Archive of Our Own ^beta

Shouri-sensei is... perplexing.

Shoko props her elbow on her knee, then rests her chin on the palm of her hand. Her sleepy eyes follow - or try to - the fast movements of her two other classmates engaged in an unholy, two-against-one spar with their martial arts teacher.

She could have retreated into the building and worked on her own Reverse Cursed Technique but she doesn't. Because one, Shouri-sensei told her to stay. And two, she was not passing up a chance to see Gojo getting humbled and Geto, of all people, getting ticked off. Her two yearmates are both Special Grades - 15-year-old boys with tremendous amounts of power to back up their egos, just that Gojo wears his on his sleeve while Geto is more refined with it.

"Damn it!"

Her droopy brown eyes find Geto skidding backwards over the grass after taking a hit, leaving the soil upturned in his wake. There is a cackle from Gojo on the other side of the field but it's cut off by an unmanly yelp - one he would never admit to making - when he too, is sent off like a skipping rock.

"Focus."

Shoko's gaze is drawn back to the commanding presence of Shouri-sensei, the man looking pristine with his dress shirt, tie, slacks, and dress shoes. He's wrangling two Special Grade teenagers with nary a wrinkle in sight. She hears Geto mumbling another curse word under his breath in a rare moment of irritation, while Gojo makes a noise that's between a snarl and a whine from the other end of the field, and Shoko chuckles under her breath, as this is one of the moments she was looking forward to.

Geto is usually composed and collected, giving off a cool aura, and relative to Gojo, has the patience of a saint. He's sure of himself in a way that seems mature for his age. On the other hand, Gojo wears his ego smack-dab in the middle of his forehead, and is the cocky type of self-assured, quick to taunt and poke fun at his opponents.

All of those attributes are kicked right out of the window whenever they spar with Shouri-sensei like this, evident in the way Geto would gradually lose his cool and increasingly get frustrated as the fight draws out, and in the way Gojo would get mouthier and visibly pissed off when Shouri-sensei gives him a taste of humility.

"You are too open, Satoru-kun. I taught you better than this." Shouri-sensei's voice is steady and commands attention, and Shoko watches him parry and block Gojo's hits, all the while shifting his limbs into better positions. "Too complacent. Too used to the idea that your technique will tank hits for you."

"Because it does exactly that, sensei!" Gojo yells, and Shoko can almost see the distortion in the air around him as he funnels more energy into his Limitless, determined not to be sent flying again.

"Wrong," Shouri-sensei replies, smiling amicably as he returns Gojo's, 'The fuck do you mean 'wrong'?!' with a calm, 'Language, Satoru-kun,' as he shifts his stance to accommodate Geto's re-entry into the brawl.

He pretty much does the same thing with Geto, using his own momentum against him and parrying hits while firmly redirecting limbs into optimal positioning. Shoko hears a snarl, though she's not sure which one of the boys made it this time, but she doesn't have the time to ponder it when Shouri-sensei pushes them both back for a bit.

"We shall proceed to the second phase. Satoru-kun, Geto-kun, feel free to use your techniques," he announces, and the glint in Geto's eyes with the sound of a cackle from Gojo is an unholy combination under the heat of the mid-day sun.

Shoko sits up a little straighter, and she watches with rapt attention as her two yearmates sync up like a well-oiled machine. She sees the way the ground underneath Geto swirls with shadows, teeming with a myriad of curses waiting to be summoned while Gojo distorts the air around him with the maximum output of his Limitless, along with an ominous, glowing ball of red that starts forming on his index finger.

Explosions would shake the entire campus then, and dust clouds reaching two to three storeys would form in the middle of the track field - all visible from Yaga's office who would bury his face in his hands at the imminent dread of being chewed out by the current principal, again.

Shoko coughs, eyes squinting through the dust and smoke.

"Well done, children," she hears past the mild ringing in her ears. Shoko sneezes, and blinks when Shouri-sensei enters her field of vision, dragging Geto and Gojo by the back of their collars like a pair of disgruntled cats. The older man is smiling proudly, having a content look on his face as he lugs the two 6-foot teenage boys along his every step, and she notices the faint ripple of a gold shield around his person.

