Chapter Text
To be completely honest, Suguru had suspected someone had been watching him for a while, but he hadn’t expected his suspicions to be confirmed so soon, or like this. No, this was much crazier than he had ever anticipated, and Suguru had been through some crazy things compared to other kids his age.
It was about five months prior to the day everything changed that Suguru had started eating the monsters he’d found in the woods. Though, to be fair, he found them everywhere and ate them whenever he could. Sure, they were gross to look at, but he’d been looking at them for his entire life. Eating them was only marginally odder than poking at them or leaving them be as he walked by. They’d fulfilled something in him he hadn’t known needed to be filled. There wasn’t any purpose to it, yet, besides fueling his own needs, but Suguru didn’t mind that.
It’d been a long day for him when he got home that afternoon. Or, well, it was closer to evening, actually. Suguru was wearing his middle school’s uniform, the buttons mostly undone in the cool spring air. The school year was almost done, and the snow had melted completely in the southern-central town of Nishigo. Suguru hadn’t been at school, though, so really, he couldn’t count it as a difficult day. He’d done nothing but look around for the monsters, smoke, and buy drinks from the convivence store with a couple of classmates he tolerated.
Suguru didn’t bother to knock on the door of his small house, assuming his parents were already back from work. The only odd thing he noticed absentmindedly as he opened the front door were the two cars parked across the street. His parents didn’t drive, and he was pretty certain no one was coming over.
Slipping off his shoes and letting his bag drop off his shoulders, Suguru stepped into the house.
Voices. Huh. There were multiple voices coming from the living room. More than two- which meant his parents did in fact have people over. He hoped to god it wasn’t the school counselors. He’d never hear the end of it. His parents would be pissed that he wasn’t even considering studying for his high school entrance exams. It wasn’t like his grades were that awful, he could probably get into an okay school. He just wasn’t trying. There wasn’t a point in trying in school.
He’d probably get killed by one of the monsters at some point or another, get labelled a missing or dead person, and the world would move on. Just another mysterious murder. At least, that’s what the books and the manga would point to his future being, if he really was in some supernatural story. Hopefully it wasn’t a horror.. Or a romance. He couldn’t imagine a world in which the monsters he saw and romance were somehow connected.
Carefully, stepping quietly down the hall, Suguru made his way to the living room. He made it to the closed door, his feet on the carpeted floors of the dark wood hall right before the living room. Checking his breath to see if it still smelled of cigarette smoke, Suguru opened the door, doing his best to not look like a picture of guilt. Coming home later than usual was already incriminating.
The people he sees sitting with his parents are most defiantly not the people he expected to see. The expressions on his parents faces are also extremely jarring, nothing like how he’d pictured in his mind.
Suguru scrunched his face up in confusion for only a moment, fixing it when his parents and the two strangers sitting on the couch across from his mother looked at him.
His father was standing, leaning on the couch behind his mother. Both their faces were stern, a little surprised at seeing Suguru. Suguru couldn’t quite tell if they were looking at him with something different than their usual fondly harsh love, or their concerned attachment. They seemed surprised to see him here so soon, though. Which was odd.
“Hello,” Suguru greeted awkwardly, looking at the two strangers. “I’m sorry, am I interrupting?” he tacked on, not wanting to seem like he’d barged in rudely on purpose. He was at least polite in front of strangers; that was something he stuck to. Be polite to the adults- smile when you have to- get away with sneaking smokes into school. Or something like that. Politeness wasn’t lying, it was just artful deceit, and if it got his teachers to like him well enough despite his delinquent tendencies, he’d use it to his advantage.
The first person was an old man, wrinkled and half-dead in his spot on the couch, if Suguru were to describe him honestly. He was wearing clothes that would be considered outdated 500 years ago, an odd number of talismans on the wooden necklace he wore. His hair was grey and buzzed short. His dark brown eyes observed Suguru in a way that made him feel as though he could see through him.
The second person was also a man, but much younger than the first. He wore a simple black jacket and pants of the same colour. His hair was brown; his skin tanned a little darker than most people in Suguru’s hometown. On his face were garish goggles, or glasses; Suguru couldn’t really tell. He just knew they looked rather odd on his face. He was sat next to the older man, though not very closely. They must be colleagues.
They weren’t from his school, though. That he knew for certain. So why were his parents talking to these strange men?
