Chapter Text
What a shitty day.
“Shit day?” Yeah, I wanna take Maki’s naginata and shove it up your ass and claw out your guts and the viscera with my hand- “Shake,” Inumaki says, expression blank.
“Oof,” Gojo replies, instantly making the first-years scowl. It’s an unusually warm day in April in 2018, the heat making their skin crawl beneath their uniforms, and Jujutsu Tech’s air conditioning has conveniently seized up. You know, as if the world isn’t out to get them.
“What happened?” he questions, and if they didn’t know better they might have thought he was actually concerned. Maki steps up, practically stomping, her face red with heat and irritation. Her mouth is as wide as when she’s mouthing off her family, and Inumaki wishes he had his earplugs on him. “Well, we went to exorcise the curse without Panda because he’s insecure in public or whatever. I keep telling him that nobody cares and will probably think he’s in a fursuit but all of that dumb shit about big and fur and whatever-” she gesticulates wildly with her hands, rolling her eyes, “-so we exorcise the curse, which was already a pain in the ass because they said it was a second-grade. It was that and also a first-grade and also two other second-grades, and Inumaki could probably take care of the first-grade but no because he doesn’t, his throat’s fucking wrecked. Stupid pranks and fooling around earlier like a dumbass,” she grumbles. Gojo nods and Inumaki thinks he should probably stop before she actually shoves her weapon up his ass. Not that the cursed-speech user would complain, but still. Maki continues.
“After that, we were tired as shit so we went to get some mochi. Here’s yours, by the way,” she pauses and gestures to Inumaki to hand her the bag, which she then hands to Gojo. He smiles in delight and slight amusement, rifling through the contents immediately. He stuffs some in his mouth on sight. They don’t hate him completely, then. “Anyway, we went to the shop and I video-called Panda to see what he wanted. He’s a bitch and won’t accept just the names of the flavours. He needs to see them to determine their authenticity.” She turns her head over her shoulder to glare menacingly at Panda, whose beady black eyes reveal nothing. “Ugh!” She turns back around, looking down at Gojo through her glasses. “I tell Inumaki to order for both of us because Panda’s being a real asshole about this. He points to the ones he wants and the cashier keeps saying, ‘Huh? Huh?’ I didn’t notice at first but I went to see what was taking so long and the cashier was throwing a fit, saying shit like, ‘What? I can’t hear you, speak up! What’s up with you?’ I-” she’s interrupted by Inumaki, who lets out a string of angry rice ball ingredient curse words. There’s a few mentaikos and iguras in there, which makes her proud. She lets him finish before starting again, rage rekindled at the memories. “So I walked over there like, ‘Oi, the fuck’s going on?’ And that ass is going on a tirade!
“Then he notices my phone and goes on about furries and shit and how disgusting we are, going around with a - fuck, I don’t even want to say it. And a degenerate animal-fucker, which would be funny in literally any other situation, but this guy was such a dick. I argued with him and he threatened to kick me and Inumaki out of the shop for being disrespectful. So I went behind the counter, snatched the mochi from the display cabinets in front of his shocked ass, slapped the cash down, gave him the bird, and left. We’re banned from there, by the way,” she finishes, sighing and looking to the side bitterly. “I genuinely don’t understand what some peoples’ problem is, and why they can’t just leave others alone.”
Gojo’s still smiling and chewing which pisses her off, but after a year with him as a teacher, she’d started to notice the little details in his expression. For example, the way his eyebrow twitches behind his bandages, the way the curve of his lip slightly straightens, the way his face hardens in place. The cursed speech user beside her doesn’t seem to notice, and glares in disappointment at their teacher. Boys are so stupid. She’s glad Gojo’s on their side, at least. She’s glad that he cares about them.
Anyway.
“You kiddos wanna egg that guy’s house?” he suggests offhandedly, and time stops. The air around them is thick with tension, and Gojo’s actually totally serious. They can feel him staring at them with his crystal blue eyes that may have cried limpid tears. Maki swears Panda’s irises flash red for a moment. Inumaki stands still and stares. It’s like everything the first-years have ever wished for, ever wanted in life, handed down to them on a silver platter. Panda remembers having an egg cracked on him accidentally (which made no sense to him at all, he’s a panda, how does one simply not notice him?) and feeling the inexplicable emotion of resentment and pure malice consuming his soul. Despite his efforts and his normally laid back attitude, he really did feel offended by that asshole cashier. He promptly decides his new favorite pastime is making people suffer. His classmates’ widening grins are an indication their long-tamped-down desires are now coming to fulfillment as well. Still, though…
“What will the higher-ups say? I’m a panda, and Yaga would be angry…” he says, a little downcast. More than egging the guy’s house (property damage is only good until it isn’t), he wanted to crack one on his head, but those stupid 'protect-non-sorcerers rules' really sucked ass. Gojo waves a hand flippantly. “Ah, who cares about them? You’re just a guy in a panda costume who got pissed off. Besides, don’t you wanna see him shitting his pants when he sees the furry he insulted online vandalising his place?” He cackles. “You’re a big guy, Panda! It’s worth it, just wait and see!” He pretends to wipe a tear from his eye, which might be the stupidest thing they have ever seen him do. He brings them thirteen cartons of eggs though, and the overkill ignites their murder instinct. Fuck yeah.
