I've been waiting to make this chapter for a long while.
Without any further to do, enjoy!
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(Third Person POV)
Soubu High's campus was a riot of color, sound, and smell.
The school festival was in full swing, with students bustling between stalls selling everything from takoyaki to handcrafted keychains.
The air was thick with the sizzle of grills, the chatter of hundreds of visitors, and an undeniable, buoyant energy.
It was a picture of vibrant teenage life.
But many eyes kept drifting to an anomaly in the crowd.
A tall, strikingly handsome man with white hair stood near the courtyard entrance, his presence a silent beacon.
He wore sleek black sunglasses, but even they couldn't hide the sharp, captivating line of his jaw or the confident stillness he exuded.
He was simply watching, a faint, unreadable smile on his lips as he took in the scene.
He was…
"Wow, so this is a real school festival! This looks amazing, don't you think, Nanami?" Gojo Satoru chirped, hands shoved in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels.
Standing stiffly beside him, Nanami Kento adjusted his tie with a sigh of profound resignation. "I still can't believe you dragged me into this."
"Hey, hey, I told you I'd pay for everything you want to eat," Gojo said, his tone breezy. "Besides, it seems my hunch was right. Can you feel it?"
Nanami's professional demeanour snapped into place. He turned his gaze toward the main school building, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses. "You mean what I can't feel? Of course I can."
That was the red flag.
At such close proximity, the two powerful sorcerers could sense it clearly: the school building, while teeming with the low-level Cursed Energy that naturally emanated from every human, was completely devoid of any actual Cursed Spirits or lingering negative residues.
A place this size, with the daily emotional turmoil of hundreds of students, should have been a breeding ground for low-grade curses.
It should have felt... dirty. Instead, it felt scrubbed clean.
Empty
In the jujutsu world, such unnatural cleanliness was more alarming than a nest of curses.
"What do you plan to do now, Goj—?" Nanami turned and found himself talking to empty air. Gojo was already several feet away, admiring a stall displaying elaborate candy apples, surrounded by a group of giggling schoolgirls who were openly admiring him.
"Hey, Nanami! Want one?" Gojo called out, holding up a glittering candy apple.
"Ugh," Nanami groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.
He should have known. Investigating was merely the excuse; indulging Gojo's whims was the reality.
"Why so down? Here, I brought you something" Gojo reappeared as if by magic, thrusting a simple candy cane into Nanami's hand.
Their attention was suddenly caught by a voice that cut through the festive noise with an unusual intensity. "Step up, don't be shy!" A man who looked like he'd just walked off the set of a yakuza film was standing beside a food truck, which was being manned by another man with an equally intimidating aura. "One hit of our stuff, and you'll never go back."
Nanami stopped, observing how the crowd gave the truck a wide, cautious berth.
Gojo, of course, had no such reservations. "Oh, look! They're selling bubble tea! Let's go taste it." He strode over to the stand with his characteristic fearlessness. "Two bubble teas, please!"
"We'll hook you up..." said the blonde yakuza inside the truck, his voice a low rumble.
"...With extra tapioca pearls, too" Finished the one outside, pointing at the menu
"Cool," Gojo said, utterly unfazed.
As they were served the drinks, Nanami reluctantly approached.
Gojo handed him one of the cups while he immediately took a loud enthusiastic slurp from his own.
"Hey, this is pretty good!" Gojo exclaimed, genuinely surprised.
His open enjoyment acted as a social cue.
Seeing the incredibly handsome, confident man happily drinking the bubble tea served by the yakuza looking guys, a couple of brave girls stepped forward. "Excuse me, can we get two premium banana crepes, please?"
"Suuuure thing~ Two banana crepes," the blonde man said, his intimidating presence belying his skilled, almost delicate movements as he expertly spread the batter. The crepes that emerged were works of art, perfectly golden and filled with fresh banana, whipped cream, and decorated with Pocky sticks.
The girls tried them, their eyes widening. "This is pretty good!"