She snickers at the sight of her thoroughly humbled Special Grade yearmates, coughing as she transitions to a cackle but winds up choking on air when Shouri-sensei directs his sunset-colored gaze to her and says-

"Your turn, Ieiri-san."

Shoko's mouth clamps shut, but she stands up rigidly and obeys.

She makes sure to kick the lump on the ground that is Gojo, who had pointed at her with a triumphant, 'Ha!' as she walks with Shouri-sensei over to the middle of the decimated field with trepidation.

Because Shouri-sensei will not go easy on her. He will not tip-toe around her because she is a girl, or treat her like porcelain because she is valuable with her technique, that it is told to everyone that she must be handled with care. What bullshit.

Shoko is a healer, that's true. Her best friends are Special Grades who can protect her with ease, that's true.

But her job is to keep people alive and she can't do that if she can't keep herself alive. Shoko wants to be able to take hits and be able to tell her allies to stay where the fuck you are, I'm fine. Keep fighting.

So she falls into a stance, obediently letting Shouri-sensei poke her limbs into place before he backs away, and gets into his own stance.

"Begin."

Shouri-sensei is kind.

Suguru blinks at the small bag of what looks like candy that his sensei deposits onto his open palms.

"Remedium Tertiorum," Shouri-sensei says, and it did not clear anything up for Suguru, which must have shown in his face by the way the older man chuckles softly, standing up from behind his desk.

"It takes a toll on you, Geto-kun, how you consume curses by the dozen for your Cursed Technique," Shouri-sensei says, and Suguru purses his lips to help school his expression. The topic of how he absorbs curses has never been something he was fond of discussing with anyone, even Satoru.

He looks down at the bag of candies in his hands with a mildly disgruntled look on his face. It would have been rude, but at this point, Suguru has grown hopeless over any and all attempts to alleviate the dreadfully shitty feeling he gets when he consumes curses, accompanied by the equally shitty taste.

So he has grown used to it, and for whoever is curious enough to ask, he always hones in on the taste aspect, and never bothers to fall into any sort of explanation on the cursed energy aspect. The aspect of how he absorbs negative energy into his own pathways and that it does not garner the same effect as Reverse Cursed Technique that blooms from negative multiplied by negative because it is apparently not possible to do that if the two negative energies have different, opposing sources, which prohibits those negative energies from canceling each other out. So Suguru just takes, takes, and takes more negative energy, and it wears him down, his mind, his soul, and he's self-aware enough to know that this will break him because he is fifteen-

He does not bother explaining that aspect to Shouri-sensei either.

Because he does not need to.

Whereas he expected Shouri-sensei to only brush the surface of his turmoil and empathize with how absorbing curses tastes like, he reads Suguru like an open book and tells him that he sees him, that it's not just the taste Suguru is bothered by.

Suguru's mouth falls agape as Shouri-sensei lays out details of his own silent suffering to him, and he feels exposed. He feels like an open book that's been read and dissected by his sensei's draconic eyes but Suguru doesn't mind it at all, oh no.

He feels relieved.

"Back in... China," Shouri-sensei says, and Suguru does not even notice the pause. "From the... sorcerers there, your case is rather similar to the effects of karmic debt."

"I... don't understand," Suguru breathes, eyes fixed on the tablets that are packaged like candy in his hands.

"The negative energy of all you have slain and absorbed lingers within you, Geto-kun," Shouri-sensei says softly. "That is not a burden meant to be carried by a child."

A child.

Suguru ducks his head, large hands curling around the candies. Since his strength was made known to the Jujutsu community, it's always been 'that Special Grade', 'one of the strongest', 'the sorcerer with Curse Manipulation'. He's been measured up by his ability to exorcise and kill that it made it hard for people to see him as what he is right now.

He is a fifteen year old child.

