Tokyo.
The annual "Sister School" Exchange Event.
This time, it was the Kyoto School Sister Exchange.
The pre-battle phase had begun.
In a lush forest clearing, a square-tiled floor stretched out, some patches sprouting moss, giving it a weathered look.
Tokyo School's first- and second-years were all present—except Hayashi and the absent Yuji Itadori.
Nobara Kugisaki stood with hands on hips, brows furrowed, scanning the area like a pirate lookout hunting prey.
After a full sweep with no target in sight, her slender hand dipped into her pocket, pulling out her phone.
"No need to call. He said he'll be here soon," Megumi Fushiguro noted her move and chimed in.
"That guy… love him and hate him," Nobara muttered, smacking her lips in frustration.
Maki Zenin, with her deep teal hair, glanced at Nobara. "Love him and hate him… what do you love?"
Nobara's face stiffened, waving her hands frantically. "Don't get it twisted—I didn't mean it like that!"
"Then what did you mean?" Panda tilted his head, puzzled. He only half-grasped human emotions—worldly enough, sure, but love? Not his forte.
He didn't need that stuff anyway.
"Stay out of it, will you? I meant Hayashi's cooking skills, not some mushy crap!!" Nobara shot Panda a fierce glare.
"Hey, they're here," Maki cut in, nodding toward the stone steps.
Tap, tap.
Tap, tap, tap-tap.
Footsteps grew closer.
Everyone turned. Heads poked up from the stairs, then torsos, until the full group emerged.
Leading the pack was Mai Zenin—short black hair, a sly, faintly seductive face with a dark edge.
Unlike Maki, she had cursed energy and a technique.
Next was Noritoshi Kamo, a third-year at Kyoto Jujutsu High. A side-branch Kamo family kid, he'd inherited the clan's technique the heir lacked, so they passed him off as legit. Quasi-first-grade strength.
His eyes always seemed shut, face blank.
Then came Mechamaru—robotic as ever. A second-year at Kyoto Jujutsu High, quasi-first-grade.
Behind him, Kasumi Miwa trailed with light blue hair, tentatively a third-grade sorcerer.
Given the vibe, Miwa followed quietly, her eyes darting around, cautious.
Beside her was Momozaka Nishimiya.
A third-year at Kyoto Jujutsu High, half-American through her dad—blonde, blue-eyed, and tiny.
In short, a cute little loli.
The group climbed the steps, facing off against Tokyo School. This exchange was their battlefield.
Mai's expression twitched. She'd noticed—Hayashi wasn't with Tokyo School.
And Kyoto's ace, Todo Aoi, their strongest fighter, was missing too.
They'd said he'd be here soon, but still no show.
Miwa glanced around, spotting neither Hayashi nor Todo. She whispered, barely audible beyond their group, "Um… hasn't Senior Todo arrived yet?"
Noritoshi tilted his head toward Mai. "He's usually punctual, even if the match hasn't started."
"Forget him. All troublemakers," Mai said, sounding drained. She couldn't control Todo anyway.
"Something up? You look stressed," Maki teased, chin up, eyeing Mai. "Spill it—maybe Tokyo School can help."
"Don't make me laugh, Maki. We're just fine," Mai snapped, her tone dripping with hostility.
"Cut the crap. Hand over the meet-and-greet gifts—Kinotume, Kuzukiri, soba crackers," Nobara beckoned at Kyoto's crew, channeling a gangster vibe.
Toge Inumaki: "Salmon."
Panda, quietly: "You hungry or something?"
Nishimiya fidgeted, clutching her oversized broom. "That first-year's intense… scary."
"No Okkotsu's one thing, but two first-years? They're giving us too much slack," Mechamaru's voice buzzed mechanically.
Nobara gawked. "A robot! There's a robot!"
"Not two first-years—three. One's still missing," Mai said, her face souring. Hayashi gave her a headache—that guy, stronger than even Todo.
Winning was already a long shot. Add Hayashi, this freak? Odds skyrocketed.
"A sorcerer's strength isn't tied to age. Take Fushiguro—he's Zenin blood but outshines the main family," Noritoshi said flatly. Mai's lips pursed beside him—was that a dig at her?
Rough but true. Age didn't dictate power. Fushiguro was one case; Hayashi was the outlier of their generation.
"What's wrong?" Noritoshi sensed Mai's irritation.
"Nothing," she huffed, arms crossing her chest.
Miwa scurried over. "Hey, hey… both of you, cool it."
She often played peacemaker—useless as she was, it fell to her.
As the chatter ramped up, clapping echoed from the steps below.
Clap~ Clap~
Heads turned. An Gogeji, in a kimono-like outfit, ascended.
Kyoto Jujutsu High teacher, quasi-first-grade sorcerer.
Gojo Satoru's senior, same year with sorcerer Mei Mei. A scar marred her beautiful face, but it couldn't dim her unique aura.
"Alright, no infighting. These kids…" An climbed the platform, scanning the group. "So, where's that idiot?"
Panda: "Gojo's late."
Maki: "No way that idiot's ever on time."
Fushiguro: "No one said the idiot's Gojo-sensei."
Nobara: "Then pray tell, when's this other idiot showing up?"
Whoosh~ Whoosh~ Whoosh-whoosh~
"Hm?"
Eyes swung to the side. Gojo Satoru, ever the clown, rolled up pushing a crate.
"Sorry to keep you waiting!"
He grinned, whipping the cart into a slick turn, parking it dead center between the teams.
Miwa's eyes sparkled. "It's a living Gojo Satoru!!!"