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Satoru intended to arrive on time, just this once he truly did. But curses won’t exorcise themselves, and unfortunately, the entire Jujutsu world is breathing down his neck, because part of his deal to stop Megumi’s sale to the Zenin clan was to “continue work engagements to his previous standard, and not let his performance be impacted by the presence of a child in any way.” And yeah, fine, he can do that, even though it’s actually two children (but of course no Zenin acknowledges Tsumiki in any way, shape, or form), and even though his workload has noticeably increased since the Zenins agreed—read: have been threatened and bribed—into that deal. He swears that family must somehow be behind all these first grade curses (if by nothing else, then by exuding obnoxious levels of unpleasantness and negativity into the world). It would be exactly like them to stir up trouble just to get their stingy little fingers on Megumi. And that’s not going to happen, so the extra work is just something he’s going to have to deal with. And it’s fine, Satoru’s got this, it’s not like it’s actually a challenge, they’re just curses. But it’s enough to make him late, and it’s frustrating.
By the time he walks up to the school, the sea of children has already thinned: only about a dozen kids remain waiting for their parents. He immediately spots Megumi and Tsumiki standing hand in hand; Megumi’s cursed energy stands out against non-sorcerers like the moon against the stars. The Divine Dogs are nearby, chasing each other across the school yard. They swerve between students unseen by all, except of course Megumi, whose eyes track them as they turn around and race down the street to enthusiastically greet Satoru as soon as they catch his scent.
The dogs dissolve into shadow, and when Satoru looks up, he sees that Megumi and Tsumiki have spotted him too. He waves to them, and Tsumiki waves back.
“You’re late,” Megumi comments as soon as he is within earshot.
“I know, I know,” he replies as he pulls Tsumiki into a half-hug. He knows better than to try to hug Megumi, but he holds out his other hand, and the boy gives him his heavy backpack. Do schools require kids to carry stones or something? Satoru pulls it up onto his shoulders. “There was a special grade cursed object near the airport and it attracted several first grade curses.”
“You didn’t get hurt, I hope?” Tsumiki, bless her heart, looks up at him all concerned. She worries entirely too much, and Satoru doesn’t want to imagine what it will be like for her when Megumi enrolls at Jujutsu Tech. So instead of contemplating that thought, he flashes her a brilliant smile and squeezes her reassuringly.
“Tsumiki, darling, I told you so many times. I don’t get hurt.”
Megumi rolls his eyes, and tries to peek into the paper bag that Satoru is carrying. “What’s in the bag?”
Satoru lifts it out of Megumi’s reach. “Work stuff.”
The movement exposes his side, and Tsumiki uses the opportunity to poke him in the ribs without warning. Satoru, ticklish as he is, yelps. Megumi grins at his suffering. The little menace.
“What was that for!?”
“And you say you can’t get hurt!” Tsumiki chides.
“That doesn’t count!”
Tsumiki glares at him as if she just proved her point. Which she did not. Satoru is careful about who he lets inside his little bubble of infinity, thank you very much. But clearly, she considers the discussion won, because she announces, “Since you’re here, I’m going to go home. I’m going to get started on dinner.”
“Don’t bother. Megumi and I will pick up some takeaway on our way home. Take a break instead.”
Tsumiki nods, even though Satoru knows she will actually be doing homework. But before he can emphasize his point about the importance of rest, a teacher steps up to them.
“Can I help you?” she asks. She stares disapprovingly at him for some unfathomable reason.
“Oh no, I’m just here for Megumi’s parent-teacher conference.” Satoru puts a hand on the kid’s spiky hair. It’s immediately swatted away.
Tsumiki politely excuses herself, and says goodbye to all three of them.
“Bye, Tsumiki,” says Megumi.
“See you tonight!” Satoru says. Then he turns back to the teacher, who is still hovering. “Is there a problem?”
“I’m afraid there is.” She somehow manages to look down on him despite being a full head shorter. “Megumi said his legal guardian would make an appearance this time.”
“Oh, that’s me,” Satoru says brightly, “Gojo Satoru.”
“Gojo Satoru,” she repeats flatly. “So you’re the one who has been signing Megumi’s grades this whole semester?”
