DUST ┄《 gojo s. x oc. 》

二.

The sun arose from its slumber beneath the mountains, shining its rays amongst those asleep and those who weren't as fortunate for such.

Between the two groups, a certain white-haired boy would fall into the latter. As one of the new 1st year students, the prodigy had already made himself a prominent presence. In his class, the other two were both considerably remarkable beings who could somewhat be on par with him.

Hence, he never found much particular interest in getting to know his 2nd and 3rd year upperclassmen above a superficial level. That isn't to say he didn't pick fights or taunt them though. It was his hobby to routinely provoke them with his attitude, especially the 2nd year 'gremlin' Akari Hirakuya.

For someone as short as her, she would always brag about being older than him. And he would always reply with snide remarks on her not understanding her own technique. Even if she did, he would still snark about his own technique's significantly stronger properties. Their bickering would always end in either his classmates or his other upperclassman, Yami Nikushimi, pulling them apart.

From what he was told, they were impressive sorcerers too. But he could bet his right leg that they weren't nearly as impressive as he is.

Hell, he bets his whole legacy that he could beat them both up in a fight. One-on-two.

Yet, Gojou couldn't bet the same on the person he saw yesterday.

Through his dorm door's crack, he spied with his little eye — someone whose every step overflowed in cursed energy. It was nigh leaking, blending into the trail of dried scarlet. Whoever they were, whatever they were; they filled the prodigy's mind like viscous, bitter goo.

It was such an unforgettable moment for someone like him — he had never witnessed such violent raw cursed energy that threatened to brim over the hallways' walls and its own host's shell.

Gojou Satoru had never been more tempted to sneak a peek than that night.

But a part of him enjoyed time's building suspense, luring him in and out from his usual slumber, coercing him back and forth from his wandering mind. He's never one to be nosy...

At least he thought he wasn't. Although both Shoko and Getou would argue otherwise.

"You up yet?" Speaking of the devil, his door would slide open at such velocity, revealing the two peers who had just rolled into their uniforms as well.

Buttoning his Jujutsu High emblem, the white-haired sorcerer would sneer at his invasive classmates, already used to their antics, "been waiting for you two snails all day." With exhilarated steps, he would make haste out his own dorm room, slinging his drawstring bag over his shoulder.

"All day my ass, you probably just woke up five minutes ago," in retort, Getou would shove his elbow into the prodigy, as if trying to force truth out by physical force.

"Nah, I meant it," with a firm smack to his friend's bun, Gojou would continue his own defence, "barely slept all night."

Shoko, much less violent than the two walking testosterone, would inquire in a voice that suggested she might already have the answer to the question, "and why is that? It's not like we had any homework."

"The thing in the hallways last night, that's what." As he gave his answer, the boy would unconsciously fixate his gaze onto the floor. Almost like he was searching for any residual evidence suggesting what he saw wasn't a hallucination.

"Wait, you felt it too?" The ravenette quickly followed.

"Yeah man."

"Shiiit, looks like it wasn't a fever dream."

"What do ya think it is?" Through his nigh black glasses, he would inspect even closer to seek out the bloodied stains.

But to no avail.

Albeit her lesser enthusiasm, Ieiri was still intrigued by the subject matter, "they're probably a new student, if they pass through the dorms."

Gojou already had the answer in his head, because through the thick, suffocating stench of blood, he saw Masamitchi Yaga's silhouette leading the other. It wasn't clear, thanks to the night's covering, but he could still make them out by his six eyes.

"When do you think we'll meet them then?" Hands in pockets, the fox-like Getou would lead them into even more anticipation.

"Bet it'll be soon, or I'm gonna find them myself." Pulling the door open to the main courtyard, Gojou would place a bet with his competitive friend regarding who would find the student first if it came down to that.

"I think—" Two palms would be placed atop both the boys' heads, twisting them to face the bustling courtyard filled with the two other grades, "we'll meet them now."

Instantaneously, the trio shared a collective realisation on why their teacher told them to gather at the yard instead of their classrooms yesterday. Though at the time, they presumed it was simply outdoors training.

But seeing the two other grades also being gathered?

Such occurrences really only happens when the new batch of students come into Jujutsu High, and they haven't been gathered here for the second time after that. The most they've ever seen the other years are on coincidental missions or patrolling areas.

All the other students turned their heads towards the trio, pairs upon pairs inspecting the three like they were the new-comers. Which, technically, they were as this was their first year at the school. But it had already been a while into the year, and they had all gotten acquainted with the school and its peculiarities.

The 3rd years were a lot more distant to them than the 2nd years, preferring to keep to their own circle. No one in the trio seemed to be paired with any 3rd years often either, perhaps due to the grade and experience differences. It wasn't like they enjoyed it being sent on missions with the 3rd years anyways, as they always had a gloomy presence. 'Walking corpses' was the term Gojou coined them.

Meanwhile, the 2nd years were already making their way towards the 1st years. Akari, energetic and fuelled as always, had her finger pointed towards the white-haired boy, who returned an equal face-eating grin. Yami, sensible and calm as always, had his hand on her uniform to respectfully pull her back from kicking their underclassmen. Their dynamic was friendly rivalry, yes. But... it was definitely possible for them to break a bone or few.

"OIOI—"

Both Shoko and Getou were getting ready on holding back the white-haired Pomeranian. Yet the chaotic greeting they expected never came. Instead, both Akari and Yami stilled with their eyes glued onto something behind them, on the door they came in through. Puzzled, Gojou was ready to start the barking fight, until something clicked in his head.

Pop-pop-pop; the gears clicked one after the other.

All blessed with quite decent reflexes, the three would turn around nigh-synchronised. In that one singular split second, Gojou forgot every word in his dictionary of snark; Getou forgot every word in his dictionary of condescension; Shoko forgot every word in her dictionary of maturity.

No one spoke.

It's the same silhouette that followed Masamitchi Yaga, he swears to himself. The same dishevelled locks that appeared as though it was chewed by wild dogs. Yet everything else was different; gone was the blood that trickled down onto the wooden floor, gone was the shirt and pants dyed crimson, gone was the overwhelming cursed energy.

So, why was everyone except the new student not breathing?