Chapter Text
“This was the best weekend ever!” Yuji declares as the three of them climb to the top of the hill at Jujutsu High. “The hot springs were amazing, and I didn’t know that the beds could be this soft, and the food…”
Nobara huffs as she manages to fit yet another box of shoes into one of her bags that Yuji is carrying, then looks back at her own load in contemplation, likely considering what else could be transferred to Yuji. “Yes, if only we didn’t have to fight all those creepy curses while we were there,” she responds. “The twin girls were the worst!”
“The twin girls?” Yuji asks. “Do you mean the ones saying, ‘Come play with us, forever, forever, and ever’?” He makes wavy hand gestures to indicate the absolute level of spookiness. “They were just normal girls who wanted to play with us, weren’t they, Megumi?”
Megumi is slowly trailing behind them, looking at his phone with increasing annoyance. The phone had spent two nights in a bowl of rice ever since it somehow ended up in the hotel pool. Megumi had spent the entire trip home checking it again and again, grumbling something about his banking app and sixty levels of Candy Crush.
“Finally!” Megumi exclaims as his phone chimes. “I thought that water destroyed it for good.”
“Twin girls,” Yuji repeats. “Were they curses?”
“The twins?” Megumi shrugs, looking up from his phone, though his voice trails off as he starts checking his messages. “Was there something wrong with them? They were just like Tsumiki when we were... What the hell?!” he exclaims, staring at what seems to be a particularly offensive message.
“That’s why you were playing with them yesterday…” Yuji starts, though he's already too preoccupied with Megumi's messages to dwell on the fact that Tsumiki was apparently so weird as a child. Could it be a girl? A boyfriend? He was dying to know!
Both Nobara and Yuji lean in to look intently over Megumi’s shoulder. It’s not just one message – there are many, each one making Yuji's heart drop further with anxiety.
Two days ago
11:00: I need help!!!!
13:43: literally as in literally as in actually
13:43: I’m literally dying
Yesterday
12:31: Me gu mi??
21:03: Megumi??
Today
04:11: S O S
04:12: a GIF of a cat with crying eyes
04:12: where are u?
04:12: heeeeeeelp meee
04:48: I need help. This is urgent.
06:45: EMERGENCY
07:57: a GIF of a flashing red siren
The name at the top is the last thing they see.
“No way!” Yuji cries out, clutching his head with both hands. “Gojo-sensei?!”
Yuji almost jumps at Megumi, the gesture half-protective, half-trying to see what the rest of the messages say. “We need to help him!” he adds, gesturing wildly with his hands. The last message arrived just an hour ago, and it sounded urgent. “What if he’s been poisoned… or what if there’s a curse he couldn’t defeat?! We need to find him! And--”
Megumi straightens up and locks his phone, looking even more annoyed than usual.
“It could be something as simple as him running out of sugar,” he says flatly. “Or there was an attack strong enough to defeat him,” he drawls. “There’s never any way to tell with his messages.”
“But would you say such messages from him are rare?” Nobara asks, seemingly in contemplation.
Megumi shrugs. “Not really. But he did use the word literally…” he drawls, then scratches his head in a gesture of confusion, a look of slight worry crossing his face.
“I have an idea!” Nobara chimes in from behind them, looking at her own phone. She points at the number she is about to call. “Shoko always knows what’s going on and whether we need to run, save Gojo, or buy extra desserts.”
“I’m not buying him any desserts,” Megumi protests, just as she taps the green button and turns on the speakerphone for everyone to hear.
After no more than a couple of rings, something even more inexplicable happens.
“Good afternoon. You have reached the office of Jujutsu High’s health and well-being services,” a gentle voice beams from the speaker. “Our health professionals and nurses are available to assist you with any request. If you are calling to request assistance with your physical health, please press one. If you require mental health support, please press two. If you require--”
Yuji is dying to know what the third option is – and honestly wouldn’t mind calling back and pressing two himself – but Nobara drops the phone onto the grass at the mention of mental health services, a look of utter horror on her face.
“Did we walk into a parallel dimension?!” she blurts out, her voice rising in panic.
“Having mental health services sounds amazing, doesn't it?” Yuji chimes in, confused by the look of utter terror on Megumi’s and Nobara’s faces.