Confused as to why she would question that, Satoru nods. The teacher turns to her student.
“Megumi! Am I to understand that you have not shown your grades to a parent or guardian since the beginning of the year?”
“I have!” Megumi protests. “He is my guardian.”
“I have had quite enough of your lying, young man—”
“He’s not lying though,” Satoru chimes in, but he’s blatantly ignored. The audacity!
“—and if you don’t bring an actual adult to the school to discuss your behaviour by the end of the week, there will be consequences to this—”
“Hey, lady!” Satoru interrupts loudly, and waves a hand in her face just to be as annoying as she is. “I’m literally right here!”
She finally lifts her glare from Megumi to Satoru. “Yes, very funny. How old are you, sixteen?”
Satoru lets out an offended gasp. “I’ll be nineteen next month!”
“I don’t have time for this,” the teacher snaps at him. “And Megumi, next time, bring your parents—”
“I don’t have parents,” Megumi tells her. Probably not for the first time.
"—or your guardians…"
Satoru ignores her tirade in favour of pulling out his wallet. He extends it toward the teacher.
"Look, here’s my ID. I'm a legal adult. So how about we get over this embarrassing little incident, and talk about… the things we talk about in a parent-teacher meeting? I’ll admit, I’m kinda new to this.”
The teacher takes his wallet, eyeing the ID in it with suspicion. “Do you have any proof of your guardianship over Megumi?”
“What? Yeah, I definitely have that, I think, but I don’t carry it around—hey, don’t go looking in there!”
But it’s too late: the teacher has unfolded his wallet. Her gaze immediately locks onto the license nestled between two credit cards.
“‘Jujutsu sorcerer Gojo Satoru,’” she reads from the card, “‘grade: special grade, base: Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School…’ Is this a joke?”
Satoru forces a smile onto his face. “Yeah, that’s… uh… a… a friend gave that to me. Kind of an inside joke, you know?” He extends his hand. “I’d like to have my wallet back.” Preferably before she notices the police license allowing him to enter crime scenes and accuses him of forgery.
But the teacher isn’t listening. Instead, she’s staring into the paper bag hanging from Satoru’s wrist, exposed now with his hand outstretched.
“May I see the contents of that bag, sir?” she asks. Her voice is unnaturally calm.
Satoru snatches the bag back. The contents are a special grade cursed dagger and a mummified eyeball, grade one or two at a guess, which had been swallowed by one of the curses on the scene. Satoru planned to drop the two items off at Jujutsu High this evening.
“You don’t need to see that,” he tells the teacher with his most winning smile. “So are we actually going to have a meeting, or should I take Megumi home?”
The teacher grabs Megumi’s shoulders firmly.
“I know I saw a bloody knife in there, sir. I’m not going to let my student go with you without seeing the contents of that bag. And an explanation.”
Satoru, as far as he can see, has three options.
- Grab Megumi and his wallet, and flee civilised society with the kids in tow when the police inevitably start looking for him as a suspected kidnapper and serial killer.
- Show her the contents of the bag, and come up with a reasonable excuse as to why the fuck he’s carrying around a dagger and a crusty eyeball on primary school grounds.
- Show her the contents of the bag, get the police called on him, and endure the inevitable ridicule this incident will provoke from Shoko and Megumi for the remainder of his days.
No problem, he can get outcome number two. He’s good at everything, so that must include improv too. No sweat.
“Fine, fine! There’s no need to be so cranky. Take a look.” Satoru steps to a nearby bench, and turns the bag over. The dagger falls out with a clang, and the eyeball follows with a wet plop.
To her credit, the teacher does not scream. Her only reaction is her fingers turning white on Megumi’s shoulders.
“That hurts,” the kid complains.
“Is that… an eye?” the teacher asks in a horrified whisper.
“It’s not human!” Satoru says quickly. At least, he’s fairly sure it isn’t. He saw a slit pupil when he looked at it, so it must have come from a feline. Or perhaps a very large snake. Definitely not a curse if the teacher can see it too.
“I’m calling the police.” The teacher is still staring at the eyeball.