Gojo manages to track this guy down through the vague descriptions Maki offers, which really is impressive, she has to say. His address is a little ways into the city, a relatively large house with a full yard and everything. It’s around midnight, and their uniforms are dark enough that nobody can really see them. “How’s he even affording all this, working such a low-wage job?” Maki scoffs. “You sure this isn’t his parents’ place?” He gets a monthly allowance, Inumaki signs, and Maki barks out a laugh, instinctively snatching a dagger out of its sheath and waving it around wildly. Nobody knows why she does it, but they figure it must be a habit from her bloodlust-y cackles on the battlefield when she has a reason for carrying it. Gojo looks at them, amused as Inumaki warily steps back, and says, “Nah, he lives here all on his own. Maybe he’s stealing from his folks’ bank accounts. Wouldn’t put him past it.” He sets down the shopping bags he’s carrying, reaching into one and pulling out a carton. “Serves our purposes, though. Inumaki, want to do the honors?” The addressed’s eyes practically sparkle with enthusiasm as he eagerly exclaims, “Shake!” and nods his head. Gojo chuckles as the young sorcerer takes an egg out, measures its weight, and chucks it at a window, howling with glee when the yolk starts dripping. “Wow,” Panda remarks, “he really is batshit cray-cray,” before taking his own egg and throwing it where he estimates the guy’s bedroom to be. The craze truly begins after that. Maki’s hurtling eggs like a pitching machine, one after the other, her monster strength ensuring they land everywhere she aims. She breaks a window, and they pause for a moment before going for another round. Should he cultivate less violent hobbies in his students? Gojo thinks. Nah. Maki’s about to throw their last egg through the window she broke before Panda snatches it out of her hand. Gently, though.
“Oi, what the hell’s your problem?!” she seethes, making a grab for his paw. “Stop, Maki, I’m gonna break in!” he whisper-yells, raising his other paw to cover his mouth. Because it’s not like everybody in the neighbourhood can hear his big ass mouth already. Nevertheless, her eyebrows raise in astonishment. “You ballsy bitch,” she mutters, wonder painting her features. She pushes him towards the house, Inumaki shouting an encouraging, “Tuna mayo!” as she excitedly says, “Go do it, then! Go!”
Panda crawls through the broken window because it is a very big window and Maki is a monster who had an egg in her hand. He walks carefully up the stairs, that thankfully don’t creak under his weight, to the bedroom. He stands above the cashier and takes a deep breath. This is his time. This is his moment. He’d never been more prepared in his life. All the training he’s ever done, all the time he’s spent working, has led to this moment-
Crack. Egg go splat. “Damn,” he mutters, staring at his clenched fist and the gunk that drips from it. The cashier wakes upon impact and soon makes eye contact with a large bear with beady, black eyes standing above him. He screams. Henceforth, the air in the room smelled of sulfur and salmonella.
Thankfully, Panda had it on video. He balanced the phone between his head and his shoulder, camera on. The rest of the first-years had to commend his skill; it’s not easy to maintain a position like that while walking up stairs and cracking an egg on an asshole’s head. Back at Jujutsu Tech, Maki asks how he felt. “It was like breathing air for the first time,” he narrates, his classmates hanging on to his every word. “I felt on fire and every inch of me was blazing with some unnamed emotion. It was deep in my gut, and my vision was swimming and rose-pink. Something akin to arous-”
“Hey, kids! You had fun?” Gojo interrupts, banging open the door to the common room, coming from who knows where. Wasn’t he with them, though? They give him a thumbs-up and beam, faces glowing. “Thanks, Satoru!” Maki booms, smiling, all-teeth. He thinks he sees the glint of her dagger from its sheath. What a girl.
“Tell me anytime you meet people like that,” he smirks. “Next time we’ll fuck ‘em up good.” He puts a finger to his chin and adds, “And good job, Panda. Told ya it’d be worth it! Send that video to me.”
Gojo smiles to himself, sauntering out of that room and hearing his students’ excited chattering and loud guffaws. I’m definitely the best teacher ever.