“I know, but this is Jujutsu High!” Nobara whispers frantically, already protectively hugging her own shoulders. “They hired Gojo as a teacher, for God’s sake!”
Megumi huffs as he picks up the phone, which is still listing the wide array of services they apparently offer. He gingerly taps the screen, listens for a second, and then immediately disconnects the call.
“What is it?” Yuji asks.
“They asked me how I was feeling…” Megumi whispers, wide-eyed.
“Isn’t that a normal thing to ask?”
“The last time I was feeling depressed, Principal Yaga told me to avoid staring at corpses for too long during missions,” Megumi explains.
“Right! And when Yuji died, Gojo told us he was going to kill all the higher-ups so we wouldn't worry too much!” Nobara adds.
“We must be inside a barrier of some sort!” Megumi decides. “Assuming this is an incomplete domain, a curse could have created a mirror image of the school…” he starts.
“And of course, it’d be aaall creepy-like,” Nobara agrees, readying her hammer. “We shouldn’t trust anything we see.”
“Or hear,” Megumi agrees, summoning his divine dogs.
“Could it be that they just hired a mental health professional?” Yuji asks, but he’s immediately interrupted.
“No,” Nobara shuts him down, dropping into a combat stance.
Megumi shakes his head. “This is either a parallel dimension or a domain expansion – there can be no other explanation.”
Yuji nods contemplatively and looks around. Come to think of it, there is something strange about the whole school today. There have always been swords stuck in the ground here and there, but now every single one of them features a cute little hat right on top. The dummies they use for sparring have been turned into what look like Halloween decorations, even though it’s only the middle of September. A notice about curses on one of the walls (“Check if you have any curses with you; if you do, fill out Form 3-07 and do not enter the school grounds.”) has a new addition in fine print: “Curses in the religious sense only.” Someone even patched up a large hole that had been there since their last training session, when Yuji accidentally ran headfirst into the wall.
Yuji's eyes land on a big, glossy poster that takes up most of the wall behind the training grounds.
“Guys,” he whispers first, but when neither Megumi nor Nobara hears him, he repeats it louder: “Look up!”
The poster features Inumaki and Panda smiling for the camera, holding two books that look like the domain expansion texts Gojo made them read on one of those days when he was too bored to teach class.
What's written on the poster, however, is somehow creepier than everything they've seen so far. “Jujutsu High – at least 85% of our students will graduate!” reads the headline. Another text, nestled in a speech bubble pointing to Panda, reads: “This is a normal school.”
“This must be some sort of curse-ridden barrier, right?” Yuji asks, scratching his head. A second later, they hear Inumaki's voice blare from the loudspeaker right next to them.
“Come to class.”
Yuji's legs immediately carry him in the direction of the classroom… This is bad, very bad, he thinks as he’s compelled to move forward.
**
The day before.
The news hit Satoru Gojo like a bucket of ice-cold water poured over his head. At first, be looked like a - blindfolded - deer caught in the headlights, before his expression relaxed into calculated ignorance, asking what, exactly, a "school certification" was.
“A-ha!” Gojo exclaimed when he finally managed to drag the upcoming inspection date out of Yaga.
“Too bad – that happens to be my official not-passing-a-school-certification day!” He grinned, already edging toward the door, having clearly decided the conversation was over.
“Impossible!” Yaga yelled just as Gojo yanked the door open. “They can close the school down if we don't pass!”
Gojo paused and looked back, not even his blindfold concealing the slight twitch of his brow.
“Is this the higher-ups' doing? Because you know I can kill them, right?”
“Everyone at this point knows you can kill the higher-ups. But remember, that kind of talk coming from our primary instructor is exactly why we're in danger of failing!”
Gojo plummeted into the chair across from Yaga with an annoyed huff. He thought for a second, pouting.
“Obviously, I'm the best teacher there is,” he started, pointing at himself with a wide grin. “But don't you usually hire someone to pretend to be me for a day when they come?” he asked hopefully.
“Not possible,” Yaga said, shaking his head. “An assistant screwed up and sent out your real profile to the school certification board. Inside, his heart was still screaming with horror that it had even happened. “Someone there was apparently not very happy to discover we’d sent a fake profile last time. And then, instead of your teaching credentials, someone sent them this.” Yaga picked up an innocent-looking piece of paper with two fingers and flipped it so Gojo could see.
