"Smack!"
Asou Akiya slid open the left sliding door and clapped his hands sharply, cutting off the assistant supervisor just as they were about to collect the exam papers.
"Just a moment, Assistant Supervisor," Asou Akiya said with a gentle, perfectly pleasant smile, clapping his hands a second time. "Congratulations to everyone on finishing the history exam. Next, I'll help take your papers to Yaga-sensei for grading."
Gojo Satoru shot Asou Akiya an openly hostile look.
Getou Suguru smiled instead—yet behind him, a black vortex was slowly taking shape, ominous and restrained.
Ieiri Shoko rapidly packed up her stationery, fully prepared to abandon Asou Akiya and make a clean escape at any second.
Friendship? Shattered.
As though he hadn't noticed the three expressions, each more dreadful than the last, Asou Akiya neatly gathered their three exam papers and said, "Yaga-sensei has just finished doing the test himself as well." He wiped at his eyes in a display of utterly fake tears. Yaga Masamichi, after all, was a responsible homeroom teacher who had chosen to "share in both hardship and joy" with his students in the office, insisting on personally experiencing the quality of the questions his adopted son had set.
Mindful that the assistant supervisor was still present and wishing to preserve at least a shred of dignity, Asou Akiya silently mouthed a sentence without making a sound.
Unfortunately, he didn't pass.
"...(x3)"
The moment the three of them read his lips, the malice they had been suppressing plummeted, while their sense of impending doom skyrocketed.
"Getou, we can't wait any longer!" Gojo Satoru sensed danger and immediately began rallying his allies. "And Shoko, didn't you suffer through those questions too? Let's work together and send Akiya swinging on a swing ten thousand meters up in the air!"
A sharp glint flashed through Asou Akiya's eyes as he calmly assessed Getou Suguru and Ieiri Shoko.
High-altitude swinging? Very creative—definitely Getou's idea.
In the next instant, Asou Akiya draped himself in the halo of a fragile, innocent honor student and slipped behind the assistant supervisor, speaking with heartfelt concern for his classmates. "Compared to messing with me over something so trivial, shouldn't you be more interested in the answers to the exam questions?"
Asou Akiya continued, his tone laced with temptation, "Grading the papers takes time, so the official answers won't be announced that quickly. However, I can tell you one day in advance the answer to the question you care about the most."
Getou Suguru hesitated. The black vortex behind him seemed to make a soft pop as it vanished into nothingness.
He shot Gojo Satoru a look that clearly said calm down, forcibly powering down his darkened aura, and then asked eagerly, "Akiya, what's the answer to the fourth multiple-choice question on the history exam?"
Asou Akiya replied mercilessly, "It's [D]."
The fourth multiple-choice question asked how many methods existed in the world to completely eradicate cursed spirits. The correct answer on the exam was D: pure fantasy—there is no possibility of completely eradicating cursed spirits from the world.
Even the smartest person in the class had no way around it.
Getou Suguru was struck hard by the answer. All his motivation to pick a fight evaporated, and he let out a long sigh as he turned to leave. "I'll leave it to you guys."
Seeing this, Gojo Satoru and Ieiri Shoko both sucked in a sharp breath.
Gojo Satoru waggled his eyebrows meaningfully. "Shoko, you're up."
Ieiri Shoko asked, "Asou, I want to know—does the final question have a standard answer?"
Asou Akiya answered easily, "No. As long as your argument is reasonable and your logic is clear, you'll get points."
Ieiri Shoko slung her backpack over her shoulder and walked out with a bright, satisfied smile. "I'll leave it to you, Gojo."
Gojo Satoru: "..."
Lonely. Pitiful. But not helpless.
Watching Asou Akiya casually manipulate people's emotions, Gojo Satoru was furious. His two companions had just abandoned him like that. He remembered how, back when they had first enrolled, Asou Akiya had been rather timid, never daring to confront him head-on. Drawing on the same oppressive presence he had used to deal with Asou Akiya in those early days, Gojo Satoru let the overwhelming pressure of the "Six Eyes"—that gaze which saw through everything—wash forward.
Asou Akiya almost laughed.
Gojo Satoru's bottom line had long since been completely exposed.
He spoke with polite courtesy, his tone mild. "Gojo, is there any answer you want to know in advance?"
Gojo Satoru replied flatly, "No."
He had chosen the correct way to deal with the exam's creator, forcibly suppressing his urge to make things difficult as he declared with unrestrained arrogance, "The score of a history exam can't change a person's future. I don't need to know the past to create the history I want for myself!"
Asou Akiya's expression sobered. "Don't be so absolute with your words."
