The Morning After
The sun rose over Tokyo Jujutsu High as if nothing had happened. The cicadas buzzed. The leaves rustled.
But on the training field, the atmosphere was... off.
Maki Zenin was shouting instructions. Panda was sparring with Toge. Nobara was hammering nails into a straw doll with frightening precision.
Yuji was stretching near the bleachers, looking unusually thoughtful.
Miyuki sat on the grass, holding a wooden practice staff, a bo staff Maki had shoved into her hands earlier. She was wearing the standard blue tracksuit, her hair tied back in a messy bun. She was trying to focus on Maki's lecture about "center of gravity," but her eyes kept darting toward the path leading to the faculty building.
"You're distracted," Maki's voice cut through the air like a whip.
Miyuki jumped, nearly dropping the staff. "I—I'm listening, Zenin-senpai."
Maki stared down at Miyuki critically, her scarred face impassive. She didn't need glasses anymore; her senses were sharp enough to perceive the soul of the very air around them.
"Your stance is sloppy," Maki stated, her voice rough. She kicked Miyuki's heel, forcing it wider. "Your feet are too close together. If a curse hits you now, you'll topple over like a bowling pin."
"Right. Sorry." Miyuki widened her stance.
"Is something wrong, Arima-san?" Yuji called out from his stretch, looking concerned. "You seem... jumpy today. Did the mission scare you that much?"
Miyuki forced a smile. "Just tired, Itadori-kun. The adrenaline crash is real."
"I get it!" Yuji grinned, doing a backflip just because he could. "But hey, you were awesome yesterday! Sensei said your 'eyes' are getting sharper!"
At the mention of "Sensei," Miyuki's stomach somersaulted.
"Speak of the devil," Nobara muttered, looking toward the entrance. "Here comes the blindfolded idiot."
Gojo Satoru strolled onto the field.
He looked exactly the same as always. High-collared uniform, black blindfold, hands in his pockets. He was whistling a pop song, carrying a white plastic bag from a convenience store.
"Good morning, my adorable students!" Gojo chirped, his voice loud and cheerful. "Who wants breakfast? I brought cream puffs!"
"It's 10 AM," Maki said flatly. "And sugar isn't breakfast."
"Details, details!" Gojo waved his hand dismissively. He tossed a puff to Panda, then one to Toge, and finally landed one perfectly in Yuji's mouth.
Then, he turned toward Miyuki.
The air seemed to freeze for a microsecond.
Miyuki gripped her staff tighter, her knuckles turning white. She didn't know where to look. At his face? At his shoes? Definitely not at his pants.
Gojo stopped a few feet away from her. He tilted his head. The smile on his face was the same plastered-on grin he showed the world, but the line of his jaw was tight.
"Miyuki-chan!" he exclaimed, using the overly familiar suffix he knew annoyed her. "You look terrible! Didn't sleep well?"
"I slept fine," Miyuki lied, meeting his covered gaze. "Just processing the... data from last night."
It was a code. Processing the closet incident.
Gojo's grin didn't falter, but his cursed energy spiked. "Data is important. But practice is better."
He stepped into her personal space.
Miyuki flinched. Instinctively, she took a step back.
Gojo paused. The movement was small, but everyone saw it. Yuji stopped chewing. Maki narrowed her eyes. Even Nobara lowered her hammer.
Arima Miyuki, who usually tolerated Gojo's annoying proximity with a sigh, had just recoiled from him as if he was burning.
"Your stance," Gojo said, his voice dropping just a fraction lower, losing the playful lilt. "Maki is right. It's weak."
He reached out to correct her posture. His hand moved toward her shoulder.
Miyuki held her breath. Don't panic. It's just a touch. He's a teacher.
His fingers brushed the fabric of her tracksuit.
ZAP.
A spark of static electricity, blue and visible, snapped between them. It was loud enough to be heard.
"Ouch!" Miyuki yanked her arm back, rubbing the spot.
Gojo pulled his hand away as if he'd been burned. He stared at his own fingertips, then at her.
"Static," Gojo muttered, sounding genuinely confused. "My Infinity... it should have filtered that out."
He looked up at her, his blindfold shifting as he tilted his head. The playfulness was gone. Now, he looked like a scientist staring at a dangerous, fascinating new element.