Wonderful. If Satoru can't think of something, they will take him in for questioning. Then he'll have to wait in a holding cell while the police passes his case up the command chain until it eventually reaches someone in a high enough position to know that they would best leave the jujutsu world and everyone within it alone. It will likely take all night. How humiliating. Shoko will never let him live it down.
"There's no need. These are just…" Satoru starts, hoping a genius idea will strike him by the time he gets to the end of his sentence.
“They're fakes.” Megumi interjects smoothly. “He’s in a theatre group, and those are props. The knife is blunt. Stop being dramatic and show her, Satoru.”
“What? Oh, yeah, it’s totally fake!” Satoru picks up the dagger. The sharp blade is stained with blood. He’s intimately aware of the fact that it is real, human, and fresh. He drags the edge along the infinity barrier covering his palm, close enough to his skin that the distance is imperceptible to anything but the Six Eyes and maybe an electron microscope, and then he holds up his hand. “See? Completely harmless!”
The teacher processes that information for a minute, and thankfully, she concludes that this is a more reasonable explanation than whatever horror movie-esque serial killer situation she was no doubt imagining.
“I apologise, Mr Gojo,” she says. Her voice is still a little shaky. “They just looked so real…”
“Oh, it’s alright, ma’am,” Satoru says with a magnanimous wave of the dagger. “I’ll pass the compliment to our prop artist. She makes everything look so real, it’s incredible.”
“She’s very talented!” Megumi nods sagely, wandering over to the bench. He reaches out to poke the eyeball.
Satoru bats his hand away. “Don’t touch that! It’s delicate.”
In reality, it will most likely be a pain to destroy, but that is Yaga’s problem. Satoru’s problem is to make sure Megumi doesn’t get cursed, so he quickly packs away the two objects.
The teacher hands over Satoru’s wallet. “I suppose the ‘sorcerer’ card is a movie prop as well?”
“Yes, absolutely,” he nods. “I’m the strongest sorcerer in the world. In the movie, of course.” He lets his sunglasses slide down slightly so he can wink at the teacher over them.
“Can you not?” Megumi asks flatly.
“Aww, Megumi, don’t be jealous!” Satoru reaches out and pulls him into a surprise hug, deftly pinning the kid’s arms so he doesn’t wiggle away. He built up a lot of practice at this in the half year they’ve known each other. “He’s my tiny sorcerer apprentice,” he explains to the teacher seriously, holding Megumi’s face from behind like he’s showing off a grumpy, spiky trophy. “Very talented in his tiny sorcerer ways.”
“Shut up.” Megumi looks up to scowl at him, but it doesn’t escape Satoru’s notice that he blushed slightly at the praise. Satoru ruffles his hair.
This exchange is apparently enough to crack the teacher’s sternness, because she smiles at them.
“Is that true, Megumi?” she asks. “What kind of magic do you do then?”
“I summon animals from my shadow. Like this.” He shows the hand sign for the Divine Dogs. “I have two dogs and a toad, but I’m supposed to have ten when I’m fully trained.”
“That’s very sweet,” the teacher says, then lifts her gaze to Satoru, who’s still standing behind Megumi, resting his hands on his small shoulders. “I’m glad Megumi has a positive, nonviolent hobby. But I still want to meet his actual guardians to discuss his behaviour at school.”
“That’s still me.”
The teacher shoots him a glance that clearly shows she’s running out of patience again.
“Okay, okay,” Satoru lifts his hands in surrender. “Megumi’s legal guardian will be here tomorrow, at the same time, with the required paperwork to prove it. I’ll make sure of it.”
“You had better, Mr Gojo,” she says. “And don’t even think about sending another member of your little theatre troupe in their stead.”
“It won’t be another member,” Satoru promises. “Let’s go home, Megumi.”
“Are you going to carry me on your shoulders?”
“You’re going to grow up so spoiled,” he sighs, but he picks Megumi up anyway. This is the only form of physical affection Megumi accepts without complaint, so it’s not like Satoru is going to say no. There is just enough space for him to sit comfortably on Satoru's shoulders, just above his own backpack.
They say goodbye to Megumi’s teacher, then head toward the street.
“She’s going to be so mad when you come back tomorrow,” Megumi comments as soon as they are out of earshot from her.