Gojo Satoru—if you really could do that, then there would have been no need for me to painstakingly design this exam in the first place.
Turning to the assistant supervisor, Asou Akiya adopted an entirely different demeanor—bright, gentle, and considerate. "I'll take it from here. Your invigilation is already over. Don't worry, I just want to have a private chat with Gojo."
The assistant supervisor retreated at once. Staying even one second longer would have felt like betraying Asou Akiya's goodwill.
The classroom fell silent and empty, with only the two of them remaining.
"For the sixth multiple-choice question, which options did you select?" Asou Akiya flipped through Gojo Satoru's exam paper. The pages were immaculate—compared to Getou Suguru's, there wasn't a single trace of hesitation or correction. "You chose [ABD]."
The sixth question asked which actions by a sorcerer would result in a death sentence handed down by the jujutsu world.
Asou Akiya looked up at him and asked calmly, "Let me ask you this. If you were forced to swallow one of Ryoumen Sukuna's fingers—if you, the esteemed young master of one of the Three Great Families, the Gojo clan heir—would you be able to escape the jujutsu world's death penalty?"
Gojo Satoru answered with undisguised pride, "Are you kidding me? Who could possibly force me to swallow something that disgusting?"
Then a voice, heavy with emotion, pressed down on his reckless arrogance and cut it short.
"You're only fifteen years old."
Asou Akiya placed the exam papers back onto the lectern, then walked straight up to Gojo Satoru and forced the boy—who had just stood up—back into his seat.
"Do you understand what I'm saying? You're only fifteen."
No matter how overwhelmingly powerful Gojo Satoru appeared to the outside world, no matter that he was already a semi–special-grade sorcerer…
He was still far too young, far too ignorant, and surrounded by far, far too many enemies.
"Don't be careless."
Asou Akiya's hands settled firmly on the white-haired boy's shoulders.
The twenty-five multiple-choice questions he had set, the six fill-in-the-blank questions, and the single grand history question—every last one of them—had been saturated with chilling, blood-soaked realities.
"Please—" don't wither so early.
The sudden drop in Asou Akiya's voice, the naked plea within it, caught Gojo Satoru completely off guard.
Gojo Satoru had always believed himself immune to any attempt at psychological warfare. Even if the two of them argued or bickered, at worst they would make up again by nightfall. Never, not once, had he imagined that Akiya would beg him.
Asou Akiya said quietly, "In my entire life, I never want to see a second pair of 'Six Eyes' appear."
The Star Plasma Vessel mission was a fated calamity binding Tengen, the Six Eyes, and the Star Plasma Vessel together. If the trial at sixteen could not be overcome, Gojo Satoru would die young—cut down somewhere near the gates of Tokyo Jujutsu High—and the Gojo clan would immediately give birth to a second pair of "Six Eyes." The owner of that second Six Eyes would inherit everything that had once belonged to Gojo Satoru: his identity, his status, his glory, and would casually dismiss their predecessor as nothing special.
Asou Akiya feared the butterfly effect more than anything. He could never face such a nightmare—not in this lifetime.
No… it was a scene he didn't even dare to let appear in his dreams.
Gojo Satoru sat stiffly in his seat, keenly aware that Asou Akiya—sent by his family—had crossed the invisible boundary between them, speaking from the heart instead of responding with the flat, restrained tone he had used back at Kyoto School when forced to answer questions about those three so-called "bindings."
The resistance in Gojo Satoru's posture slowly melted away. He reached out and roughly ruffled Asou Akiya's black hair, careless and familiar.
"Alright, alright. Don't worry about me so much," he said lightly. "You're making it impossible for me to even pick a fight."
Death, mutual destruction, annihilation—those exam questions were saturated with such themes, each one exposing the countless crises simmering in Asou Akiya's heart.
Gojo Satoru thought that living with such constant vigilance, such excessive foresight, must be exhausting.
Ever since he had grown older, the old fossils back home had been absurdly relaxed, treating the Limitless as a flawless technique that combined offense and defense into one, and indulging themselves by belittling the techniques of the other Two Great Families right in front of him.
Only this person—only Asou Akiya—saw his weaknesses, saw his exhaustion, and still said something so outrageously unfair.
—I never want to see a second pair of "Six Eyes."
Gojo Satoru instantly switched sides, his mood flipping as if nothing had happened. He grinned brightly and said, "Getou said he wants to hang you up and push you on a swing. Let's go get revenge on him."
Asou Akiya lowered his gaze. "I figured it was him. Let him rest for a day first."
True revenge would never fail to arrive.
