaga also makes sure he knows where the shared bathrooms and showers are- a door at the bottom of the hall on the left-hand side.

Yaga pulls to a stop just a short distance away from the common area and opens one of the doors to the empty dorms.

“This is your room.”

Choso steps inside with his suitcases, gaze wandering around the interior.

It’s not a bad size- a bit bigger than his room at home. A large window touches the floor on the opposite wall from him, next to it a bed frame with a bare mattress and a small bedside table.. To his left, there’s a desk and chair tucked against the wall opposite from the bed, and to his right, in the corner closest to the door, is a large wardrobe. Choso wanders closer to it and pulls the doors open, and sees clothes already hanging within— four identical sets of a uniform.

“That’s your school uniform; it should be identical to what you described on your customisation form. You have extras, but try your best not to ruin your uniform too much.” Yaga inputs.

He pulls one down from the rack it hangs from and examines the jacket up close. True enough, it’s more or less what he imagined it should look like when he’d filled out the form. It doesn’t deviate too much from the standard jacket that had been pictured, but he had requested a large scarf that could clip on over the neck. The front and back of it drapes down and curves at the edge, rather than a straight cut, and reaches down to the middle of his thighs. Upon further examination, there’s hidden buttons on the inside of the jacket to properly secure it and make sure it stays as it should.

The pants are loose and straight, not too baggy, and not too tight, though he won’t know for sure until he tries it all on later.

Choso puts the uniform back into the wardrobe, closing the doors. He bows his head to Yaga. “They look just right. Thank you, Yaga-sensei.”

The man— his teacher officially now, huh,— gives him a small smile. “Glad you like them. I’ll leave you to get settled, then. Do you have bedding with you already? If not, we can provide them.”

“I do,” he gestures to the larger of his suitcases, in which he had managed to shove in a duvet, pillow and bedding as well as whatever else he deemed fit to go in there, “but thank you for the offer.”

“Good, good.” He nods and steps back to exit the room, but pauses, “Ah, just one last thing. One of your classmates moved in a day early as well, though I’m not sure where he is. Exploring, perhaps. So you shouldn’t be startled if you encounter someone else here before classes start tomorrow. I believe the other two will be moved in tomorrow morning, since they live closer to the area than either of you did.”

Oh, he’s not the only one here? That’s good to know. “I see. I’ll keep that in mind, thank you Sensei.”

“No problem. I expect you to be in the second classroom on the left on the ground floor tomorrow morning at eight a.m. sharp, and that goes for everybody else, too. You’re free to spend the rest of today however you like, and you’re free to roam the school grounds as long as you don’t leave Tengen-sama’s barrier.” Yaga finally steps back into the hall, doorknob in hand to bring it to a close behind him. “Have a good evening, Itadori.”

With a click, he’s then left alone in his new room.

Choso strides over to the floor-length window and unlocks it, sliding open the large glass window slash door to let in the cool April air. He rolls his sleeves up to his elbows and looks back towards his suitcases.

It’s time to get unpacking, then.

Emptying his suitcases had taken longer than he’d expected it to, but maybe he was just more tired than he thought. His bed gets fitted and made, duvet and pillow covers on, and the small amount of clothes that he brought with him are neatly hung up and piled away in the wardrobe, and Choso finds himself hungry after the ordeal. 

The cafeteria food is good, but it doesn’t compare to any of the homemade meals he cooked with his grandfather.

For the rest of the evening, Choso kills time by exploring the campus, like Yaga said he could, familiarising himself with the routes to notable buildings, and wandering a bit through the dense forest that covers a majority of the grounds. He’s careful not to go too far, though. It’d be real bad for him to get in trouble already when school hasn’t even officially begun.

He doesn’t run into the other student in his exploration, or when he returns to the dorms for the night. The only possible evidence that the boy is indeed there are signs of one of the sinks in the shared bathrooms being used, when Choso goes to brush his teeth. Which is fine— they’ll get acquainted tomorrow, so he’s in no rush to know him right away.

The night ends with him sending a small message to his grandfather, telling him that he made it to Tokyo and the school, and how he already misses them. It’s not long before he gets a response; his grandfather saying he’s glad he made it there safely- and that they miss him too. He even sends a picture of Yuji, smiling brightly at the camera. It makes him tear up as he saves it and makes a mental note to find somewhere to print it, so he can add it to his collection in his wallet.

Sleep doesn’t come quickly or easily for him in this new and unfamiliar place, but after a long while of tossing and turning, he falls into a blissful and welcome rest.