"Sensei-" he tries, but Shouri-sensei shushes him as he takes his dominant hand, leaving the other to hold the bag of candies - medicine, really.

"Those candies will help alleviate the negativity that has built up within your system," sensei tells him, before continuing. "And this, will help with the taste."

Suguru's head snaps up, and he watches as Shouri-sensei removes one glove, revealing a gold, gold hand with a texture akin to polished stone. Suguru is enthralled, but he asks no questions as his sensei turns Suguru's palm upwards, covering it with his own ethereal hand that glows gold with hints of orange.

He feels a tickle on his palm, and he twitches at the feeling that lasts all of three seconds before Shouri-sensei pulls away, revealing a symbol on Suguru's palm that he does not recognize. But it looks similar to what one would see on talismans.

"It functions like an open-ended storage subspace, with the other end leading directly into your cursed energy pathways," Shouri-sensei tells him, and the implications of it make Suguru stand up a little straighter, head snapping up in shock as he stares at his sensei.

The man smiles at him, and Suguru's heart jumps to his throat when his teacher says, "With this, you don't need to eat curses, Geto-kun."

Suguru swallows the lump in his throat, slowly looking down at the seal on his palm, flexing his hand open and closing it for a bit.

For all of his height of six feet as a growing fifteen year old, Suguru feels small as he ducks his head, not at all minding the strands that fall loose from his neat bun as Shouri-sensei reaches up to pat him.

.

Later that day, Shouri-sensei would find him again with a dish in hand, and Suguru would try to shove his nosy yearmates away as he takes the plate from his sensei with a confused thank you.

He would try it, under the watchful gaze of his two friends and his sensei as he savors the taste, in a way that he's never been able to before.

Suguru tries not to get emotional when Shouri-sensei asks him how he likes it, and he could only nod in a positive response, before asking what the dish is called.

"Almond tofu," his sensei tells him with a small smile, before giving him another pat on the head. He does the same to Shoko and Satoru - whose Infinity's arbitrary buzzing completely dies down to have his hair ruffled by their sensei.

Suguru is quiet when Shouri-sensei disappears down the hall, and the boy's gaze is transfixed on the seal on his palm, as he suddenly remembers the bag of medicine tablets disguised as candies sitting in pocket.

Satoru nudges him with a shoulder, and Shoko elbows him in the side, both his gremlins for friends trying to get his attention.

All is well.

Sensei is dependable.

Unlike Suguru and Shoko, Satoru met their - his - sensei years, years ago.

He remembers that day vividly, even though he was only six years old. His Eyes burned the memory deep within his soul- the very moment he stepped into his father's study and was introduced to a 'kind, gentleman from China' who would help him polish his technique.

By China's standards and hierarchy for sorcerers, or whatever they were called there, Shouri-san - whose real name is Zhongli, Satoru notes - would be equivalent to a Special Grade in Japan. He's never met one before, not even his own country's only Special Grade sorcerer, the Tsukumo woman.

No matter, Satoru will join their ranks soon anyway.

His Eyes had immediately soaked in the brilliant, golden light emanating from Zhongli, and he knew that the other man noticed it, noticed how Satoru saw far more than any other normal human could. Satoru saw everything.

He expected Zhongli to be in awe, or even be fearful of his Eyes, and of the power buzzing under his skin. He expected the man to be like anyone else, to be like the rest of his tutors, with awe in their voices and greed in their eyes.

But Satoru saw none of that when he looked up at Zhongli and was met with a gentle gaze. His eyes are the color of sunset - no, sunrise, tinged with an amber glow, and his pupils are white, shaped like a rhombus. Satoru's lips parted in a breath, and he wondered if this was how other people felt when they saw his own Six Eyes. His Eyes, which bore the color of the sky- stared right into Zhongli's which carried the light of the sun in them.

"Hello, Gojo-kun," he heard the man say, his voice deep and mellow. Satoru was quiet as the man descended onto one knee in front of him. Not in reverence, but simply to be at eye level with him.

"Would you like to take a walk with me?"

Satoru said yes.