Asou Akiya gathered up the exam papers. With nothing better to do, Gojo Satoru tagged along as they headed to the office to find Yaga Masamichi. The moment they stepped inside, the first thing that greeted them was a middle-aged man who had completely ruined his carefully gelled hair, clutching his head as he stared despairingly at the test paper, unable to believe that a teacher with years of experience could actually fail a history exam.
Gojo Satoru burst out laughing. "Hahahaha—Yaga, what kind of expression is that?"
Asou Akiya closed the office door behind them, stepped forward, confiscated the paper, and comforted him gently. "Sensei, please don't worry. They won't pass either."
That single sentence wiped the smile straight off Gojo Satoru's face.
He glared sharply. "Before the papers are graded, how can you be so sure we won't pass?"
Gojo Satoru raised his voice, indignant. "I've got full confidence that I'll pass!"
Asou Akiya shot back mercilessly, "Sorry, I genuinely have no confidence in you at all. You all got the very first question completely wrong."
Gojo Satoru immediately grabbed hold of their off-field savior—the homeroom teacher. "Yaga, you tell him. Did you get it right?"
Yaga Masamichi answered in pain, "I've never even seen someone with a 'Heavenly Restriction' constitution."
Asou Akiya said flatly, "The correct answer is ABD."
Gojo Satoru blinked in surprise. "Out of four options, C was excluded? People like that just have bad luck?"
Yaga Masamichi instinctively replayed that first multiple-choice question—the one that had made him scratch his head in agony—and, combined with the answer [ABD], the meaning became clear: a "Heavenly Restriction" referred to a rare individual with zero cursed energy but immense potential.
The only problem—
Their luck was terrible.
Asou Akiya spoke without the slightest ripple of emotion. "If you think being born into the main line of one of the Three Great Sorcerer Clan, having zero cursed energy, being unable to see cursed spirits from childhood, getting thrown into a cursed spirit vault by your own clan and tortured in every possible way, barely surviving, then having your pride shattered and living in the jujutsu world like a monkey counts as 'good luck,' then yes—by that standard, they're very lucky."
Gojo Satoru leaned toward Yaga Masamichi and whispered, "Who's that unlucky bastard Akiya's talking about?"
Trying to salvage at least a shred of his dignity as a homeroom teacher, Yaga Masamichi lowered his voice as well. "I've never heard of anyone like that among the Three Great Families."
Asou Akiya: "...Zenin Toji."
Hey, hey. You two don't need to hide it anymore.
At the sound of the name, Gojo Satoru and Yaga Masamichi wore identical expressions of blank confusion.
Asou Akiya corrected himself. "The Heavenly Tyrant."
Gojo Satoru was still lost, while Yaga Masamichi slowly began to recall something—until Asou Akiya spoke yet another title.
"The one known on the jujutsu world's underground dark web as—the Sorcerer Killer."
"That guy?!"
Yaga Masamichi's memories snapped fully awake, and he blurted out at once, "You two have to be careful around him. He has a habit of killing jujutsu sorcerers!"
The jujutsu world was already starving for talent, and now there was a bastard assassin like this lurking in the shadows. Yaga Masamichi beat his chest in anguish. "When I first learned about him, I heard he was a rare 'Heavenly Restriction' case—and from the direct line of the Three Great Families, no less! Gojo Satoru! What the hell is wrong with your Three Great Families? You raise your own people just so they grow up and take revenge on society?!"
Gojo Satoru was scolded until he looked utterly wronged. "I don't know him at all! On what grounds is Yaga yelling at me?!"
Asou Akiya struck with surgical precision. "No, you do know him. You've met before. The reason he loathes jujutsu sorcerers so deeply—you bear part of that responsibility."
Gojo Satoru refused to shoulder the blame. "Akiya, my memory's excellent. If I say I don't know him, then I don't know him."
Asou Akiya shook his head and sighed. A one-of-a-kind existence in the entire world, a man with zero cursed energy—and you dare forget him after meeting him once.
"Do you know?" Asou Akiya said slowly. "He… became obsessed with you at first sight."
"??????"
Don't doubt it—those question marks were the combined reaction hovering over the heads of both teacher and student.
Gojo Satoru finally snapped back to himself. He pulled off his sunglasses, took out his phone, and started snapping selfies, the flash going off again and again as he loudly praised himself. "Am I really that handsome? So handsome I charmed some sorcerer-killing assassin I don't even know?"
Yaga Masamichi was nearly blinded by the flashes and couldn't bear to watch any longer. "Would you two please be serious?!"
Gojo Satoru stopped mid-motion and asked dangerously, "Akiya, are you exaggerating?"
