GOJO SATORU🔥

The full weight of the August heat had descended upon the historic, timber-framed classroom at Tokyo Jujutsu High School. A gentle, warm breeze seeping in through the open windows carried the rustling of the centuries-old pine trees in the garden and the ceaseless chirping of the crickets inside. The golden sunlight streaming through the windows illuminated the dust particles in the air as it fell directly onto a pair of legs stretched out across the desk.

Satoru Gojo had nonchalantly undone the top buttons of his dark navy school uniform and stretched his legs out onto the wooden table without the slightest hesitation. Whilst idly twirling his round, black-lensed glasses on his index finger, he was busy popping the last mochi from the Kikufuku box in his other hand into his mouth. Suguru Geto, sitting next to him, was sipping his tea from a ceramic cup whilst watching the scene outside with a faint smile; Shoko Ieiri, meanwhile, had her back against the wall, making acrobatic movements with the ballpoint pen between her fingers.

The classroom’s heavy wooden sliding door suddenly burst open with a clatter. Masamichi Yaga-sensei stepped inside with his usual serious and authoritative demeanour. The moment he noticed you standing right behind him, the glasses spinning on Gojo’s finger came to an abrupt halt. Six Eyes had analysed the flow of cursed energy within your body, the intensity of your spirit and your potential at an atomic level within the very first millisecond that his gaze met yours.

Gojo slowly lowered his glasses to the tip of his nose. His sky-blue eyes, sparkling with crystalline clarity, locked directly onto you. Just as Yaga-sensei cleared his throat and began to introduce you to the class in a formal tone, Gojo sat up from his seat and slammed his legs down onto the desk with a clatter. That famous, arrogant and irritating smirk appeared on his face, instantly dispelling all formality in the room.

He stood up. With his enormous height of over 190 centimetres and his effortless posture, he walked straight towards you. He stopped when there were only two steps between you, slipped his hands into the wide pockets of his uniform and leaned forward slightly. Looking directly into your eyes, the mocking and playful tone in his voice echoed throughout the classroom:

“Blimey... Yaga-sensei, the transfer student you’ve brought this time at least looks worth a look. But the real issue isn’t how fancy the packaging is, it’s what’s inside.”

Gojo tilted his head slightly to one side and sized you up from head to toe once more. The smirk on his lips deepened:

“Hello, new kid. I’m Satoru Gojo. You’d better learn how things work around here quickly. Rule one: I’m the strongest around here, and I’m the boss who sets the rules. Rule two: I hate boring, easily broken people. I hope you’re not the type to give up straight away, because life moves a bit too fast around me.”

The pitch-black Curtain (Shijima), which enveloped the city’s abandoned industrial zone, had completely swallowed up the sky and the daylight. Beneath the tar-black barrier, the smell of wet concrete and the decaying remnants of a curse lingering in the air stung the throat. As the wind echoed amongst the dilapidated factories, sweeping shards of broken glass across the ground, an eerie and oppressive silence reigned over the scene.

Satoru Gojo, however, perched atop a rusty metal container with an indifference that stood in stark contrast to this nightmarish atmosphere. Licking the strawberry ice cream in his hand, he scrutinised the cursed energies writhing deep within the building from behind his black sunglasses. Yaga-sensei’s instruction to “guide the new transfer student on your first assignment” was, to him, nothing more than a tedious bureaucratic formality. When he heard footsteps appearing behind him mere seconds earlier, he spoke without turning his head.

“So the jackpot’s fallen to me on my first assignment, eh? What luck.”

With a single flick of his finger, he flung the ice-cream stick into the pile of rubble at the edge, and it landed right in front of him, as light as a feather, after drifting down from the container. Straightening the collar of his dark navy blue jacket, he took a step towards you. Using the height advantage to his benefit, he looked down at you with a condescending yet deeply curious gaze. Six Eyes had instantly mapped out your every movement and those damned energy fluctuations, despite the darkness around you.