.

Only after a year and a half would Satoru find the answer to the question that's been simmering in his brain. And he does so on accident.

He's fairly certain it's a discussion he's not meant to hear yet, one he stumbles upon as he turns the corner leading into the sunroom on the west wing of the Gojo estate.

He hears his mother's voice, along with Shouri-sensei's.

Satoru is about to walk over and make his presence known when he stops, eyes widening for a fraction when he hears-

"...ow does my son fare compared to the previous user?"

"Satoru-kun already shows greater potential than Ieyasu at his age."

'Ieyasu?' Satoru freezes. He knows that name. He knows that name- that name has been ingrained into his brain from all the texts and clan records he has poured over in nigh manic obsession to learn everything and anything he can gather about him. Gojo Ieyasu, the previous user of both Six Eyes and Limitless.

But how...?

Perhaps, like Tengen? Tengen is said to possess a cursed technique that makes them immortal, and that no one alive has ever seen them. And their specialty is... barriers, shields...

Is Zhongli Tengen all along?

Satoru, seven turning eight years old with a conspiracy theory brewing in his brain, scurries away, his socked feet padding softly over the polished hardwood floors. He is oblivious to the draconic eyes that turn to the direction of his previous hiding spot, amused and twinkling.

.

With the stubbornness of a seven-year-old and the self-assuredness of a tiny god, Satoru corners his sensei three days later in the tea room, confronting him with the truth that he's been hiding from Satoru. The truth about how he - an outsider who is not a member of the Gojo clan - was somehow the most qualified to guide Satoru through the prized techniques of his clan instead of a family member.

And the confrontation ends with Satoru, for the first time in his life, feeling embarrassed as Zhongli laughs heartily, patting the boy's head with utmost affection.

He sits there, head ducked and ears red as Zhongli softly explains everything ("No, little one, I am not Tengen. Although they are a good friend of mine.") all the while running his fingers through Satoru's snowy hair and occasionally sneaking him some candy.

.

Even on days when he has no lessons with Zhongli, Satoru would take to shadowing him, little feet padding after him like a duckling while equipped with every question under the sun. What are you the god of? Am I a god? Did you meet Buddha? What about Jesus? Wow, sensei, you're old old.

His sensei would only laugh, continuing on his walk as he holds out a gloved hand by his side, and Satoru would walk faster to catch up, Limitless fizzling out as his small hand curls around two fingers and he pelts the older man with more questions.

Sensei tries to answer him the best he can, and Satoru, even with his head tilted upwards so he can have his Eyes trained on his sensei's serene expression, sees how a faint shield ripples around Zhongli, and how the older man extends it so Satoru is inside it too.

And Satoru feels warm.

.

'I'm the strongest,' would become a mantra Satoru would tell himself as he grows into his teenage years. Eventually, it would become, 'We are the strongest,' when he meets Suguru in Jujutsu Tech.

He'd learn not to depend on people, because as the first Six Eyes and Limitless user in four hundred years, he is someone who shifted the balance of this world when he was born. He's learned of the weight that comes with the crown of the strongest, how his shoulders grow heavier as he gets older.

Every passing glance and awe-filled interaction he's had with other people since childhood comes with expectations as they look at him and think, 'this boy will change the world.' And Satoru smothers it all down behind the pitch black of his glasses, cocky grins, and snarky remarks.

He embraces the titles people have placed upon his head and lives up to them. The Strongest. Six Eyes. Limitless. Special Grade Sorcerer. Gojo Satoru, as his family name alone carries its own weight that feels impersonal. He wears it all with pride, and he becomes arrogant in a way he believes is warranted.

But that facade momentarily falls as he walks onto the school's track field for his first martial arts class as a first year, when he sees his sensei - Zhongli-sensei - standing in the middle of the field with a soft smile and his hands behind his back.

"You may call me Shouri-sensei. I'll be your martial arts teacher for this year, and the following years to come."

He ignores the way Suguru and Shoko regard him with a weird look as he beams, lips tugged into a happy grin instead of a cocky smirk, "Sensei!"