The loud beeping of his alarm clock on the bedside table is an unwelcome disturbance to his sleep. Choso whines and blindly slaps at it without opening his eyes, still half asleep, and succeeds in getting it to shut up. He turns over without a second thought and curls into his duvet, burying his face into the soft fabric and falling back into slumber. 

…That is, until five minutes later, in which the alarm clock begins its beeping again.

He whines again, pulling his pillow around his head and pressing it against his ears in hopes that it shuts out the damn thing- but it doesn’t. Go figure.

With an annoyed grumble Choso turns back over and blindly feels for the alarm clock again, getting more agitated as the beep-beep-beep continues to always ruin his morning; agitated enough that after only ten seconds of not being able to shut it up yet, when he finally gets his hands on the damn thing, there’s a plastic crunch that stops the noise from the god-forsaken thing.

A bemoaned sigh at his interrupted sleep leaves his lungs as he forces himself into an upright position, almost slumping forward as he sits in bed and ever so slowly wakes up properly. Choso’s undone and messy hair falls into his face, but it’s not enough to block out the sunlight beaming into the room through the half-drawn curtains. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and cracks them open, adjusting to the light.

Choso squints at the bedside table, and the remains of his alarm clock.

God dammit.

He sighs, adding ‘buy a new alarm clock’ to his list of things to do, and pulls himself out of bed to start the morning and wake himself up a little more.

He slides his feet into a pair of slippers by his bed and shuffles to his desk, rummaging through his little bag of toiletries until he finds his toothbrush, toothpaste, face cream and a little face towel. He steps into the hall and makes his way to the shared sinks, and doesn’t take too long brushing his teeth and moisturising. When he returns to his room and clicks the door shut behind him, Choso pulls off his shirt and tosses it lazily onto his bed.

The wardrobe doors are pulled open, a dress shirt, his uniform jacket, pants, and socks retrieved, and he gets dressed.

The only mirror Choso has in his room is a small one that sits on his desk, no bigger than a notebook, but it’s good enough for him to lean into while he pulls his hair into two low ponytails that, against his will, spike up in every which direction, but he’s long since given up trying to tame it. His bangs fall in front of his eyes as usual, but not enough to be a distraction or block his vision.

Stepping back, he views himself in the small mirror— maybe he should get a larger one to hang on the wall— and inspects his uniform. He had done it last night already to make sure it fit, but it feels… different, wearing it on the first official day of class. The jacket isn’t too tight, the scarf isn’t too tricky to detach and reattach, and his pants are pretty comfortable.

He might even say he feels the tiniest bit excited. It’s a weird feeling.

Choso grabs his phone from the desk and checks the time— 7:35. He should probably get a move on so he’s not late.

He reaches for a pair of his boots— brown, ankle-length docs he got for his birthday, after Wasuke had noticed him eyeing them in the store— and slides them on, slipping his phone into his pocket as he stands and heads for the door.

As he heads for the exit to the dorms, Choso notices a few suitcases sat outside one of the doors, and recalls Yaga saying his other classmates would move in in the morning. There’s only suitcases outside of one door though, and not two. Hm.

He shrugs and continues on his way. He’ll probably learn what that’s about later.

The distance between the dorms and the classrooms isn’t huge; it only takes Choso five minutes to get there- though that might also be because he got nervous and picked up the pace.

Second classroom on the left, ground floor— that’s what Yaga said. Standing in front of the door, he takes a deep breath.

When he slides it open, he’s greeted with four desks set before a podium and a blackboard on the wall, three of the desks have their chairs turned upside down and resting on top, and the one on the far right of the room, closest to him, is already occupied by a bored looking girl with short brown hair. She looks back at the noise of the door opening and perks up at the sight of him.

She turns in her chair, arm resting over the back of it, giving a small wave with her other hand. He can notice the beauty mark under her right eye, now that she’s facing him. “Yo.”

Stepping in, he closes the door behind him. Choso gives a small bow. “Hello. It’s nice to meet you.”

She chuckles, though it doesn’t sound like it’s intended to be mean, “You’re so stiff. No need to be so formal.”

“Ah,” he straightens and fiddles with his sleeve. “Sorry. I just thought it’s important to show respect to new people— especially classmates.”

“Hmm,” she hums. “I guess that’s true. Good on you for having manners. Feels like they’re hard to come by, these days.”

Choso walks closer to the desks, and after a quick internal debate, pulls down the chair next to his classmate and takes a seat, “They are?” he asks with a frown.