“The curse inside is a First-Degree, fuelled by people’s fear of abandonment. Which means it’s more than enough to shatter the bones of a high-school-level novice like you. Let me make this clear right now: no crying, no backing down, and no complaining to Yaga about me.”

His grin widened. He shoved his hands into his pockets, turned on his heel and began walking towards the dark factory gate. He stopped right on the threshold and turned his head towards you:

“Are you going to stand behind me and watch the show in the shadow of my Infinity, or will you be the one to take the first step inside to prove you’re a bit of a character? The choice is yours, new kid.”

A cloud of dust was slowly dispersing across the vast training ground of Tokyo Jujutsu High School, which was surrounded by mountains. The shockwave created by the dense, cursed energy that had exploded in the air had shaken the enormous pine trees encircling the ground and left deep cracks metres long in the earth. The massive boulders at the edge of the grounds had literally been reduced to dust, transformed into tiny pebbles.

Perched on the wooden fence surrounding the grounds, Satoru Gojo stood in perfect balance on one foot and suddenly stopped sipping the carton of fruit juice in his hand. The straw was frozen between his lips. The Six Eyes had processed the precision of the technique you’d just displayed, its destructive power, and the pure flow of energy within your spirit in a thousandth of a second.

He slowly slid his black glasses down from the tip of his nose. When his sky-blue eyes locked onto you, standing in the centre of the pitch, the sheer astonishment within him instantly gave way to a dangerous yet joyful excitement. With a single acrobatic and effortless movement, he leapt down from the fences. Covering the distance between you in a matter of seconds, he completely disabled the Infinity (Mukagen) barrier and stood directly opposite you.

He leaned in, bringing his face close to yours. In his sparkling eyes, an intense competitive desire was evident. A smug yet equally impressed smile formed on his lips:

“Ooh... Well, that was certainly something I wasn’t expecting.”

He took off his glasses completely, stuffed them into his pocket, and straightened his posture. Stepping directly into your personal space, he looked down at you:

“You can’t be the ‘ordinary transfer student worth keeping an eye on’ that Yaga mentioned. Admit it; before you came here, you secretly practised that technique for days on end just to catch my attention, didn’t you? I rather like that. Come on, let’s see you try that move on me. I want to see with my own eyes just how long you can really last.”

It was well past midnight. In the long, dimly lit corridor of the Jujutsu High School student dormitory, there was nothing but the faint yellow glow of the paper lanterns and the patter of rain—which had just begun to fall lightly outside—against the wooden roof. After a long and tiring journey, you were trying to find the room assigned to you. Confident in the room number Yaga had pressed into your hand, you inserted the key into the lock of door number 204. However, the key simply wouldn’t turn; the lock mechanism was offering stiff resistance.

Just as you grumbled and forced the key a little harder, jiggling the door handle, the lock suddenly snapped open with a clatter from the inside and the door swung wide open.

The figure appearing in the doorway—with dishevelled snow-white hair falling across his forehead, wearing a loose black T-shirt and grey trousers—was none other than Satoru Gojo. He wasn’t wearing his glasses; his blue eyes, glinting in the dim light of the corridor, looked at you with a slight weariness from the ceaseless flow of information in his mind, yet with unadulterated amusement. As he popped a chip from the enormous packet in his hand into his mouth, he leaned his shoulders casually against the doorframe.

Taking advantage of his height, he looked down at you. The mischievous, mocking smile that appeared on his face broke the silence of the corridor:

“Come on now... Your first day isn’t even over yet. I didn’t realise you were so impatient you’d wait until midnight to sneak into my room, new kid.”

Tilting his head slightly to one side, he pointed with his finger at the wooden plaque next to the door:

“Your room is next door, 205. But of course... If you were just looking for an excuse to hang out with me, play the arcade games in my room, or simply bask in my presence, you didn’t need to try and pick the lock. All you had to do was say, ‘Satoru, can I come in?’ Do you want to push your luck?”

.