"Yeah, it's tasty!"
Almost instantly, a line began to form at the once-avoided food truck.
Even Nanami, skeptical as he was, took a tentative sip of his bubble tea.
His eyebrows rose slightly. "Huh. This is actually good." For a brief, peaceful moment, he allowed himself to think that maybe this outing wouldn't be a complete disaster.
"Look, Nanami! They're selling takoyaki over there! Let's go check it out!" Gojo announced, already pulling him toward the next stall.
Nanami sighed, the moment of peace shattered. 'He spoke too soon. I am, after all, with Gojo Satoru'
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A palpable hush fell over one of the bustling school hallways.
The crowd of students and visitors instinctively parted, their whispers dying as two figures walked through with an air of unshakable authority.
Leading the way was a girl of breathtaking beauty.
Her long, snow-white hair was styled in two large, knotted rings, entwined with delicate ribbons, with squared bangs and cheek-length locks framing her face. Her eyes were a piercing blue, matching the striking blue lipstick on her lips.
She wore a school uniform that had a distinctive red blazer with black trim and gold buttons, completed with a black tie.
Every step she took was measured, confident, and commanded attention.
Following a pace behind was a girl with a similar stature and the same long white hair, worn down. Her face, however, was completely obscured by a white, theatrical comedy mask, giving her an eerie, silent presence.
"President, what are we doing here?" Asked the masked girl, her voice muffled and distorted by the porcelain.
Momobami Kirari didn't break her stride, her enchanting soprano voice cutting through the silence around them. "Well, my dear Vice-President, since the Momobami family is sponsoring this festival, I thought it appropriate to ensure my investment is being utilized effectively." She glanced back at her sister, a knowing glint in her blue eyes. "Besides, you should already know my other purpose for coming here."
Momobami Ririka nodded silently beneath her mask. She understood all too well.
Ever since her sister's fateful encounter with that man, Yoshioka Akira, her attention had become singularly focused on him.
It had evolved past mere curiosity into a deep, unsettling obsession.
Kirari had hired a small army of private investigators, compiling exhaustive dossiers on every aspect of his life: his family history, his residences, his teaching schedule, his food preferences, even the specific brand of tea he bought at the grocery store.
And there were the pictures. Hundreds of them. Candid shots of him walking to school, going to the grocery store, taking out the trash.
Kirari carried a selection of them everywhere, and Ririka knew for a fact that some of these photos were used for... private, intimate activities.
As her sister's double and confidante, Ririka had been forced to internalize every detail, to learn the patterns of this man's life so she could perfectly mimic the role of a lovesick girl if the situation ever demanded it.
And now, they were here. Solely for him.
Little did they know...
They weren't the only ones looking for that man
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Back to the courtyard, two other girls navigated the crowd.
"Ai-chan, look! A crepes food truck! They look delicious, but... the guys running it look really scary," said one, a bubbly girl known to her friend as 'Volley-bu-chan'.
"Yeah," replied Ai-chan, her voice distant. Her eyes weren't on the food; they were scanning the faces in the crowd, searching.
Volley-bu-chan noticed her friend's preoccupation. They'd thought they'd found him earlier, a tall, handsome white-haired man, but he was too flamboyant, too loud, and his eyes were blue
Completely different from the serene powerful red eyed presence Ai had described "I don't see your mystery man anywhere, Ai-chan."
"Yeah, I know," Ai sighed, her shoulders slumping in resignation
Seeing her friend's dejection, Volley-bu-chan looped her arm through Ai's. "Hey, why don't we check inside the school? He might be in one of the classroom events!"
A spark of hope reignited in Ai's eyes. "Sure, let's go check!" she said, a giggle escaping her lips as she led the way, her movements causing her ginormous bust to bounce noticeably beneath her blouse and bra, drawing stares from several boys nearby.
Volley-bu-chan spotted the approaching boys and sighed wearily. "Aw shit, here we go again"
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Meanwhile, the man in question was embroiled in a conundrum of his own.