She leans forward onto her desk and rests her chin on her palm, and waves her hand side to side. “It’s like a 50/50 with normies on how polite they’ll be, in my experience. With clans though, especially the old people, they’re just pretty rude all the time, y’know? So, yeah.”

He tilts his head, “Normies? Do you mean non-sorcerers?”

“Yep. You’re not from a clan, huh? I kinda thought you were, since you’ve got that tattoo.”

“Ah… I’m not, no. And it’s a birthmark.”

She squints. “A birthmark? Really?”

Choso nods. “Yes. There are a few photos of me as a child where I have it.”

“For real?” Her look changes from one of disbelief to intrigue. “Got any on you, by chance?”

He does, actually. For this exact purpose of getting people off his case. He gets out his phone, opens his photos and shows her the first one he finds.

His classmate whistles, “I’ll be damned. You really do. That’s one weird birthmark. Is it to do with your technique, or just bad luck?”

“Hm… Both, maybe..?”

“Huh. Sucks.”

He hums in agreement and puts his phone away.

She moves the conversation along easily, “So, what’s your name? Sensei’ll make us do a whole introduction thing I bet, but I can’t be bothered to wait that long to know who I’m talking to.”

That’s a fair point. He does want to know her name, too.

“Itadori Choso.”

She hums, “Nice to meet you, Itadori. I’m Ieiri Shoko. Just call me Shoko, though.”

Oh. First name? Should he let her call him by his first name, too? Shoko seems like a very straightforward person though, he figures that if she wanted to, then she would just ask… Or would’ve used it already.

Ultimately, he just bows his head, “It’s nice to meet you too, Shoko.”

Shoko smiles at him. “I like what you did with the uniform. Looks comfortable.”

He tugs at the scarf at the mention. “Oh. Thank you. It is.”

The classroom door slides open after Choso speaks. Both he and Shoko look back to see another boy the same age as them, with black hair tied neatly into a bun, with the exception of a small bit at the front that looks like it’s been intentionally pulled out to create bangs. His jacket looks like the standard uniform, but he’s also wearing bontan pants and jika-tabi. It’s a very unique look- not one Choso would choose, maybe- but he makes it work surprisingly well. He’s taller than Choso too by a fair amount.

His newly arrived classmate pauses as he takes a step, noticing the other two sitting there, but his eyes lock onto Choso with a frown. As Choso tilts his head in confusion though, the expression is gone and is replaced with a well-mannered smile.

“Good morning. Has Yaga dropped by yet?” He asks.

“Nope,” Shoko answers, already leaning back onto the desk. “Should be any minute now, though, so you’ve got good timing.”

The boy closes the door behind him and walks over to the desks, picking the one on the far left to sit in and leaving the desk between him and Choso free. “I see. Good timing, indeed.”

He doesn’t take him not sitting next to him personally. Bangs-kid seems like the kind of person who values his personal space, like Choso does. He only really sat next to Shoko to be polite, or he would’ve picked the same seat, or the one next to it.

Choso glances at the clock that sits above the blackboard and wonders when their fourth classmate will get here. It’s getting close to eight.

Like he was summoned at the mere thought of punctuality, Yaga enters through the sliding door near the front of the room. He looks over the three of them. “Good morning.”

He eyes the fourth untouched desk and sighs, looking strangely tired. “Only the three of you have come in here so far, correct?”

They nod, Shoko chiming in with a “Yep.”

Their teacher pinches the bridge of his nose. “That boy… I told him to be on time…”

Yaga steps behind the podium at the front, placing down some folders he was carrying. “I’ll give it two minutes, then I’m starting whether he’s here or not. You’re free to talk amongst yourselves in the meantime.”

Choso is content to sit there in silence. The other boy seems like he is, too.

To the right of him, Shoko snickers quietly. “Day one hasn’t even started, and we’ve already got a problem child. Go figure.”

He supposes that every school does have at least one problem child per class… Like some kind of universal law that there has to be one, or something. Of course it would apply to jujutsu schools, too.

Yaga glares up at the clock, and clearly two minutes have passed faster than expected. The man gives a long-suffering sigh. “Let’s start, then.”

He stands straight and looks at them, “Good morning, everyone. Thank you for showing up early. As you all know, my name is Yaga Masamichi, and I will be your teacher for your first year at this school. I hope you’ve settled into your dorms, or will settle into them soon if you have yet to unpack.” He directs that last bit towards Shoko. So it’s her suitcases that he saw, then?