It was a drawing of a penis, complete with testicles, and a helpfully written “penis” underneath.
“Oh, that's one of my finest works!” Gojo snickered. “What else could they possibly want from me?” he asked, innocent-eyed and batting his eyelashes.
“Actually, they were rather generous when I told them that an immature, dumb idiot student of mine…” Yaga paused, giving Gojo a pointed look, right as Gojo mumbled that the word “dumb” was unnecessary – if only because “idiot” already conveyed the meaning. “…stuck it in there instead of the proper paperwork. They said they'd be happy to overlook it if you actually start working on your teaching certification.”
“This again?” Gojo whined. “Since when do the strongest even need certificates, huh? Can you even hire a teacher who's better than me at Jujutsu?!”
“I have already looked!” Yaga snapped. “No one else wants to work for this salary--”
Yaga cut himself off, his voice trailing away as he caught a brief flicker of emotion cross Gojo’s face before it vanished completely.
“You…” Gojo asked, his voice suddenly quieter than usual, every trace of emotion instantly draining from his expression. “…looked for another teacher?”
“Just…” Yaga shrugged, attempting to brush it off. “To teach Jujutsu theory.”
“I know theory,” Gojo added, quieter still.
“Teaching about all the domain expansions you’ve ever seen for days straight doesn't count as theory,” Yaga protested.
Then, an idea popped into his head – if Gojo believed Jujutsu High actually had an alternative, he’d probably stop trying to purposefully sabotage any and all certification-related activities. And the school wouldn’t close. Competition breeds progress, and all that.
“Nanami would be so much better at teaching the basics, you know,” Yaga added, doing his best to sound thoughtful.
The next second, Gojo slouched down in his chair, sulking and mumbling something about “natural geniuses” and “unappreciated talent.”
“So if you draw even a single penis on any of the evaluation papers ever again, I’ll probably ask Nanami if he could--” Yaga looked up, only to realize his former student had already spaced out.
Gojo tapped his foot against the floor, the movement fast and impatient.
“Nanami would be a great teacher, actually,” Gojo said suddenly, looking thoughtful. “The kids would understand him… And he wouldn't want Jujutsu High to close down and leave all these kids without a formal education, would he?”
What was even going on? This was far from the reaction Yaga had expected. For a second, he contemplated whether to clear up the confusion. He wasn't looking for anyone else. Gojo was a godsend – though only about 15% of the time, and only when he wasn't bored, which was almost all the time. There was definitely no one else who could do the job better, considering the responsibilities included protecting the students in addition to teaching them, and a third of each class year was currently under execution orders.
But before Yaga could speak, Gojo started talking again, sounding as if he already had a plan.
“Too bad Nanami is away on a mission,” Gojo tapped his chin in contemplation. “And he threw a fit the last fifteen times I teleported him out…” The next second, he began flipping through the paperwork. “Well, this should be easy enough. I just need to fill out a few forms, right?”
Yaga shook his head.
“No. That means they’re coming to observe your teaching.”
Gojo didn't seem to care all that much, so Yaga repeated it, just to let the reality sink in.
“They'll send an actual evaluator – not the spy we have on the board. They were concerned that all our recent evaluations were done by the exact same person.”
Gojo's eyes started actually twitching this time.
“I think I can use my Domain Expansion for a tenth of a second so the evaluator's mind gets overloaded with information, and then there'll be a good review,” Gojo mused. “If only that were safe… Too bad we don't have anyone with memory manipulation skills, hmm? Or I could just threaten the evaluator into writing a glowing review, couldn't I?”
Yaga stood up, having reached the same deeply unhelpful conclusion that there wasn't a single, safe sorcery solution to their problem.
“I'm afraid we'll have to do this the right way this time.”
Gojo frowned, clearly secretly unconvinced anyone else would see him as the great teacher he claimed to be.
“At least our second-years are on school grounds – I'm sure they'll be a big help while you prepare,” Yaga offered, concluding the meeting. He’d prefer it if Gojo actually teleported Nanami back to handle it, but he wasn’t going to condone the kidnapping of Jujutsu sorcerers, and for some reason Gojo didn’t volunteer to do it himself. “I’ll send some assistants over as well, though I’m afraid we don’t have anyone on-site who actually attended a non-sorcerer school. The rest is up to you.”