"Please, Sensei!"
"It would really help our cafe!"
"You'd look so good in it!"
"Think of the clients it would attract!"
Yoshioka Akira stood impassively as a group of his female students surrounded him, their pleas echoing in the makeshift preparation room for his class' café.
The class had decided that the waiter, who were all boys, put on a butler costume to serve the clients.
The plan, he was certain, had been to see the popular Hayama Hayato in a tuxedo from the start.
But now, one of the boys had fallen mysteriously ill, and they saw a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
They wanted their sensei to step in.
He knew their story about having a spare outfit 'just his size' was a transparent lie. The entire scheme had been premeditated.
A deep, internal sigh passed through him. The chorus of "Please, Sensei!" continued.
"Alright" He said, his flat voice cutting through the chatter. "But only this time. And only for today. Are we clear?"
A unified cheer erupted from the girls. "YES! Thank you, Sensei!"
They thrust the neatly pressed butler outfit into his hands. "Put it on, quick!"
Taking the clothes, Akira turned and walked toward the temporary changing area.
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Hiratsuka Shizuka walked the bustling hallways of Soubu High with a profound sense of satisfaction.
The air was electric with laughter, the clatter of activities, and the smell of various foods.
This was her hard work, two weeks of frantic planning, budgeting, and coordinating, manifested in the joyous faces of her students.
It was all worth it.
Beside her, the newly elected student council president, Shiromeguri Meguri, clutched a clipboard, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and responsibility as they inspected each stall and classroom event. "The turnout is incredible, Hiratsuka-sensei," she murmured.
"Told you we could pull it off," Shizuka replied with a grin.
On her other side walked a new unexpected addition
Yukinoshita Haruno walking beside the teacher-student pair, her strides were a picture of effortless elegance. "Well, Shizuka, it looks like you outdid yourself," Haruno commented, her voice a smooth, pleasant melody "The school festivals when I was student council president were never this large or impressive."
"Yeah, well," Shizuka said, crossing her arms "We had a lot of help from our sponsors this year. It made all the difference."
"I bet," Haruno replied, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Imagine my surprise when I heard the Momobami family decided to sponsor Soubu's humble school festival."
Of course, the Yukinoshita family had taken immediate notice.
Such a move from a financial powerhouse like the Momobami clan was never without motive, and they had quickly connected it to the enigmatic new teacher, Yoshioka Akira.
Haruno's instructions from her mother had been clear: get close to him, assess his influence in both the legitimate and underground worlds, and if possible, secure a romantic connection.
As the firstborn, duty called, however distasteful she found the situation.
Though, she had to admit, given the man's striking appearance, the duty was far from a chore.
"Speaking of interesting developments" Haruno began, seamlessly steering the conversation as they turned a corner. "Where is your handsome colleague? I was hoping to say hello, but I haven't seen him anywhere."
Shizuka pointed down the hallway. "He should be at his class's cafe. It's our next stop anyway. You're in luck."
As they approached the designated classroom, however, they found their path blocked by a murmuring, blushing throng of young girls.
The air was thick with giggly squeals.
Shizuka's brow furrowed. "What's going on h—?"
Her words died in her throat.
There, standing at the entrance to the classroom, was the cause of the commotion.
Dressed in an impeccably tailored butler outfit that accentuated his tall, powerful frame was Yoshioka Akira. White gloves covered his hands, and he carried himself with an unnerving grace that transformed the silly costume into a symbol of supreme elegance.
He was slightly bowing to a pair of starry-eyed first-year girls holding his hands to this chest in reverence
"Come on in, my beautiful mistresses" He said, his voice lowered into a velvety, formal baritone that seemed to vibrate right through his captivated audience. "And do enjoy your stay."
The two girls could only nod dumbly, floating into the cafe on a cloud of bliss.
Shizuka stared, her brain struggling to reconcile the serene, often impassive man she knew with the devastatingly charming figure before her. "Yoshioka... what in the world is going on here?"
