After a long day of missions and classes, the sun finally dipped below the horizon, casting a golden-orange hue over Jujutsu High. The air buzzed with excitement—tonight Shoko was taking everyone out for her birthday, and she had a very specific plan in mind for the celebration.
She'd been unusually mysterious about the destination, but one thing was clear: it was going to be 'epic'. She even went room to room, personally checking on everyone's outfit. Eventually, she barged into Sana's room without knocking.
"Okay, fashion emergency," Shoko announced dramatically, flopping onto Sana's bed. "You're not going like this on my birthday. Let's pick something hot. Not cute. 'Hot'."
Sana blinked at her. "But… I was thinking of wearing my blue sweater with the little stars on it—"
"No. Absolutely not. That sweater screams ''I'm here to tutor your child, not party with adults.'" Shoko began rummaging through Sana's wardrobe like it was her own. "Ah-ha! This dress. You're wearing this. Trust me."
Sana held it up, unsure. "I-I don't know… where are we going?"
"It's perfect," Shoko said, tossing it at her. "And tonight, we're going where 'too much' is just the beginning."
*************
Meanwhile, Satoru was doing something rare—checking himself in the mirror.
"Is it weird if I actually try tonight?" he asked, fixing the collar of his crisp white shirt. It fit him almost too well, the sleeves rolled slightly, revealing strong forearms. His silver hair, usually a chaotic mess, was gently tousled, like a breeze had shaped it just right. He wore simple black slacks that gave him an easy, graceful silhouette, and somehow, even without trying too hard, he looked stunning—like a daydream painted in moonlight.
Suguru, leaning against the doorframe, smirked softly. "Whom are you trying to impress?"
Satoru shot him a look but didn't deny it.
**********88*8********
Later, as everyone gathered in the courtyard:
"Shoko told us absolutely nothing," Satoru said with a grin, hands in his pockets, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Which means it's either going to be awesome… or terrifying."
Shoko descended the flight of stairs like she owned the moonlight. She looked fierce, confident, and far too pleased with her secrecy.
"Okay baddies, assemble," she declared. "But remember, we're not 'officially' allowed to leave campus after 10, so we need to go full-on ninja mode."
They ducked behind trees and walls like characters in a stealth mission game, waiting for Yaga-sensei to leave. Finally, he walked past the gate, lost in his paperwork.
"Now!" Shoko whispered, leading the charge into the night.
"But—" Sana started, clearly nervous.
"Shhh," Satoru said from beside her, leaning in slightly. His voice was soft, just for her. "It's more fun that way."
Sana's breath caught for a split second, just long enough for her to wonder why her heart skipped. The streetlight flickered over him, casting a faint golden shimmer across his hair.
Suguru added, "Don't worry. No one gets caught when I'm on the team."
"Look who's talking," Sana said, regaining her composure. "The one who preaches nonsense morals all day."
Everyone laughed—loud, breathless, and free.
---
The neon lights of Tokyo buzzed to life around them as they walked. Finally, they arrived. Sana looked up, eyes wide.
"Shoko?? Don't you think we must not be here?" she asked, pointing to the high-end izakaya.
"Why?" Shoko said innocently.
"This place looks like it's for grown-ups! Also, we won't be allowed to enter without age ID proof!"
Shoko gently patted her head. "You adorable lawful creature… you think I didn't plan this?"
"She has a friend who owns the place," Suguru explained.
"Yes, Sana-san, don't panic," Satoru grinned, nudging her arm lightly. "We're in good hands."
Inside, the staff greeted them like VIPs and led them to a private section already prepped and decorated.
"Oh my god… this place is amazing," Utahime said, a little breathless.
"Told you," Shoko said, flipping her hair.
They all sat, a mix of nervous energy and delight flowing between them. The table shimmered with dishes and drinks, glowing under the soft lights.
"I pre-ordered everything," Shoko explained. "I'm not letting any of you ruin this with your questionable taste."
Everyone raised a glass. "Happy birthday, Shoko!"
The first sips brought instant reactions.
"This tastes awful," Satoru blurted, making a face.
Utahime laughed. "Of course, it does! Kids like you can't handle it!"
"I'm not a kid!" Satoru argued, cheeks already turning pink. "I just don't like *this one*!"
"Try another, then," Utahime teased.
"Challenge accepted."
Meanwhile, Sana, already halfway through her second glass, blinked slowly. "I think… I'm going to sit very still."
Suguru chuckled softly. "Wise decision."
Then a spoon floated past someone's head. And a napkin.
"Gojo?" Shoko said, pointing.
"I'm a cloud," Satoru said dreamily as chopsticks began levitating. "Suguru, you're my winged horse."
With a long-suffering sigh that couldn't quite hide his amusement, Suguru summoned a cursed spirit to gently reset the table and hauled Satoru onto his back.
"Yes, yes, Pegasus. Let's get you home."
---
They returned well past midnight, tiptoeing like kids sneaking back from a midnight dare. Utahime went straight to her room. Others went towards the boys dorm where Satoru, Suguru and Sana had rooms. (Sana lives there near Satoru's room as ordered by the higher-ups for safety of other sorcerers)
As they reached the dorm entrance, Sana felt a light tug on her sleeve. She turned to see Satoru standing a little closer than necessary, his expression unusually gentle.
"You looked really nice tonight," he said, quietly. "Like… better than nice."
Sana's face warmed, her breath catching for the second time that night.
"Thanks," she murmured. "You too."
Their eyes met. Just for a second. Long enough to make it feel like something had changed, or maybe just begun.
And a few steps behind them, Shoko walked beside Suguru, her smile softer now.
"Thanks for not letting the Pegasus destroy my birthday," she said casually.
Suguru gave a slight shrug. "I'd do it again."
Shoko looked up at him, her expression unreadable in the moonlight—but the way she nudged his arm with hers was anything but casual.
---
It had been chaotic. It had been wild. And it had been perfect.
None of them would remember exactly how the night ended—but they'd all remember how it 'felt'.
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