**
“Can someone please just tell me what the hell is going on?!” Yuji cries out, sprinting toward the classroom on Inumaki’s orders.
They skid to a halt just as they reach the doorway, breathing hard.
Inside their usual classroom, there are more desks than normal – and Maki, Panda, and Toge already occupy half of them.
“Isn't this supposed to be our classroom?” Yuji whispers, but cuts himself off as Megumi takes two sharp steps back from the doorframe, staring wide-eyed at the scene inside.
“What is it?” Yuji starts, but his voice trails off.
There, standing at the head of the room, next to a podium (really, a podium?), is Satoru Gojo – wearing a tailored suit, clear-lens glasses, and pointing authoritatively at a chalkboard covered in something that looks like higher-level mathematics.
“Can you feel it too?” Megumi whispers from behind him. “It's Gojo's cursed energy, but why does he look like that? And what the hell is on that board?”
“Oh, perfect! There you are!” Gojo smiles and gestures for them to come in. “You're late for our geometry class.”
“Since when do we have geometry?!” Yuji exclaims, squinting suspiciously at the unfamiliar formulas scribbled across the blackboard.
“Since you finished Algebra 1. Don't you remember?” Gojo’s smile grows even more unnervingly generous.
“I didn't finish Algebra 1!” Yuji protests.
“What is Algebra 1?” Panda asks from behind his desk, looking even more confused than the three of them.
“Tuna,” Inumaki whispers urgently, waving his hands toward a spot behind him – where, come to think of it, an unfamiliar man in a suit and glasses is sitting.
Before they can react, an unseen force – Gojo’s spatial manipulation, Yuji realizes – drags the three of them straight into their respective desks.
“Oh, and I completely forgot to introduce you,” Gojo continues, his bright smile remaining firmly plastered on his face. “This is Mr. School Inspector. Mr. School Inspector – this is our class!”
**
“And that's how you generate fractals using the Koch snowflake!” Gojo concludes, having covered the entire blackboard in complex formulas during what can only be described as a fit of sheer mania.
He then glances up at the clock in the far corner of the room for what must be the fifth time in thirty minutes and lets out an audible sigh. There are still good thirty minutes left before the class ends.
“So…” Gojo looks back at them. Suddenly, Yuji notices that everyone in the room is doing literally anything except listening to the lecture.
Come to think of it, Yuji is the only one actually taking notes – something he started the second he decided this couldn't possibly be a curse or some sort of Domain Expansion. Even curses aren't that weird.
The problem is, following the lecture makes his head hurt. His eyes ache too, just from the strain of watching Gojo cover every single inch of the blackboard in formulas. It’s impossible to understand the guy on a good day, but today? Today, Yuji can't understand a single word coming out of Gojo's mouth.
In an uncharacteristic gesture, Gojo takes a deep breath in and out, fiddling with the chalk in his fingers.
“Any questions?”
He's met by looks of barely contained boredom. Panda is drawing something in Inumaki’s notebook while Inumaki tries – and fails – to stop him, barely holding back his own laughter. Nobara is tallying up her recent purchases, and Megumi is discreetly checking his phone. Maki is the worst offender of all: she’s simply cleaning her sword, completely unbothered by Mr. Inspector taking notes in the back while chancing occasional glances in her direction.
Yuji draws into himself, trying to make himself look as small as possible. He realizes with a sinking feeling that he's the only one who even attempted to follow along – not that it did him any good.
“What are fractals?” he finally asks in a small voice, after the silence stretched on for at least two uncomfortable minutes.
Gojo’s face brightens. “That's actually a great question! You see, there's some debate among mathematicians about the exact defining difference between fractals and other geometric shapes, but…”
Yuji carefully maneuvers to nudge Megumi with his elbow. He cannot be on the hook for the next question. He was terrible at math back in his old school, and whatever Gojo is teaching right now is light-years too advanced for him.
“What?” Megumi hisses under his breath.
“Ask a question!” Yuji whispers back frantically, right as Gojo wraps up his explanation by writing yet another elaborate formula on the blackboard. Just to be safe, Yuji jabs Megumi with his elbow again.