"Hello, Satoru-kun."

.

He'd make it a habit to visit Zhongli's office every other day, if not every day. The quaint space is more than enough for him to serve as a reprieve from the outside world where people look at him and see him as a pillar of Jujutsu society.

Except for his sensei.

His sensei, who once barged into the higher-up's audience chamber with a raging fury thrumming under his skin that made the entire room descend into silence. The elders, who summoned Satoru on the topics of hunting down a family of curse users, ('Make sure to kill their spawns as well,' they'd said,) and of picking a bride who is 'already bleeding in order to produce heirs as soon as possible,' (he's fifteen!) are rendered quiet when sensei puts his foot down, and Satoru is dumbstruck when he sees the usually collected man - god - snarl, with a faint trace of scales rippling over the skin of his jaw.

The shoji screens shake under the pressure of his sensei's power, and Satoru feels his Limitless vibrate in response. His sensei does not wait for a rebuttal from the higher-ups, and promptly herds Satoru out, into the corridors, and finally guiding the boy inside his office.

His safe space, where he can allow himself to shed the weight that comes with his power and titles, because for sensei, he is Satoru. 

Just Satoru.

"You cryin'?"

Shoko - second year and sleep deprived - chuckles under her breath, an unlit cigarette stick between her lips as she watches the spectacle of her yearmates being synchronized in poking fun at their senpai as if they rehearsed it. She shakes her head as she watches Utahime-senpai fume, becoming red in the face. It does not help when Mei-san jumps in, though indirect and lighthearted.

"Utahime-senpai," she calls, giving her poor senpai reprieve, "Are you alright? I was really worried. I haven't heard from senpai for two days."

Shoko side-eyes Gojo who snickers beside her, merely bracing herself and shifting her cigarette to the side as Utahime-senpai engulfs her in a hug, wailing for her not to turn out like her classmates.

"I won't," she reassures the older girl lightheartedly.

She closes her eyes, swaying this way and that as Utahime-senpai's grip stays on her person while the whole group descends into banter, then discussing the time distortion experienced by their senpai and Mei-san in the domain.

"By the way, all of you, where is the curtain?" Mei-san asks with a pleasant smile on her face.

Collective 'eh?'s are heard from the group, her included, as they realize that no curtain has been put up at all.

.

Shoko sprawls out on the court with a huff, mind already moving past the scolding they got from Yaga-sensei just now. Well, it was Gojo's fault. No need for a curtain, he said. It'll be fine, he said.

And yet, he pulls out a Blue that is larger than necessary to dismantle the domain from the outside. The technique itself is flashy enough, but it is accompanied by the noise of a whole building being torn apart and pipes exploding - it's no surprise that without a curtain, the commotion ended up on the news.

She hears a yelp from Gojo, who is sitting down hunched over his phone somewhere closeby. She doesn't bother looking at his direction when he lets out a despaired noise. "Yaga tattled on me to sensei!"

"Sounds fun," Geto's amusement bleeds into his dry tone, as he looks over Gojo's shoulder to look at the text he received from their martial arts teacher. "Guess you'll be having a good time during our next lesson when Shouri-sensei comes back from China."

"Oh?" Shoko's interest is piqued now, and she sits up to scoot over, resting her chin on Gojo's shoulder as she peers down at his phone. She sees Shouri-sensei's text as well, his message oddly bearing a pleasant enough tone despite the ominous feeling behind the part 'In light of this, Yaga-san requested for me to conduct a separate lesson plan for you when I get back, Satoru-kun. :)'.

Shoko snickers as Gojo spams crying kaomojis in his reply, and plucks his glasses from his snowy head to try them on. Geto kicks a stray basketball over to Gojo who is grumbling under his breath, and she ignores them as she inspects her looted item.

"I can't see a thing in these," she mumbles to herself, trying different angles to see if she'd have better luck if the light hit the glasses differently.