“I’m sure you might have talked to each other before this, but I would still like you all to introduce yourselves. Name and cursed technique; if you wish to share it. Let’s start from my left—”

The door near the front slides open harshly, as if it were yanked to the side carelessly, cutting Yaga off.

“Yo, Sensei.”

In the doorway stands a tall lanky boy in the regular school uniform, with shock-white short and unruly, unstyled hair, wearing black sunglasses on his face that are so dark, they genuinely don’t look usable.

“Gojo.” Yaga frowns. “You’re late. ”

The boy— Gojo— groans dramatically. “By what, like, five minutes? Give me a break.”

“I expect punctuality from everyone, and that includes you.”

Gojo fake gags, “You should get done for child abuse for forcing anyone to wake up before nine. Seriously—”

He cuts himself off when he turns his head to look at the three of them sitting down, and though he can’t see the boys eyes through those dense glasses, he can feel them on him. All around him, actually. An uncomfortable shiver runs down his spine.

“Sensei,” Gojo frowns. “Is this some kind of test?”

Yaga blinks, brows furrowed. “Test?”

Gojo scoffs, “Come on, you can’t play the clueless card.” he raises his arm and points. “That.”

Points straight at Choso. 

“Why the hell is a curse in here?”

He feels his mouth go dry.

“Wha— Gojo, have you lost it?” Yaga sputters. Shoko and the other boy both look equally confused, and Choso pulls his best poker-face, despite his rapid heart.

He looks incredibly offended. “Have I lost it? The fuck? Have you lost it, old man? You’ve got a cursed spirit sat in your own classroom, dressed like a student , and you ask if I’m going crazy? This is a really shitty goddamn test.”

“There is no test , Gojo,” Yaga folds his arms. “I don’t know what your Six Eyes are telling you, but it’s incorrect. And I would kindly ask that you watch your language in my classroom.”

“ Incorrect? ” Gojo parrots, his nose scrunching. “You’re going to say the Six Eyes are actually wrong? If the Heads heard that, they’d rip you a new one.”

Frustration grows by the second on Yaga’s face. “I’m telling you they’re wrong. That is my student and your classmate, who I expect you to treat with respect , and I can assure you that if he were a cursed spirit, he would not be here in the first place.”

The sunglasses slide down Gojo’s nose as he glares at Yaga, then at Choso, and he’s almost frozen on the spot by how impossibly bright and blue they are. It’s like they’re piercing through his very soul, and just looking at them, he knows that Gojo can tell he isn’t fully human.

He gets a moment of reprieve from that intense gaze when Gojo’s eyes flit back to Yaga, “And I’m telling you that you don’t know shit.”

To his left, Choso can hear bangs-kid sigh at the spectacle Gojo is making of himself, while to his right, Shoko is frowning.

In a situation like this, he does the only thing he can.

Pure bullshit.

“You must be a pretty bad sorcerer if you’re mistaking me for a curse.”

Within an instant, Gojo’s head snaps towards him, pinning him down with those impossibly blue eyes as he wears a look of pure irritation.

“ Haah? What the hell did you just say?”

He hears Shoko mutter “ Oh boy, ” but he pushes on.

“I said you must be a pretty bad sorcerer, if you think I’m a curse. Are your ears as bad as your eyes?”

Gojo gapes at the audacity, any surprise then switches back to anger.

“You— Do you know who I am?”

“No.” He responds honestly, “And I don’t care, really. You’re causing a scene in Sensei’s class.”

“I’ll show you a scene—” Gojo hisses and raises a hand in his direction. Choso can feel the immense cursed energy start to build up and stands instinctively to get out of the way, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. Shoko and the other boy have the same reaction, though Shoko’s is to get out of the way, the boy actually moves in front of Choso’s desk, his own hand raised in preparation with his own cursed energy too.

“ Gojo! ” Yaga yells and roughly grabs his wrist, yanking it down. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“If you would just let me exorcise it—”

“Gojo, you will listen to me, now. ”

Yaga’s voice turns stone cold and serious in a way he didn’t know the man was capable of. It’s a bit unsettling- enough to make Gojo actually freeze and look up.

“When you are in my classroom, I will not tolerate any violence towards your classmates, regardless of what you think of them. I know how powerful the Six Eyes are, but I am telling you, as your teacher, that Itadori is human, your classmate, and not a cursed spirit. I can attest to it personally, as I have seen his non-sorcerer family interact and speak with him, and nothing suspicious came up on any background checks.”