“You ask questions,” Megumi mumbles, elbowing him right back. After a brief pause, he slyly kicks Yuji under the desk, clearly enjoying himself.
Yuji is just about to kick him back when Gojo stops writing and turns around. Megumi instantly straightens up, looking like the picture of a model student. Yuji huffs – that won't do at all. But just as he reloads his elbow for another strike on Megumi, Maki stops cleaning her sword and asks a question.
“This clearly isn't on the standard curriculum,” she says, casually checking her reflection in the blade.
“Of course it's not!” Gojo exclaims, far more enthusiastically than anyone should ever be about fractals. “This is university-level material! I saw half of these formulas in an Advanced Fractals class at the University of Tokyo. But these two right here are even more advanced, I came up with them myself,” he declares proudly, tapping a chalk-covered finger against the two massive equations on the board.
Yuji begins massaging his temples. No wonder it sounded like a completely foreign language. The realization seems to click for everyone else too, and Panda is the first to voice his outrage.
“I haven't studied any math – ever – and you start with this?!” he cries out, sounding genuinely offended. “Is this anti-Panda discrimination?!”
“More like anti-sorcerer discrimination,” Maki supplies from her seat. “We didn't have any formal schooling before enrolling in Jujutsu High. Not that I'm complaining.”
“Me too!” Gojo smiles brightly. “I never set foot in a real school until I enrolled at Jujutsu High – not even once!”
He appears right next to Maki and Panda to give them both high fives. To Yuji's complete surprise, even Toge joins in on the high five, as if never attending school until the ripe age of fifteen is a major cause for celebration.
“So that means we get to study whatever we want!” Gojo continues, reappearing beside the blackboard so fast he might as well have teleported. “We get to study the fun stuff – like fractals or quantum physics, you know?”
He swings his arms toward the array of equations, proudly singling out two of them as his personal favorites.
Yuji's head spins even more. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Mr. Inspector writing with such intensity that he has to flip the pages of his notebook every few seconds. His bright red pen flies frantically back and forth across the paper.
“Theoretically... what happens if Mr. Inspector gives Gojo-sensei a bad evaluation?” Yuji whispers, watching Gojo, who seems far too enamored with fractals to pay them any mind.
“Mustard leaf,” Inumaki says, frowning deeply.
“They'll shut down the school,” Panda whispers back, making Yuji's heart drop straight into his stomach. “And they don't even know sorcerers exist.”
This can't be good, Yuji thinks. His gramps explicitly told him he needed to graduate high school, and Jujutsu High better hand over a valid diploma when this is all over – a bad evaluation be damned!
His thoughts are interrupted by Maki, who finally sheathes her sword with a soft clack and straightens up in her seat.
“What's the point of us learning fractals anyway? Is there anything in this lecture we can actually use while fighting curses?” she asks bluntly.
“Tuna!” Toge protests in a frantic whisper, gesturing wildly in the direction of Mr. Inspector.
Gojo, however, practically beams at her question.
“You said they don't know about sorcerers?” Yuji whispers to Panda.
“Not about curses, either,” Panda nods grimly. “And I'm pretty sure Gojo has to pretend curses don’t exist, or else he'll get--”
“And that's an even better question! You are, after all, a student of the great Satoru Gojo!” Gojo exclaims, practically dancing with excitement.
“You see,” he begins, leaning over his podium, “veils, Domain Expansions, and incantations often start with hand signs. Those hand signs form the initial structure you're trying to create, but the structure itself--” He drums his fingers rapidly in the air. “--consists of...?”
He looks at them expectantly.
“...Fractals?” Panda supplies, scratching his plush head in total confusion.
“Exactly, Panda! One hundred points!” Gojo responds ecstatically, swinging his arms wide as he launches into an even more detailed explanation of the connection between fractals and high-level sorcery.
It takes him another five minutes to explain it – not that Yuji can follow a single word – and Yuji is left even more bewildered when Gojo finishes by doodling a curse trapped inside a giant net on the blackboard.
“And that's how you use fractals to weave nets out of standard barriers!” Gojo chirps cheerfully. “Or build selective barriers that filter out specific energy signatures – like during our beloved Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event! Or even use cursed energy to construct physical objects out of thin air, though you'd need a specialized cursed technique for that, like...”