She vaguely hears Gojo complaining - whining - about curtains, if it really matters whether 'normies' get to witness their jujutsu or not. Geto shoots a reply at him, and Shoko's interest in Gojo's glasses wanes so she stands up and puts it back on his face, before walking off to the side as the boys start to engage in a little basketball game while having an impromptu moral debate.

"You're just trying to make yourself feel better by spouting bullshit. Yuck," she hears Gojo taunt, and she takes that as a cue to make herself scarce as she feels both their cursed energies spiking in agitation.

"Time to run," Shoko chimes, more to herself than anything as she jogs towards the double doors of the gym.

She's made it out by the time she hears Geto offering to take the fight outside, and Shoko could only send a quick prayer heavenward for Yaga-sensei who would be dealing with the imminent property damage. Ideally, Shoko would run to get Shouri-sensei for times like this - because this is not the first time Gojo and Geto butted heads - but their martial arts teacher is away in China.

Oh well. It's a good time for a smoke anyway.

"Tengen asked for the both of you specifically?"

"Yes, Shouri-sensei," Suguru answers with a nod, even though the gesture is unseen. His sensei's voice is clear through the phone despite the winds brushing past Suguru as he sits on the steps leading up to the school. 

He stares out towards the setting sun, wondering if it's also anywhere close to setting where Shouri-sensei is.

"I see. You understand what will become of the girl?" he hears the other man ask, and Suguru responds with an affirmative answer again, though he purses his lips at the idea. He understands that Tengen's continued immortality is paramount to the entirety of the Jujutsu society, what with their barriers serving as part of the very backbone that holds it up. But Amanai Riko is fourteen... thirteen? Ah, no, he should not think about it any more than necessary. This is a mission.

Right. Just another mission.

"We've been briefed already," Suguru says, slouching forward to prop up his elbows on his knees.

"And Satoru?"

"Made his infernal Digimon analogies about the merging," Suguru supplies with a snort, though the humor of it falls dry on his own tongue.

He hears Shouri-sensei hum, before the older man steers the conversation elsewhere. "How is your seal? Do you have enough medicine left for the trip?"

"I think I should be fine, sensei. You'll be back in two weeks, right?"

"That's right, Suguru-kun," he hears his sensei say. Suguru's lips tug upward into a smile at the way the man addresses him. Last year, only Satoru was referred to by his first name, but the privilege eventually extended to Suguru and Shoko - which Satoru had whined about.

"But, as always, don't be stubborn, both of you. I know you two are the strongest, but if anything happens..." 

"Yes, yes, sensei," Suguru huffs out a laugh, his voice sounding fond.

"We'll call you."

.

A bounty. Of course there's a bounty.

Why wouldn't there be a fucking-

Suguru exhales slowly, watching as Riko waddles through shallow water to get away from Satoru who's chasing her with a sea cucumber. Their laughter is in a symphony with the gentle waves, the mid-day breeze, and the distant squawking of seagulls. Kuroi is silent beside him, but there's a gentle smile on her face as she watches her young miss, though Suguru does not miss the way her fingers dig into her own skin despite the soft look on her face.

"Is it really okay for us to come sightseeing?"

Suguru perks up, head turning slightly towards Kuroi. He studies the expression on her face from the corner of his eyes, as it turns into something a bit more apprehensive but no less soft.

He lets out a small sigh, "This is Satoru's suggestion. He is also caring for Riko-chan in his own way."

Suguru pauses, mind circling back to the threat of their ward attracting bounty hunters from one end of Japan to the other. He stands up, eyes turning back towards the other two who are frolicking in the water, "But we should get going now."

Suguru brings one hand up to the side of his mouth, as he yells, "Satoru! It's time."

And he observes.

He sees the way Riko's lips curl into a pout, cheeks puffing as her head lolls dejectedly. He sees the way Satoru notices her wilting like a puppy in the rain, and the way Satoru visibly thinks. Mentally deliberates. All the while he sports an expression on his face that is unreadable, but not unkind.

'And you deny being soft,' Suguru muses, a fond but knowing look crossing his own face as he sees Satoru nod to himself, having decided. "Suguru, let's go back tomorrow morning."

