Your Life As A Tokyo Jujutsu High Background Student

Chapter 11 - What could possibly go wrong?

If Hakari and Kirara could see you now, they wouldn't just weep proud tears - they'd full-on ugly sob at the magnificence of your madness. Well, at least, Kirara would.

You, in your infinite chaotic wisdom, had crafted the most unhinged scheme in Tokyo Jujutsu High's history. A scheme so wild it made their fight club shenanigans look reasonable. A scheme that had somehow landed not only yourself but also half your underclassmen, your graduated senpai, the former-law-abiding assistant director Ijichi Kiyotaka, and esteemed healer Ieiri Shoko herself tossed in holding cells pending disciplinary action. Truly, you deserved some kind of award for Outstanding Achievement in Getting Everyone You Know Thrown into Jail.

Everything had gone perfectly, at first. Or your definition of perfect, anyway, which by normal societal standards would be considered utter disaster. But you weren't exactly known for normalcy, now were you? No, you were known for chaos in its purest form.

Yuji had resisted the crocheting lessons with truly impressive intensity for someone who ate a stinky mummified finger without hesitation. "This makes NO sense! My fingers are too big and stupid for these tiny demonic hooks and string!" He wailed at the top of his lungs, somehow tangled in a nest of yarn despite having barely started.

There was much screaming akin to being stabbed with a dull spoon (you would know), pitiful manly tears of pure frustration, and accidental near self-stabbings with said tiny demonic hooks that first day. One truly spectacular tantrum might have involved both furious hook hurling and endless furious laps around the room as you stared, unimpressed by his meltdown.

But eventually, motivated by survival instincts kicking in under your murderous glaring, Yuji powered through the learning curve. By day two, his meaty fingers figured out how to churn out shapes almost identifiable as woodland creatures. He even found time amidst all the meltdowns to lovingly craft customized cat amigurumi for each of you. A permanently scowling black cat for Megumi. An orange tabby even spunkier than Nobara for her highness. And for you, an aloof and vaguely judgy standard-issue cat in your image.

The fake corpse preps had gone smoothly too, all things considered. After the fifth grotesque attempt at molding slack facial muscles and realistic gelatin skin, you finally managed an uncannily accurate Shoko doppelgänger, whom you endearingly called Fake Shoko, down to the beauty mark and dead-eyed stare.

Real Shoko had generously provided a lock of her hair so dutiful errand boy Megumi could source the perfect wig to complete Fake Shoko. Though he grumbled bitterly about "being reduced to your personal shopper," you caught Megumi looking distinctly relieved for any excuse to flee Nobara's clingy clutches.

Speaking of those two, they'd been acting rather peculiar around each other recently. Was it your imagination, or had Nobara gotten even more aggressively handsy with Megumi lately, while the boy had become somehow more constantly flustered? Hmmm. Something saucy must have gone down during one of their "study sessions."

You made a mental note to thoroughly grill both parties later. Right now, you had bigger things to focus on... like putting the finishing touches on Fake Shoko before you accidentally drove Yuji into a mental breakdown via torture by crochet. Priorities.

On the fateful morning, once Ijichi confirmed the coast was clear of potential witnesses, it was finally time to kick this circus into high gear.

While Yuji and Nobara pulled distraction duty, putting their drama club skills to questionable use, you slipped away with the others to stage the false evidence. You had selected an ominous corner near the school gates for the photo shoot, just beyond the protective barrier's perimeter. Nothing said "sinister murder locale" quite like creepy abandoned buildings and dead foliage straight out of a slasher film set.