"Maybe you're malfunctioning, Gojo-sensei," Maki scoffed, though she looked suspicious. "Or maybe Arima's cursed energy is reacting to yours. Like oil and water."
Or like fire and gasoline, Miyuki thought.
Gojo cleared his throat. He shoved his hands back into his pockets, putting a safe distance between them. The playful mask slid back into place, but it looked thinner now.
"Well! That was shocking," he laughed, a hollow sound. "Anyway! Keep practicing! I have a meeting with Principal Yaga. Don't slack off!"
He turned on his heel and walked away fast. Too fast. He didn't look back. He didn't offer her a cream puff.
"Weird," Yuji mumbled, swallowing his treat. "He didn't even make fun of me today."
Nobara walked over to Miyuki, placing a hand on her hip. She looked at the retreating figure of their teacher, then at Miyuki's flushed face.
"Okay," Nobara said, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Something happened. Spill it, Arima. Did he bully you in the car? Did he make you pay for dinner? Or..."
Nobara leaned in, lowering her voice to a whisper.
"...did something else happen?"
Miyuki looked at her. She opened her mouth to deny it, to say 'Nothing, he's just annoying,' but the image of Gojo's lips on hers flooded her mind.
"I..." Miyuki started, her voice trembling. "I think I broke him."
Nobara's eyes went wide. "You broke Gojo Satoru? How?"
Miyuki looked at the static burn on her shoulder.
"I think I made him human."
The Interrogation
"You made him... human?" Nobara repeated, her eyebrow twitching. She looked from Miyuki to the empty space where Gojo had been standing, then back to Miyuki. "Arima, did you hit him on the head with that stick? Because that's the only way that man becomes human."
Miyuki realized she had said too much. The adrenaline of the spark, the literal shock of Gojo's rejection, or was it a malfunction, had loosened her tongue.
"I mean..." Miyuki stammered, gripping the bo staff until her knuckles hurt. "I mean, he made a mistake. With the static. He's usually in perfect control, right? It was just... weird to see him glitch."
Maki lowered her weapon, resting it on her shoulder. Her sharp eyes analyzed Miyuki's flushed face.
"Static doesn't just 'happen' to Gojo-sensei," Maki said, her voice calculating. "His Infinity filters everything. Sound, touch, heat. For a spark to get through, he either let it through... or he lost focus."
"He looked tired," Yuji offered helpfully, still chewing the last of his cream puff. "Maybe he's sick?"
"Idiots don't catch colds," Nobara quoted the old Japanese proverb, rolling her eyes. She grabbed Miyuki's arm. "Come on. We're taking a break. You look like you're about to pass out, and if you faint, Maki will just make you do push-ups while unconscious."
"Hey," Maki protested, but she didn't stop them.
Nobara dragged Miyuki toward the vending machines near the dorms, leaving the boys behind. As soon as they were out of earshot, she pinned Miyuki with a look that was scarier than any curse.
"Cut the crap," Nobara said, crossing her arms. "I know a 'girl trouble' face when I see one. And Gojo had the 'boy trouble' face. What happened in the museum?"
Miyuki slumped against the vending machine. The hum of the cooling unit vibrated against her back.
"We got stuck," Miyuki whispered. "In a maintenance gap. It was... tight."
Nobara's eyes widened. A slow, wicked grin spread across her face. "How tight?"
"Suffocatingly tight. And..." Miyuki looked at her shoes. "He... forgot to keep the barrier up."
Nobara gasped, covering her mouth with one hand. "No way. You touched the Untouchable? Like, skin-to-skin?"
"It was an accident!" Miyuki hissed, terrified that Megumi or Toge might walk by. "But... he reacted. He got flustered. And this morning... the static... I think his technique is confused. It doesn't know if I'm a threat or..."
"...or a lover," Nobara finished, wiggling her eyebrows.
"Nobara!"
"What? It's spicy! It's like a shoujo manga, but with more murder!" Nobara laughed, clapping Miyuki on the back hard enough to make her stumble. "Don't worry, Arima. If he breaks your heart, I'll use my cursed technique on his expensive shirts. I promise."
Miyuki managed a weak smile. "Thanks, Kugisaki."
"But seriously," Nobara's expression softened. "Be careful. He's Gojo Satoru. He's... a lot. Even for us."