He sighs, and there's a bit of a quiet back and forth between them when Satoru approaches, making excuses - "The weather's stable!" and "There are fewer curse users here in Okinawa." - that Suguru half-heartedly rebukes with one detail or another about their bounty problem, though he already knows deep down he's going to agree anyway.

Still, he feels the need to point out, "Satoru. You haven't deactivated your technique since yesterday. You haven't slept at all, and you won't sleep tonight either."

But Satoru, with a bleeding heart he'll deny come hell or high water, only bumps his fist over Suguru's chest. "It's fine."

So Suguru stands there, chest rising as he takes in a slow breath and holds it, when his bullheaded best friend says, with palpable trust Suguru's not sure he deserves-

"Besides, you're here too."

.

And Suguru sees.

Suguru sees the way Satoru watches Riko with a certain look on his face, a sharpness in his blue Eyes that's been glowing constantly for nearly two days now, indicative of his technique being perpetually activated. A feat he would never admit is straining him.

He sees the way Satoru gets this- pondering expression when Riko laughs boisterously, and expresses herself a bit too loudly. He sees how Satoru notices Kuroi too, how the attendant's smile is soft and happy but her eyes are sad and dull.

He sees the way Riko's eyes are wide and greedy as she takes in all the sights, the colors, and everything she lays her bright but sad eyes on, as if it's her last, because it is her last - and he sees how Satoru notices the same thing.

And later, much later, when Riko stands at an exhibit at the aquarium and drops her smile because she thinks no one is looking - Suguru sees the way Satoru comes to a decision.

He glances at him, and he knows Satoru notices him looking.

"What will you do now?" Suguru asks.

Satoru is silent for a few tense moments, and says-

"Are these your personal feelings, Satoru-kun?"

"Yes. It's personal," Satoru says, his tone resolute as his glowing blue Eyes stare out into the tranquil sea that's turning orange under the setting sun.

Sensei is dependable, he thinks, and with his pride nowhere to be found, he asks.

"Please do something about it, sensei."

There is silence on the other end of the line for a moment, before his sensei's deep chuckle comes through, a comforting sound that makes Satoru take in a hopeful breath.

"Very well, since my precious student is asking."

'Sensei is dependable.'

"Leave it to me, Satoru-kun."

Masamichi did not expect the day to turn out this way, he really didn't.

Gojo and Geto were supposed to come back to Jujutsu Tech today, but they'd been in Okinawa since yesterday for a little detour that Gojo - the brat - has yet to elaborate on. Geto at least informs him that their delay is due to Amanai's wishes, which they were requested to indulge as per Tengen's orders, and this placates Yaga, though he tells the boys not to dally for too long.

"Tomorrow," he tells Geto with a tone that leaves no room for arguments. While he doesn't advise them against letting Amanai enjoy her journey to Jujutsu Tech, like some kind of consolation for her march to the guillotine, it's also of utmost priority to get her to the school soon, if not for the merge, then to ensure she's sheltered as soon as possible from curse users trying to get a shot at her increasing bounty.

"Understood," he hears Geto say, and he only huffs in response before hanging up and pocketing his phone.

Despite sending two sixteen-year-olds as Amanai's escorts, Masamichi bears some faith in the fact that if there is anyone in Japan right now who can handle a mission as important as this, then it's those two brats. Tengen had the same idea as well, hence this predicament.

So Masamichi, while still mostly on edge and would be unable to fully relax until the merge has been done and dealt, tries to sink into his chair, tries to ease the tension in his own shoulders because it will be alright. The mission will succeed. Those brats would be fine.

The rest of the day would be uneventful and would lull him into a sense of security, though he would tense up every time he gets a text from Geto as an update only to relax again because they are, in fact, doing fine. What is he even worried about? 

Until-

Shouri walks into the barriers of Jujutsu Tech - his unannounced presence making a ripple that momentarily shakes the barriers - and this makes Masamichi rise from his seat in the teacher's lounge with very visible confusion on his face because Shouri isn't supposed to be back from China for at least two more weeks.