“Suguru,” said his father, voice stern as it always was. He pushed the light-frame glasses up the bridge of his nose with a soft closed mouth sigh. “Would you sit down for a moment?”
Suguru nodded, unsure what else to do. He supposed he would find out just what they were talking about soon. It could be anything, anything at all. Maybe this was all some elaborate scheme to get him to study more? No, his mother wouldn’t allow that. He really was at a loss.
Sitting down next to his mother, Suguru avoided the very obvious gazes of the two men. They were still staring right at him. He could tell, even if the younger man was wearing those awful goggles.
Suguru straightened his back, hands folded in his lap as he let a neutral smile grace his face. Keep his posture upright, keep his face from falling into a grimace. Those were the two things he had to focus on. Not the general weirdness and the tense air that hung between all of them.
“These men here are offering you something very special,” his father began, “And your mother and I would like you to hear them out,”
That could mean anything from a place at a school, or a place in a nicotine addicts rehab center. Suguru wasn’t addicted to smoking, he swore to god.
Suguru nodded instead of voicing those thoughts, foot tapping anxiously on the ground despite himself.
“Of course,” he said, “I’d be happy to hear them out,” he said, looking to his father and his mother once before turning his gaze back at the men. They weren’t observing him as harshly as before.
“Good,” his father said, before standing up fully, his arms no longer resting on the couch. He left the room without another word.
“We’ll be making dinner,” his mother said, giving a genuinely friendly smile to the men and then patting Suguru once on the shoulder before following his father out. The small door closed behind them, leaving Suguru alone with the strangers.
Damnit. Suguru really wanted to scream right now. This hadn’t been how’d he imagined his evening going. He’d been expecting a scolding for getting home late, dinner at midnight as he got the leftovers out himself, and then staying up till one am before finally passing out.
“Geto-kun,” the older man began, “I’m Principal Akiyama, and this is my associate Yaga-san, who is also teacher at the school I run. We’ve discussed only a few things with your parents, but we are here to offer you a position at my school,”
Suguru listened with clenched fists, trying not his best to make sure his panic didn’t make it to his face. Fuck. This couldn’t be anything good. His grades were mediocre, he didn’t play on any sports teams, he wasn’t a part of a single club... how the hell could he be receiving attention from people like this? Unless he was being sent off to a mental institution? That could be it.
“Pardon me, sir,” Suguru began, planning his words carefully, “But what sort of school do you mean? I haven’t applied for any high schools yet, I would have remembered if I’d taken the exam for yours,”. He only noticed that his words implied he found the two strange after he’d said them. Ah, well, he could probably afford to offend them once or twice. It wasn’t like they’d just up and leave.
“Don’t be worried, young man,” Akiyama said, adjusting his grip on the wooden cane he held in his left hand. “Our school is an elite religious academy, meant for people such as ourselves who possess the unique ability to see cursed spirits. You possess that ability, do you not?”
Okay. So this was a trap. A very well played trap. Suguru personally had to commend whoever thought this would be a good way to get him sent to some mental institution. Because it was probably going to work. He had a few options here. If he said “yes”, which was the truth (he assumed by ‘cursed spirit’ they meant the creepy ghostlike monsters he saw and ate that no one else seemed to ever see), then they’d label him crazy. He’d stopped telling his mom about the creatures ages ago, though, so why would it be an issue now? If he said “no”, they’d either be offended he was doubting him, say he passed whatever little test they had, or call him a liar until he confessed the truth. This was stupid.
His eye twitches once before Suguru manages to tamp down his emotions and make a choice. He had to use logic sometimes, he supposed.
Taking a steady breath, Suguru looked at Akiyama in the eye and without missing a beat, he raised his hand and summoned one of the monsters from his gut.
In a short swirl of blue, right beside Suguru, appeared a small monster he’d caught. It was round and white, grey splotches marring its skin where its huge buggish eyes sprouted from its round torso. The thing had black wings, and hovered next to Suguru lazily, not going anywhere Suguru didn’t allow it to.
Almost immediately, the two men’s eyes went straight to the monster, jolting out of the calm presence they had managed to manifest for most of this abrupt meeting.
Suguru almost regretted his choice immediately. Why the fuck had he done that-
Yaga stood up, his fist poised to hit it, blue light swirling around it, flaring up like sparks on a candle.