“I'm soooo confused,” Yuji complains under his breath to Megumi, who has finally started listening with a bit more focus. “Is that true about the school inspection? Can we even talk about all this sorcery stuff so openly?”
Megumi shrugs. “Beats me,” he replies.
Just then, Nobara of all people raises her hand.
“Say someone sold me something that looked super legit, but turned out to be a total fake,” she begins. Gojo nods encouragingly, giving her his full attention. “Can I use this fractal thingy to recreate their credit card, rack up a massive debt under their name, and buy myself the original item they were supposed to sell me in the first place?”
“You can't say that out loud!!” Yuji cries out, completely forgetting to keep his voice down. Nobara clearly doesn't realize that the fate of the entire school rests on them not screwing this up any more than it already is. But before Yuji can even begin to explain what's at stake, Gojo chimes in.
“That is a fantastic revenge plan,” Gojo declares proudly. “Honestly, I'd also call their bank and take out an extra loan in their name while you're at it.”
“He can't say that to a student, right?!” Yuji frantically whispers to Megumi, his panic reaching an all-time high.
“Now, the real problem with this plan is…” Gojo continues.
The panicky feeling in Yuji's chest slowly begins to recede as a glimmer of hope takes hold. Surely Gojo is finally going to explain the sheer illegality of the idea – not that it should even need to be explained.
Only for Gojo to beam brightly and launch into an even faster, more hyperactive pace:
“Like I said, you'd need a specialized cursed technique to create physical objects out of thin air! That only works for sorcerers with the Construction technique. But even if you did have that technique – and very few people actually do – why would you copy his credit card...?”
Yuji perks up. Maybe now Gojo will finally say it's illegal.
“...When you could easily copy all of their legal documents, too, and incriminate them in every other way imaginable?!”
Gojo is clearly about to lay out his foolproof plan for a perfect crime utilizing the Construction technique, but right then, the bell rings.
Yuji steals a cautious glance toward the back of the room. The inspector snaps his notebook shut with a loud thud and stands up.
“That's... not a good sign, is it?” Yuji asks, swallowing hard.
He secretly holds out hope that the inspector somehow failed to notice anything amiss. But that tiny shred of hope vanishes into thin air the moment the man bolts out of the classroom – fast as a bullet and pale as morning snow.
Just as the door slams shut behind the man, Megumi stands up and crosses his arms.
“Is that true about the school shutting down?” he asks Gojo, who has already started wiping down the blackboard, whistling nonchalantly to himself. “That they're going to shut us down if you fail this inspection?”
Gojo stops, glancing back over his shoulder with the rag still raised in midair.
“Oh, Megumi, you really do care about your teacher!” he begins, a wide grin spreading across his face.
“Is it true or not?” Megumi insists.
Gojo tosses the rag onto his desk, having barely erased a fraction of the board.
“Yeah, something like that,” Gojo shrugs. “What – are you worried about little old me?”
Megumi sighs deeply, muttering something under his breath.
“Alright, fine. We'll help,” he decides.
“Exactly!” Yuji jumps up excitedly. “We have to help! Gojo-sensei has done so much for--”
“Because you'll be ten times more annoying if you're unemployed!” Megumi interrupts, pointing a finger directly at Gojo.
Yuji is about to protest, since well, Gojo sensei also was someone who saved their lives countless times and a great guy overall, but Gojo responds first.
“That's the spirit, 'Gumi!” Gojo exclaims, immediately shifting into a surprisingly businesslike posture. “Now, I need you guys to prepare my history lesson. My plan was just to read this Wikipedia article out loud...”
He frowns, squinting down at his notes.
“Ohhh, so that's why they call it the Second World War...” he trails off, before shaking his head. “Anyway! You kids prepare my history class – a presentation, a play, anything really. Meanwhile, I'll go check if anyone on staff can develop memory-altering skills within the next thirty minutes!”
With a bright grin and a cheerful wave, he teleports straight out of the classroom, leaving them with a reminder that there are only thirty minutes left before the next class starts.
**
“Wikipedia article it is,” Maki says, turning to leave the classroom.
“Salmon roe!” Inumaki protests, while Panda reaches out to grab her shoulder – only for Maki to dodge him effortlessly.
“What? Don't tell me you actually care about this stupid inspection,” Maki scoffs.