"I need to see Tengen," is the first thing the man says, his expression giving nothing away as Masamichi intercepts him on the way to the pagoda.

"Why?" he prods, confused as he adds, "Tengen is not stable right now, Shouri-san, you know this. The only person allowed to come within their presence from here on out is the vessel."

Shouri stares at him with an unsettling sharpness in his gaze, his oddly draconic eyes emitting an amber glow that pierces straight through Masamichi's soul and he hears it- a hum through the barriers of the school, vibrating and somehow conveying a message straight to Masamichi's conscious telling him to-

'Let him in.'

Tengen.

Masamichi is quiet as Shouri walks past him, disappearing into the wooden doors of Tengen's pagoda.

.

"I..." Masamichi stammers, his back turned towards the vast expanse of white, white walls and tall, tall shoji screens that separated him and Tengen. The old immortal summoned him hours later, and Shouri is nowhere to be found, to which Masamichi swears he has not even seen the other teacher exit the pagoda. "I don't understand."

He is in Tengen's presence now, as per the summons, but he does not allow himself to set his eyes on the immortal and instead situates himself beyond the shoji screens while facing the door he came in through.

Masamichi tries to ignore the way he staggers when Tengen answers, in a distinctly more female-sounding voice than he remembers, less distorted and significantly clearer.

"You may inform Amanai Riko that I require her presence no longer."

"Pardon?" Masamichi's voice is low, and he is confused as much as he is tense.

"I have been illuminated, Yaga Masamichi."

"The merging has been called off."

Satoru sucks in a sharp breath, sitting upright so quickly and rigidly that it makes Suguru tense up from across the room, as well as Kuroi. Amanai perks up from her spot on the couch, picking up on the sudden change in the atmosphere.

"How?" he croaks into the receiver, his mind whirling with questions and his heart fluttering with hope. He glances at Suguru, before setting down his phone on the coffee table and putting it on loudspeaker.

'How did you do it, sensei?'

He could almost imagine Yaga's frown, as his homeroom teacher explains, "Tengen has stabilized. Shouri-san suddenly arrived this morning from China, and went straight to the pagoda. I didn't see him come back out but Tengen summoned me and told me to inform the vessel that she's no longer needed. Tengen said they've been... 'illuminated', whatever that means."

"'Called off'? Shouri-sensei- wait, what the hell? Satoru," Suguru pushes himself off of where he was leaning against the wall, taking a few steps towards his classmate.

Yaga continues, "Both of you will continue escorting Amanai Riko to Jujutsu Tech. Her bounty is still active. She will be safe here until it is called off."

Satoru slumps against the backrest of the armchair he was lounging on, absently noticing the way Amanai started to reach for Kuroi with wobbly lips and tearful eyes. Suguru walks towards him with urgency and probably a thousand questions on his lips, and Satoru could only breathe out a hoarse, "Gotcha, Yaga-sensei," before the phone call cuts off.

"What did he do?" Suguru asks him, the words sounding like a low hiss through gritted teeth. "Yaga said he didn't come back out."

Satoru is not worried. Something deep-seated within him tells him Shouri-sensei is fine despite the way these recent developments were relayed to them. Because out of everyone he knows, barring Tengen and his parents, Satoru is the only one who knows what Shouri-sensei is and what he's capable of.

'Sensei is dependable.'

Sensei is strong. Strong enough to tell even the strongest to, lay back, I'll handle this, and Satoru would fully relax because he knows Zhongli can and will do exactly as he says.

He glances at Suguru, as he picks up his phone again from the coffee table and dials the man of the hour's number.

It rings once.

Twice.

Satoru is not worried.

Thrice.

"Satoru-kun."

Suguru, for all the confusion still evident on his face, hunches a little as his shoulders sag in relief. And Satoru... Satoru laughs.

"How the hell did you do it, sensei?"

Sensei's deep chuckle feels like a warm hug.