Akira turned, and a gentle, practiced smirk graced his lips, instantly disarming her. "Ah, Hiratsuka Mistress! So good to see you." He gave a slight, perfect bow "One of my esteemed students was unexpectedly unavailable, and they requested my assistance. Would you care to come in, Mistress? I assure you, you will be utterly... satisfied~"
The inflection on the last word, coupled with the intense focus of his crimson eyes, even slightly shadowed by his glasses, was a lethal combination.
A blush of nuclear intensity exploded across Shizuka's face. She felt like a boiling kettle, steam practically whistling from her ears.
The younger girls in the hallway, less equipped to handle such a direct assault, fared worse.
Nosebleeds dotted the crowd, and a couple slumped against the wall in a dead faint.
Beside her, Shiromeguri let out a tiny squeak, covering her own bleeding nose with her clipboard and turning away in embarrassment.
Yukinoshita Haruno felt a similar heat rise to her own cheeks. A single, decisive thought crystalized in her mind: 'I'm sorry, Shizuka. All's fair in love, war, and family duty. I'm claiming this one. I'll find you a nice guy to make it up to you... or maybe just buy you that sports car you're always eyeing'
Inside, as he observed the chaotic, flustered reaction his performance had elicited, Yoshioka Akira allowed himself a sliver of inward amusement.
'This,' he thought, the ghost of a memory from a faraway world and a different life flickering in his mind 'Brings back memories.'
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The sleek, black limousine moved with a silent, predatory grace, a stark contrast to the vibrant, chaotic energy of Soubu High's school festival.
It came to a smooth stop just beyond the bustling entrance, its tinted windows hiding its occupants from the world.
The rear door opened, and Hayasaka Ai stepped out.
Dressed in a tastefully simple but undoubtedly expensive outfit, her blonde hair tied in a neat side ponytail, she scanned the surroundings with calm, analytical blue eyes.
She then turned and held the door open.
A moment later, Shinomiya Kaguya emerged.
Her pitch-black hair fell straight and perfect around her shoulders, framing a face of porcelain composure.
Her crimson eyes, sharp and intense, seemed to absorb the light around them, regarding the festive scene with an air of detached scrutiny.
She smoothed her own elegant dress, a silent command of perfection.
"Kaguya-sama, we have arrived," Hayasaka stated, her voice a model of professional deference.
"Thank you, Hayasaka," Kaguya replied, her tone as cold and clear as ice. There was no warmth in the exchange, only the seamless execution of roles.
They began to walk towards the school gates, a pair of beautiful, formidable figures moving in sync.
The unspoken mission hung heavy between them, a web of conflicting agendas woven by the powerful Shinomiya family.
On the surface, Kaguya's objective was straightforward: to formally meet the teacher who, in a single, brief encounter, had seen through the fortress of her intellect and articulated her deepest, most hidden desire, not for victory, but for a genuine connection.
Officially, she was here to extend a proposition from her father: a lucrative teaching position at the prestigious Shuchi'in Academy.
It was framed as a reward for his 'positive influence,' but Kaguya knew the truth. It was a golden cage, a way for her father to bring a potentially powerful and unpredictable variable under the Shinomiya thumb.
Hayasaka walked a step behind, the perfect attendant.
Her mission, however, was dictated by a different master: Shinomiya Oko, Kaguya's eldest brother.
She was to observe every interaction, analyse every word, and determine if this Yoshioka Akira represented an opportunity for Oko's own machinations.
Could he be an asset? A business partner in the shadows?
Her mission, was to asses that
They passed through the gates, the noise and colour of the festival washing over them. To the students, they were just two incredibly beautiful and rich-looking visitors.
But beneath the surface, a silent game of espionage and familial power plays had just begun its first move.
The pieces were on the board. The players were in position.
And so, the game began
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Nanami Kento watched, his expression an exhausted resignation, as Gojo Satoru happily devoured a second serving of rainbow-sprinkled soft serve.