“Wait- stop- crap!” Suguru exclaimed, standing up himself. He held out his hand and let the spirit move out of the way of the incoming punch “It won’t attack you!” He said, before allowing it to disappear into thin air once again. The spirit promptly escaped existence.
Suguru swallowed, looking at Yaga’s grimace of an expression as he tried to recalibrate himself. Suguru had almost tripped on the carpet when he stood.
“Sorry, that was my fault-”
“Geto-kun- are you aware that a cursed spirit was-” Yaga began but was cut off by a sharp thawk to his leg by Akiyama’s cane. He sat down.
“Yes, I summoned it,” Suguru replied, letting out a slight sigh of relief. The men could actually see the thing. That meant he wasn’t about to be sent away or charted off to some weird mumbo jumbo religious organization. It meant they were legit about this. It had been his only way to test them, and he almost regretted it, but it had worked, hadn’t it? The hammering in his chest died a bit.
The tension in the room slowly bled away as Akiyama lowered his cane once more, leveling Suguru with a look that almost made him more nervous than before.
He sat down again, trying to regain some composure. He sure wasn’t acting like the polite kid he put his best foot forward to look like. Well, fuck.
“You controlled the cursed spirit, then?” Akiyama said, obviously guessing at how Suguru’s weird little power worked. Honestly. Suguru wasn’t sure himself.
He nodded. “I did. I’ve been able to do this for around five months,” he said, not sure if he should be adding on that extra information or not. Was it irregular for people who could see spirits to also be able to eat them and summon them? Probably?
The tale that the men tell him, (well, mostly Akiyama speaks), is fantastical to say the least. They’re from an elite school that teaches children like him how to harness their abilities, which have everything to do with seeing the cursed spirits. Cursed spirits and their origins are dark things, and Suguru is apparently lucky he hasn’t been killed by them yet. He has cursed techniques explained to him, and told he most likely had this technique since birth.
And well, he’d like to say he doesn’t believe them. That this sounds far too similar to some western story where a boy discovers he has magical powers and is whizzed off to a school where his entire life changes for the better, but Suguru can’t deny that it sounds true.
As if sensing his mistrust, at one point, Akiyama summons his cursed energy, and the fact Suguru can even see it must mean something. He really shouldn't be so quick to believe these people, but they offer him an explanation to everything he thought was wrong with his life.
They’ve given him a solution, a way out, and a purpose. Isn’t that all he could have asked for? A way to be a good person, to solve his issues with morality, and a direction to walk in. It’s all he’s wanted. For someone to tell him he wasn’t crazy for seeing the things he did, and for doing what he did.
Suguru could barely remember the rest of the conversation between him and Akiyama. (Yaga barely participated in talking). All he knew was that he asked enough questions for them to be satisfied with his curiosity, was told his “technique” was powerful enough for him to begin school in April at their high school, and that his martial arts skills would be useful. He’d basically be a doctor and ninja, from what he could gather. This was like those anime, Pokémon, and Card Captor Sakura mixed into one odd plot-line.
His parents were simply told that he was being given a place at a prestigious private academy. A religious academy, but an academy nonetheless, and on a scholarship. A scholarship that Suguru had most defiantly not applied for but was being offered anyways. His parents would assume he had been studying, at least.
What an unexpected turn.
Suguru would process it all later.
--
Later would turn out to mean two weeks later at the end of the school year, a week before he was to be sent off to the edges of Tokyo to start his life as a sorcerer. What a fancy term.
Suguru had sat on the roof of his modern-built house, cigarette in hand as he looked up at the clouded sky. The chill of the air wasn’t too bad, but it bit at his nose a little annoyingly, so he kept the stub of his cigarette by his nose. He probably wouldn’t burn his skin. Probably.
He exhaled carefully, running one hand through his now shoulder length hair. Should he cut it before attending the school? He’d rather not. It was a hassle to cut it, and he liked how it looked. Occasionally, he’d cut layers into it himself. They were messy, but he didn’t mind. His one bang always stood out on the side of his face, though, no matter how he styled his hair. It just seemed to like sticking there.
That was all the least of his worries, though. He should be focusing on preparing for his move. His mother kept throwing cardboard boxes in his room, hoping it would encourage him to pack. It, in fact, did not.