Yuji opens his mouth to explain that it would be pretty terrible if their school got shut down – where else is he supposed to learn jujutsu? – but Panda cuts in first.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to sew with paws?!” Panda exclaims, holding up his huge, cotton-filled hands. “I spent all day yesterday making the hats! Inumaki made the poster! And you couldn't even do something as simple as not brandishing your sword in front of the inspector!”
“I mean, yeah! I told you that blindfolded idiot was a hopeless case, didn't I?!” Maki insists.
“Well, yeah, because you brought your sword – after we spent all day hiding everyone's weapons around the grounds!” Panda snaps back.
“Because the idiot is unsalvageable!” Maki retorts, throwing her hands up. “He didn't even google what normal teachers teach in normal schools! There is zero chance in hell he was ever going to pass an evaluation! And my sword needed cleaning.”
A full-blown argument ensues - a shouting match about swords wearing prop hats, fractal geometry, and how hanging a giant poster that reads ‘JUJUTSU HIGH IS A NORMAL SCHOOL’ actually makes them look significantly less normal - leaving Yuji without a single opening to intervene.
Nobara, of all people, however manages to put a stop to it.
“Listen up! You guys are either going to help us with this history class, or I am going to beat the hell out of all of you myself!” she shouts, holding her hammer high.
Before anyone can even open their mouth to protest, she presses on.
“I refuse to be associated with a school that gets shut down! Imagine if I have to move back home and everyone's like, 'Oh, poor thing, she went all the way to Tokyo and her school closed right away, what a tragedy.' NO! That cannot happen to me!” she groans, clutching her head in sheer horror.
“So,” Nobara decides, taking full command of the situation. “Inumaki, Panda, and Maki – you guys put together one presentation. Megumi and I will handle another.”
“And what do I do?” Yuji asks, feeling strange to be actively volunteering for homework of all things.
“Your job is the most important,” Nobara says sternly. “You need to come up with smart, intelligent-sounding questions to ask after the presentations.”
“But...” Yuji hesitates, scratching his cheek. He isn't exactly built for academic questions – or studying in general.
“Not for you, obviously! It's for that blindfolded idiot,” Nobara snaps. “And yes – if Gojo even attempts to ask a question that's not in the script, you shove him, hit him, or do whatever it takes, really.”
“But he has his Infinity active! I can't just simply--”
“Doesn't matter,” she cuts in. “You babysit him, and the rest of us will put these presentations together.”
**
Surprisingly enough, their plan is actually working, Yuji decides. He reads aloud off the index card Megumi and Nobara prepared for him, using a laser pointer to point at different photos hanging around the classroom – courtesy of Inumaki, who somehow managed to get Jujutsu High’s ancient printer to work.
Gojo fiddles with his glasses and glances down at his notes, the exact ones Megumi and Yuji prepared for him. He spent the entire presentation nodding along and appearing deeply engaged, all while scribbling something on his paper.
Now comes the moment for Gojo to ask his questions. Yuji takes a deep breath, worried out of his mind that Gojo will be too bored to read the script or worse, that he'll decide to...
“So, would you say that uncontrolled lending by banks was the main driver behind the Great Depression, or were the underlying causes deeper than that?” Gojo asks intelligently.
Yuji lets out a long sigh of relief. It's word-for-word the exact question from the list he found online – the one he, Megumi, and Nobara spent some of their precious thirty minutes adapting for the lesson.
“Not necessarily, although it was certainly one of the contributing factors...” Megumi begins smoothly.
Yuji steals a quick glance at the clock. They are almost out of time, and he has a good feeling this class is actually going to score a solid evaluation.
A small smile touches his lips as he looks around the room. There’s Megumi, confidently answering the question after putting together such an impressive presentation on short notice. There’s Panda, secretly stitching together yet another mini prop hat under his desk – having admitted earlier that he just genuinely enjoys sewing them. There’s Maki, completely unarmed for once, a rare sight in itself. And there’s Inumaki, following along intently and taking notes as if this presentation were a genuine learning opportunity rather than something they threw together in half an hour.
It’s really nice, Yuji decides.
Just then, the ceiling explodes downward with a deafening CRASH. A blinding flash of light shoots from above, striking the inspector dead-center and knocking him completely unconscious before his chair even hits the floor.