The ice cream was a garish contrast to the sorcerer's typically cool demeanour.
"Are you done?" Nanami asked, his voice flat. "We have been circulating this festival for an hour, and we haven't seen a single one of the girls from the report. This entire excursion seems pointless"
"What's the rush, Nanami?" Gojo replied, licking his spoon clean "It's not like we have anything else to do. And I doubt on a busy day like this, they'd be anywhere but this school. We've got time!"
"Haa," Nanami breathed out, a sigh of profound weariness.
He was a man who valued efficiency, and this was its antithesis. Just pointlessly wasting time
"Ooh, by the way," Gojo chirped, pointing with his empty ice cream cup. "I heard there's a classroom cafe that's the talk of the entire festival. Let's go check it out!"
Resigned to his fate, Nanami followed the bounding Special Grade sorcerer.
They arrived at a classroom door where a crowd of young girls was gathered, buzzing with an almost hysterical energy.
Gojo's head tilted slightly, a predator sensing interesting prey. "Well, that's a curious. Let's see what the commotion is about." With an effortless, almost telegraphed grace, he slipped through the crowd, appearing at the front of the line as if he'd always been there
"So, what's the special that has everyone so worked up?" Gojo asked, his voice playful.
The butler at the door, who had been bowing to a previous guest, straightened up. "Welcome, dear customer. I'm sorry, but we have no available tables for yo—?"
The man's words stopped in his throat.
Yoshioka Akira's crimson eyes, usually so serene, locked onto the source of the question.
He found himself staring at a man with hair as white as his own.
Gojo's playful smirk didn't falter, but his eyes sharpened. He slowly lowered his sunglasses, his own impossibly blue eyes peering over the rim. "Well," He said, his tone shifting from casual to intrigued. "This is a surprise."
Akira said nothing.
He simply stared back, his gaze unwavering.
In that single, silent moment, an unspoken understanding passed between them. Neither man was normal.
They were forces of nature wearing human skin.
"Excuse me" Akira said calmly, turning to a student helper. "I will take a small rest" He stepped away from the door, his movements still graceful despite the sudden tension.
The crowd of girls watched, confused, as the two impossibly handsome, white-haired men faced each other.
Nanami, who had been waiting at the periphery, saw Akira and his eyebrows shot up in recognition. "Wha—?" He started, but both Gojo and Akira ignored him, their focus entirely on one another.
The three men moved away from the crowd, turning a corner into a slightly quieter hallway.
Gojo's Six Eyes were working overtime, analysing the man before him.
What he saw—or rather, what he didn't see, was staggering.
It wasn't a technique like his Infinity, which used Cursed Energy to create an infinite space.
This was different. It was an absolute void. Any Cursed Energy that approached Akira's body simply… ceased to exist.
It was erased, deleted from reality upon contact.
And that is without counting that that effect made Gojo feel the white-haired man in front of him as if he had no curse energy
A familiar, concept clicked into place in Gojo's mind. Someone he has been looking for
Nanami, sensing the palpable, dangerous stillness in the air, stepped closer. "Gojo, what's going on?"
Gojo's smile widened, but it was no longer carefree.
It was the smile of a hunter who had finally found his quarry. He took off his sunglasses completely, his Six Eyes blazing with light. "Remember that mysterious 'Eraser' I told you about a long while ago? The incident where curses where completely erased from existence"
Nanami's eyes widened as he instantly connected the dots. His gaze snapped back to Akira. "You mean—?"
"Yeah," Gojo said, his voice dropping to a low, excited whisper. "I think I just found it."
Then, Akira, who had been silently observing the exchange, made his own move.
He reached up and calmly removed his own glasses, folding them and tucking them into his butler jacket pocket.
With the final obstacles gone, their true natures were fully exposed.
Now, truly, for the first time…
The burning red eyes of Yoshioka Akira met the limitless blue eyes of Gojo Satoru.