Asou Akiya replied gently, "I'm not lying. The moment he looked at you, he remembered it for the rest of his life."
Yaga Masamichi was stunned. "No way… love at first sight?"
In the filthy, chaotic back alleys of the Three Great Families, there was actually a pure-love story?
Asou Akiya said regretfully, "Mhm. He felt inferior, and not long after, he fled the Three Great Families."
Gojo Satoru: "Wow."
Gojo Satoru began clapping excitedly like an overenthusiastic seal. "That's insane—Akiya, tell me more!"
Gojo Satoru felt that all those times he'd sneered at the Three Great Families during clan meetings didn't even count as highlights of his life. This—this was the real peak!
He actually had a secret admirer.
He actually had a secret admirer who dared to break feudal tradition for his sake and defect from the Three Great Families.
Shouldn't teachers and students alike look up to his overwhelming charm?
Unable to help himself, Gojo Satoru's imagination ran wild: a pitiful little wretch from the direct line of the Three Great Families, an unlucky soul covered in scars, growing stubbornly like a weed pushing through cracks in stone, with a slender build uncannily similar to Asou Akiya's and a head of black hair.
Yaga Masamichi pondered for a moment, then suddenly looked up. "Wait. If I remember correctly, the 'Sorcerer Killer' became famous a long time ago."
His expression turned grave. "Before he defected, the Gojo he saw back then… how old was he?"
That question was no small matter at all.
It was the razor-thin boundary between a pure-love story and something outright criminal.
Gojo Satoru, still oblivious to where the problem lay, tilted his head. "Huh? No matter how old I was, I've been handsome since I was a kid."
Asou Akiya clenched his fist, lowered his head, and coughed lightly into it. "…I'm not entirely sure. Probably under ten."
Yaga Masamichi exploded. "Pervert!"
Gojo Satoru's pupils dilated, his lashes trembling, looking for all the world like a child with enormous, glossy eyes, radiating a unique, almost divine aura, as he thought to himself: The other people in the Three Great Families really know how to mess around.
Asou Akiya decided to clear the name of someone he had never even met. "I never said it was love."
Yaga Masamichi's face was full of righteous indignation. "That doesn't make it a good kind of feeling!"
Asou Akiya spread his hands. "Teacher, you guessed right. Yes—one glance was enough. He etched into his memory the shock that the 'Six Eyes' inflicted on him, and from that day on, he came to loathe the 'Six Eyes,' avoiding any place where they might appear."
The captivating halo shattered.
In an instant, Gojo Satoru went from a devastatingly handsome prodigy to a walking bad omen.
To hell with the Heavenly Tyrant, to hell with the Sorcerer Killer! Who did I ever provoke?!
Gojo Satoru ground his teeth. "I'm going to beat him flat."
Asou Akiya replied calmly, "Gojo, I'm telling you this seriously—you can't beat him right now. His physical combat skills and his mastery of cursed tools are unrivaled in the entire jujutsu world."
Gojo Satoru stared at Asou Akiya in disbelief, grabbed his wrist, and forcibly dragged him a step closer.
"You—what—did—you—just—say?"
"I admire his strength."
Asou Akiya deliberately provoked Gojo Satoru's nerves. A smile slowly spread across his face, yet within those black eyes seeped a chilling, unsettling coldness.
"Gojo, be careful of him—the man with zero cursed energy."
A top-tier powerhouse unacknowledged by the jujutsu world, the legendary special-grade gatekeeper spoken of only in whispers: Fushiguro Toji.
…
Fate twisted through a series of absurd turns.
He successfully married into the "Fushiguro" family.
The sorcerer killer who had abandoned his original surname stood there holding a marriage certificate, a two-year-old child cradled in his arms. Unable to suppress the itch at the bridge of his nose, he suddenly faced the open space ahead and sneezed several times in one breath.
"Which rich lady is thinking about me now?" he muttered, pinching his nose.
In his solid, powerful embrace, the spiky-haired toddler wore an expression of pure disdain.
From that moment on, they were known as Fushiguro Toji and Fushiguro Megumi—a father and son who had married into the wife's family, a so-called kept man and his child.
—utterly devoid of even the slightest air of a mighty warrior.
—
[Mini Theater]
Fushiguro Toji: "Which rich lady is thinking about me?"
Asou Akiya: "Oh, this one." (points at the white-haired young master—furious enough to combust)
Fushiguro Toji: "…Tch."
Gojo Satoru: "AAAAAH—DAMN IT, I'M GOING TO BEAT YOU FLAT!!!"