It wasn’t like he was procrastinating packing. He just didn’t have much to pack. His room was fine the way it was, with his posters, manga, and the numerous piles of baggy pants and sweaters he owned. Honestly, he didn’t want to take much of it to Jujutsu High. Or the “Technical College for Gifted Spirtualists” as his parents had been sold on, keeping them hidden from the real truth of cursed spirits.
Suguru was glad they weren’t involved. It would keep them safer not to know. Curses were horrible things, really, and Suguru was more than happy he could keep his parents safe. Just the thought of something happening to them because of all of this... it made Suguru sick.
He loved them, he really did.
Suguru took another drag of his cigarette before putting it out on the roof tile, standing up afterwards. He clambered in through his window, closing it with a sharp shuck when he stood in his room.
The lights were too bright.
--
The school was on a mountain top. Of course it was on a mountain top! Where else would a school like that possibly be? It wasn’t like Suguru was expecting it to be in the middle of Tokyo, no. That made no sense. Why would it be in the bustling and hustling of the city, when this was the perfect place to sit around and meditate?
Despite his lack of knowledge on meditation, besides the few times he’d participated in it during his martial arts classes, Suguru was determined to do well with it, if he was forced to take part. Just as he was set on doing well on everything here. Unlike his classes in school, there was an actual reason to this. A purpose that didn’t just serve himself.
Now that was something Suguru could put effort into and not feel the lack of motivation he’d carried for so many years effect him.
He’d be able to eat curses, train, and basically save humanity. He was now a necessary factor in society. Huh. The thought almost made him feel a little self-important, but he quickly shut that train of thinking down. There was no place for that here. (Or at least, Suguru had thought that before he’d met a certain someone).
The drive to the base of the mountain had been quiet. Suguru didn’t have much to say to the chauffeur who had picked him up. He didn’t see a need to say anything at all, content to look outside the window.
He was dressed in a white t shirt, baggy around his waist, and huge puffed out black pants that his mother called an atrocity, when he stepped out of the car. He looked up at the stairs that led to the school. Poking out of the treetops, he could vaguely see the tips of tall traditional buildings. Towering things that looked straight out of Kyoto tour guide pamphlets. They were almost pretentious.
Suguru’s suitcase was light as he tugged it up the path to the base of the long stone stairway. It seemed like the climb up would be tedious, but since he hadn’t packed much of anything, it would be fine. He was never one to carry heavy burdens on purpose. Besides, the rest of the things his mother inisted he pack had been sent to the school already. She was always so attentive to these sort of things. (It made him wonder how much of his demeanour she’d noticed had changed over the years, and if she had just not bothered to say anything at all about it on purpose).
Despite this, his shoulders feel heavy as he waits for the car to drive away behind him, speeding back down the mountain from whence it came.
Here it was, the first step Suguru would take into becoming a sorcerer, into doing what he supposedly was meant to do for the rest of his life.
What a joy. It was a good thing he hadn’t packed his cigarettes, and he’d managed to get his hair to look somewhat presentable, loose over his shoulder. He wanted to at least act 100% put together before meeting his classmates.
--
The second Suguru made it up the mountain, he wanted to collapse on the ground. Okay, the walk up hadn’t been the worst, but dragging his suitcase up that way- partially carrying it for the most part- had been difficult and annoying.
His irritation was only softened by the fact that he was immediately able to find his dorm. Apparently, he’d been the only student to arrive today, the other two in his year weren’t going to be arriving until the first day of school. It was two days before then. He’d never been an overachiever, god no, but it sort of felt like he was in that moment.
When he sat down on the floor of his room, Suguru let out a sigh. He wanted a cigarette. He didn’t have one.
Suguru unpacked his things rather slowly. He’d rather not settle in too quickly. For some reason, it felt as though he would fall into everything a little too fast if he didn’t slow himself down now. Why did that feeling translate to lazily unpacking his boxes? Suguru couldn’t tell you.
He ended up calling his mom. Or, well, she called him, and he wasn’t against talking to her. Calling his parents would be something else he’d have to get used to. He would eventually find he missed their voices more often than not.
By the time evening arrives, Suguru had unpacked everything, and plastered posters on his wall. Band posters, specifically. What else would he put up? There, on the wall, he had put up album covers. There was the Cure’s Three Imaginary Boys, Korn’s Requiem, and Hole’s Live Through This. Did sorcerers listen to music by non-sorcerers often? He wondered if his classmates would have any clue what the bands were. Not because he thought they were like, unknown bands or anything. Fuck, no. Just cause he wasn’t sure what their culture was like in sorcerer families. Honestly, they seemed to be stuck in the Edo or Heian eras.