Gojo’s eyes widen. He looks at Choso, but— he looks genuinely confused. Like Yaga is trying to help him solve a complicated math equation with lines from Shakespeare. It just doesn’t add up.

Choso might have felt bad- if he hadn’t just tried to maybe kill him a minute earlier.

“Is that enough for me to convince you, Gojo.”

The white haired boy looks down towards the ground with a scowl. His hand goes limp in Yaga’s grip, and he exhales harshly through his nose and pushes his sunglasses up to cover his eyes. “...Yes.”

“ Good. I’ll think of a punishment for you for even trying that later. This will not happen again.” He releases Gojo’s arm. “Are you alright, Itadori?”

Choso nods. “I’m fine.” He looks at the boy in front of his desk. “Thank you for stepping in, too.”

The boy straightens and drops his hand, and gives him a small smile. “Of course. Glad you’re okay.”

He returns to his own seat, picking the chair back up when it toppled in his split second action, and Shoko slides back to her desk too.

She laughs under her breath, “What a crazy first day, huh?” then, louder, “Sensei! Are we still doing introductions?”

Yaga blinks and looks down at his podium and papers, seeming to remember his entire lesson plan. He sighs. “As long as you’re all okay with proceeding, then yes.” Then he frowns at the free desk between Choso and his classmate.

“Itadori, if you’d like to switch—”

He shakes his head, “Not necessary, Sensei.” He’s going to be classmates with Gojo for the foreseeable future. Choso really doubts that a simple seat change will increase his opinion of him, so they might as well not bother.

Yaga’s frown remains, but he accepts the answer. “Alright… If you’re sure.” He pats the now silent Gojo on the back. “Go sit down, then. You’ll get the pleasure of being the first one to introduce yourself, too.”

“Aw, what!” Gojo squawks, breaking his silence immediately. He huffs, but reluctantly does as told. When the chair is set down, he doesn’t bother sitting yet as he stares straight ahead at the blackboard, looking annoyed.

“Gojo Satoru. Inheritor of the Six Eyes and Limitless.” He sits and glares at Yaga. “Happy?”

The man smiles. “Quite. Geto, would you go next? Then we’ll loop around to my left.”

“Of course, Sensei.” Geto— thank god he finally has a name to his face— nods and stands, his ramrod straight posture making Choso think of all the serious Class Presidents he’s seen through his time at school. “Geto Suguru. It’s nice to meet you all.”

Yaga nods, then looks to Shoko. She rises. “Ieiri Shoko. Just call me Shoko, though. No inherited technique, but I’m pretty good with Reverse Cursed Technique.”

“What, seriously?!” Gojo gasps to his left.

“Gojo,” Yaga warns him. The boy slumps in his chair with another huff, arms crossed and all.

When Shoko sits, Choso stands.

“Itadori Choso. Nice to meet you.”

He feels Gojo’s glare on him without having to look, the suspicion obvious in his aura. Choso hardly thinks it’s fair when Geto didn’t say his cursed technique, either.

Yaga nods, satisfied, then clears his throat and straightens his papers.

“Excellent. I hope you can all get along—” he looks at Gojo, who’s looking anywhere but Yaga, ”— and get to know each other during your time at Jujutsu High. In a bit, I’ll be taking all of you out to the training field to see what you’re capable of, but for the time being I’ll go over what you will learn during this year- either from myself, who will be primarily teaching you how to fight and control your cursed techniques, and the managers, who will handle the teaching of subjects like math, science, history, and all of that.”

As Yaga goes on, Choso ends up tuning him out, pulling his scarf up the slightest bit to conceal his face in a kind of useless attempt to make Gojo’s staring feel less invasive.

He dares to glance at the boy, and when he does, he meets that same bright blue he saw earlier. The other’s brows furrow when their eyes meet, but Choso refuses to be the one to break the contact, and so they sit in a silent act of war until surprisingly, Gojo relents and turns his eyes forward with another huff.

Choso looks away too after a moment, but focuses on his desk more than anything.

He’s really starting to second guess whether this was a good idea at all. How long could he theoretically hide his nature as a death painting from everyone else when one person clocked him the second he laid eyes on him?

The half-curse sighs quietly, pulling his eyes back up to Yaga, but not taking in a word he says.

Despite what Choso might feel, he has to remember why he’s here.

He’s at this school to learn how to be able to properly keep his family safe, and to bring the rest of his siblings home.

It’s his duty as the eldest to do everything he can for them.