Your Life As A Tokyo Jujutsu High Background Student

Chapter 9 - Pretty little schemer

Ijichi Kiyotaka was truly the pinnacle of voluntary slavery... eh, productivity when he was hopped up on enough caffeine to resuscitate the dead and properly motivated. And there was no greater motivation than the thinly veiled threat of bodily harm from Gojo Satoru. So only a few days after the ambush that had nearly cost you your life, Ijichi gathered all the so-called "involved parties" in Principal Yaga's office with the efficiency of an overeager cruise director on crack.

Principal Yaga clearly didn't share Ijichi's broad definition of "involved" though. His sunglasses did nothing to hide the judgment oozing from his glare as he eyed you like you'd shown up in fuzzy slippers and hair curlers.

"Why are you here?" he demanded, massive arms crossing over his chest as he somehow looked down his nose at you despite being seated. His impressive build and abrasive tone reminded you of an angry silverback gorilla. "You're a student. This doesn't concern you."

Yaga was still rather crossed at you for the whole rockslide thing. And also, for not leaving any of the perpetrators alive for an interrogation. Logically, you supposed you could have. In hindsight, shooting to incapacitate rather than kill was an option. You could even try to rationalize your choice as necessary in the moment. That you couldn't risk your mediocre abilities failing. That hesitation could have gotten everyone killed. That it was the only way to protect your people.

But deep down, the hard truth was: No conscious choice was made at that moment. Making a choice would imply you considered options. When you looked at your pursuers, no alternatives crossed your mind. You went for the throat, as you always did - be they curses or humans. You felt no hesitation, no reservation. Your world narrowed to a single thought, pulsing in time with your racing heart: They threatened you and your people, so you would put them down and make sure they stay down for good, no matter what. You didn't even feel bad about it.

You talked to Megumi about it once. Asked him if it made you a terrible person - to not even consider mercy, and to have no remorse afterward. Megumi glared at you incredulously as if you had requested cuddles. "I don't care. As long as you come back to me... I mean, to us..." He said quietly, a faint blush on his cheeks. "Shoot whoever you please."

You wished Principal Yaga could be as pragmatic as Megumi. But God rarely heard your wishes, and if he did, he wasn't much inclined to grant them.

As Yaga moved to dismiss you, you bit your tongue, swallowing back a torrent of choice words that would certainly make Ijichi recoil with fear. Shoko's earlier warning echoed in your mind. Just because something pops into your head doesn't mean you have to say it out loud. You scrambled for a justification, a polite reason for your presence here, only to be spared by Shoko's timely interjection. Her voice was soft yet firm.

"Spices is the only reason I'm still alive, sensei." She said. "I don't see how this doesn't concern my bodyguard."

Yaga scowled, irritation simmering just below boiling. But he waved you off for the moment, redirecting his glare towards Gojo's casual sprawl instead. "Then why is Satoru here?"

Gojo was the picture of casual arrogance - lounging between you and Shoko on Yaga's plush sofa, one arm draped lazily over the back cushion behind you. "Of course, I'm here." Gojo crooned, ice-blue eyes glinting. "What concerns my dear Sho and Spices concerns me."

You fought the urge to elbow Gojo in his rock-hard abs to adjust his obnoxious manspreading. Honestly, even relaxing the man somehow managed to invade three times the personal space of an average person. With his yearly allotment of feelings entirely depleted, Gojo was even more infuriating than usual today.