The sunset’s gentle beams coat Suguru’s room with orange light, and he looks out the window from where he’s laying on the floor, arms stretched out beside him. His thoughts are slow as he observes the end of the day.
--
Suguru decided later that day that his classmates were probably the oddest people he’d ever met. Which was saying something, cause up until recently, he himself had been the oddest person he knew, and no one had even gotten close to beating him out.
On the first day, Suguru had gotten up just a little too late to worry about whether or not he should eat breakfast (the answer was no), or if his hair would look better up or down. Frantically, he threw on his uniform, brushed his shoulder length hair out, applied the smallest amount of eye makeup (he didn’t have time to do a good wing, damnit), before heading out of his dorm and practically sprinting down the hallway.
Only a couple seconds before class was supposed to start, he calmly opened the sliding door into the class.
Sitting in one of the three desks (and wasn’t it odd that there were only three desks,) was a boy.
Suguru’s brain malfunctioned for approximately seven seconds before he took a breath and sighed. It seemed he wasn’t the only one late, and there was no teacher in sight anyways. What did he do all this worrying for? The only one in the room was this weirdo.
He didn’t mean to use the word weirdo to imply that this guy was any weirder than the other sorcerers that Suguru had met... just that he was, well, weird.
The boy had startlingly white hair, for one, was wearing sunglasses that did a very poor job had hiding his big blue eyes, and his feet were kicked up on the desk, arms crossed like some delinquent in an anime. Except, this kid looked like anything but a delinquent, with that nearly shaved hair. Seriously, the boy had like, hair that made him look like a fluffy baby chicken or something. (That was the only metaphor Suguru could make up. Or comparison. Was it really a metaphor?)
“What are you staring at, bangs?” The boy said, looking right at Suguru.
It took an embarrassingly long time for Suguru realise that the kid was referring to him. And his apparent bangs. Which, really, could barely count as bangs. Maybe he had curtain bangs, sort of, and he had a strand of hair that was a bit shorter than the strand on the other (he wasn’t the best at cutting it quite yet).
“Nothing,” he said, in response, already feeling a bit of irritation swelling up. God, he did not want to end up hating his first classmate, but that greeting grated on his nerves. He wanted to feel offended, but there really wasn’t anything to be offended by.
Suguru moved into the classroom, taking a seat at the desk on the opposite side of the boy. Which meant that their third classmate would have to sit in-between them. Hopefully whoever they were, they could tolerate both of them.
“You know, you smell like curses,” the boy said to Suguru, moving so his feet were no longer resting on top of his desk, but rather on the desk in between them. “Do you wash yourself in curse blood or something?” he tilted his head, his glasses slipping down his nose to reveal more of his stupid eyes. His voice was very much not ignorant- rather, he was trying to get a rise out of Suguru.
He could tell, trust him.
First off, though, smell? Why was this guy smelling him? How could he do that?
Suguru resisted the urge to grimace and summon a curse to rip this kid to shreds. Polite. He had to be polite. At least for the first week. Then he’d strangle this guy. He couldn’t get expelled in his first week. The second would be fine. “No.” he replied, curt. He rested his elbows on his desk, keeping his head facing the blackboard. God, why did this have to be the first thing he dealt with in the morning?
“Sure,” the guy replied, still facing Suguru. “Anyways, what’s your name? I obviously don’t have to introduce myself, I’m sure you know who I am already,” he said.
Suguru would be angrier at the assumption if the guy had sounded more smug about it, but it had sounded like he was just being genuine. Was this kid supposed to be famous? His look sure was distinct.
“Suguru Geto,” he said after a moment, only moving his head slightly to look in the general direction of the guy. “And, no, actually, I’m not aware of who you are,”
The boy’s eyes widened, which was only a little unnerving. God, they were so blue. How could anyone’s eyes be that blue? Suguru wasn’t over it yet. (Though he had no place to judge, having purple eyes himself. He got stares all the time).
“Geto, huh? I dunno if I like that name,” the guy said, completely ignoring the fact that he hadn’t introduced himself yet.
Suguru was going to murder this guy.
“That’s unfortunate,” Suguru deadpanned.