“That’s true,” Satoru grins. “I can’t wait to see it. Watch your head.”
They walk through the school’s gates, but luckily, only Megumi’s tallest hair spikes graze the frame. Satoru turns back to wave at the teacher, before turning in the direction of their home.
“Do you actually have a paper that says you’re my guardian?” Megumi asks skeptically.
“Of course I do. Somewhere.”
He has no idea where it actually is, but one of the many benefits of Six Eyes is to help you find the stuff you misplaced.
“I thought you were making that up.”
Satoru gasps and turns his head up, pout on full display. “Are you implying I’m an irresponsible guardian?”
“You brought an eyeball to my parent-teacher conference,” Megumi points out.
“I didn’t have time to drop it off at Jujutsu High before.” He shakes the paper bag to emphasize his point. “Believe me, I’m not thrilled about carrying this around.”
“I can hold it for you,” Megumi offers innocently. Why he so badly wants to examine a bloody knife and an eyeball is beyond Satoru.
“Nice try.”
“Can I at least look at them when we get home?” Megumi pleads.
“Tsumiki will have my head, showing stuff like that to you.”
“But I’m going to see things like that anyway if I have to be a Jujutsu sorcerer,” Megumi protests. “Why can’t I see it now?”
“The same reason why they put age restrictions on movies.”
“But you let me watch those movies.”
“And then you get nightmares and wake me up in the middle of the night because you get spooked by the tree branch outside your window. Besides, these are cursed objects, and high grade ones. You have to be careful around them, or you could get seriously hurt.”
Megumi huffs. He puts his weirdly sharp elbows on Satoru’s head, probably with the pretext of resting his chin in his hands. Totally not out of revenge, no. Satoru pinches his shin in retaliation. Megumi presses his elbows down harder.
“Was the blood on the knife real?” the kid asks.
Satoru grimaces, remembering the mangled corpses on the scene. Some of the pieces were recognisable: a hand and a jaw here, a lung and a femur there. Others were unidentifiable red mush and white bone fragments. Satoru’s estimate of the number of victims fell anywhere between five and ten, and he saw a ribcage far too small to belong to an adult. At the end of the fight, he pulled the dagger out of the throat of a decapitated head.
Megumi was going nowhere near that sort of thing for a few more years at minimum. Let him finish primary school without seeing a dead body, at the very least.
“Yeah, the blood was real,” he admits. “You’re a genius for coming up with that actor excuse, you know that? I had no idea how to convince her that I’m not a serial killer.”
“You could be,” Megumi muses. “You’re just some guy I met on the street.”
“My fancy guardianship papers say otherwise~”
“I still don't believe you have those papers," the little traitor says. He kicks his feet against Satoru's ribs before adding, "Maybe you’re raising us so you can eat us later.”
Satoru laughs, and tugs on his ankle. “You’re safe from me, kid. You’re much too salty for my taste.”
Megumi huffs again, but Satoru is fairly sure that’s disguised laughter. His smile softens. Any day he can get the kid to laugh is a good day.
“Speaking of food. What do you want to eat? I promised Tsumiki dinner.”
“We should get udon from that place she likes.”
“No! Their desserts are awful!”
Megumi huffs. “There’s still mochi in the fridge.”
“I ate it for breakfast.”
“Then go to the bakery.”
“I’d have to turn around for that,” Satoru whines.
“Don’t you have super-speed?”
“People will see me.”
“Then tell them it’s real-life special effects.”
Satoru laughs. They continue bickering all the way home, then all the way through dinner (udon and ice cream), then all the way through a movie, as usual. After the kids go to bed, Satoru goes back to Jujutsu High to drop off the cursed objects, then spends an hour looking for those stupid guardianship papers. He falls into bed well past midnight, half-unconscious with how tired he is, trying not to think of the measly five hours of sleep he’s going to get.
But it’s all fine, really, because if he didn’t do it, then it’d be up to the kids to take care of themselves. Or worse, it would be up to the Zenins to “take care” of them. He turns to his side, Six Eyes granting him a perfectly good view of the kids’ essences sleeping soundly in the other room.
Yeah, he's got this; constant lateness and the occasional cursed eyeball be damned.