“I’ll have to call you Suguru then,” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together once. “Yeah!”
Someone get Suguru out of here. Where the hell was the other student?
“Don’t,” Suguru sighed, running one hand through his hair. This day really couldn’t get worse. There was no possible way. Was he really stuck with this guy for three years? Maybe he could get away with it being two.
“Aw, why not? You can call me Satoru. That’s who I am, by the way, Satoru Gojo,” the guy finally said.
Suguru guesses he’s supposed to have a visceral reaction to that name, but he doesn’t. Was he apart of the three clans or whatever that had been mentioned to him at some point? He was pretty sure the Gojo’s were a clan. Right? Whatever, he’d figure it out later.
“Gojo.” Suguru tested the name on his tongue. “Yeah, your name’s stupid too,” he shot back. To hell with being polite to Gojo. This wasn’t worth the patience it took. Not when he’d already woken up late.
Gojo just grinned at him, before getting up from his desk and sitting in the one next to Suguru.
Fuck.
Their faces were close to each other now, and Suguru could only keep staring at the blackboard for a little while longer.
Did Gojo know what personal space was? He was leaning forward, and he pushed the desk a little closer to Suguru’s. Apparently not, it seemed personal space was foreign concept to the boy who could pass for a foreigner if it weren’t for the shape of his eyes and the lithe of his build.
“What’s your cursed technique, Suguru?” Gojo asked, eyes bright behind his glasses. “Do you actually bathe in curses? Or do you just kill ‘em a lot? Are you strong?” He paused for only a moment. “If you’re strong, we should fight. I bet I’m stronger than you,”
That ticked Suguru off. No way this guy was asking rapid fire questions and then challenging him to a fight on the first day of school.
“I’d fight you,” Suguru said, turning his head to face Gojo fully. “If you want. But don’t be too upset when I destroy you,” he said, keeping his tone as calm as he could.
Gojo just grinned again. Stupid. “As if you could beat me. I’m the Six Eyes! And I’ve got a crazy technique, Limitless. There’s no one on earth that can beat that,” he boasted.
For some reason, it seemed almost true. But those words weren’t apart of Suguru’s vocabulary, so he wasn’t going to try to argue against it. They’d just have to wait and see, he supposed.
“Those words mean nothing to me,” Suguru said, flexing one of his hands and hearing the knuckle crack once. “My technique’s Cursed Manipulation. How long do you think you can last against hundreds of curses?” He asked.
Okay, so what if Suguru only had say, two hundred curses, and well.. He couldn’t control them all at the same time yet. It was still a good bluff.
“So you do bathe in curse blood!” Gojo exclaimed. “I knew it,” He pointed a finger at Suguru’s face that was a mere millimeter away from poking his nose.
“I do not,” Suguru shot back, moving his head back an inch so his eye didn’t get gauged out or something, “I eat them,”
Gojo’s face crumpled into an expression that could only be described as disbelief and disgust with a hint of morbid curiosity. “You do not,”
“I do,” Suguru said, still as calm as ever. When could he fight Gojo? He really wanted to strangle him still. He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms.
“No way,” Gojo said, indignation in his voice. “How would you even do that? Cook them in some sauce and eat them over a couple weeks? Curses, like, disappear when you kill them! Eating them isn’t possible unless they’re alive!” He sounded disproportionally upset about the whole concept. Which was, Suguru will admit, amusing.
Suguru snorted. “They don’t taste that bad,” A lie. They did. He didn’t mind it though. Not yet, at least.
“You’re a liar,” Gojo said, assured in his position. “There’s no way. I bet your technique is something lame. What would eating curses even do? Can you summon them if you eat them? Manifest them with your cursed energy, like cloning? You sound crazy!” He said.
Suguru almost laughed. Almost. Let no one know that this idiot had the ability to amuse him.
“C’mon, answer, I need to know,” Gojo said, insistent. He seemed as though he was close to whining about it. What a baby.
Before things could escalate, the door to the classroom opened again, and in stepped two figures.
Ah, it was Yaga-sensei, along with a brunette girl who looked far too tired for eight thirty in the morning. Suguru could relate.
“Sorry for the delay,” Yaga said, addressing the class as the girl sat down in the remaining desk, next to Gojo. “We’ll begin now,”
Suguru thanked every god in existence that his conversation with Gojo was over with.
He’d have to learn how to avoid him.