Your Life As A Tokyo Jujutsu High Background Student

Chapter 21 - Ugly shrooms and the story of how Miwa becomes a fanfic writer

An obnoxiously loud holler reverberated through your dorm room door first thing that morning in late August.

"Come on Spices, let's go mess with Gakuganji!"

You flinched at the booming volume, a spike of irritation piercing your skull like an ice pick. Of course, it was Gojo bellowing through the paper-thin walls without a care. Didn't that man have any sense of decency before noon?

At least these days Gojo respected basic boundaries – ever since that tense heart-to-heart, he hadn't dared teleport himself directly into your room unannounced again. Safe from any inappropriate nudity, you supposed that was progress.

Tugging on your uniform jacket, you hefted your bag over one shoulder and yanked open the door, scowling up at the insufferable man-child grinning down at you. Blue eyes danced with impish glee behind those black glasses.

"For fuck's sake, sensei!" You jabbed an accusatory finger towards his shit-eating grin. "Were the wake-up screams really necessary? Pretty sure they could hear you all the way in Kyoto with that set of lungs."

The man looked absolutely delighted at getting such an over-the-top reaction out of you first thing in the morning. You glared as he chuckled, the sound far too amused for your not-yet-caffeinated state.

"Just wanna hype you up!" He raised his eyebrows in an exaggerated waggle. "You must have missed your old pal Wrinkly the Hutt!"

Gakuganji was a special-grade bastard, there was no denying that. One of the highest-ranking and oldest Elders on the High Council. For some important preparation ahead of this year's competition, he had arrived to discuss matters with Principal Yaga. But because he was a prick, the geezer refused to step foot on Tokyo's campus, instead demanding they meet at some fancy estate miles away.

And now Gojo wanted to hijack that meeting solely to piss off Gakuganji? You couldn't resist an opportunity like that to get under the old crow's skin if you tried.

"Yeah, alright, let's go give Elder Gakuganji a stroke," you agreed, a devious glint sparking in your eyes as you fell into step beside Gojo.

Maki would probably snap your neck for skipping practice, but Gojo's offer was just too enticing to pass up. You had to admit a certain perverse eagerness was already bubbling up at the prospect of watching Gojo stick it to the geezer, especially after all the crap he pulled.

The long drive to the estate gave Gojo a chance to catch you up on his latest misadventure. He launched right into it without preamble.

"So get this – last night I was ambushed by some weird ass cursed spirit that looked like a damn volcano."

You eyed the ugly scribble he shoved in your face skeptically. The volcano monstrosity was so abstractly depicted, you could hardly make out any defining features beyond the vague conical shape and smattering of red scribbles meant to be... lava? Fire? Who the hell knew with this man's kindergarten-level drawing ability.

"So let me get this straight," you said slowly, tapping the notepad. "You're telling me this was a special grade cursed spirit that's not even registered? And it could talk like a human?"

Gojo nodded, blue eyes glinting with amusement. "Yeah, and it had a terrible personality too."

You snorted. As if anyone could have worse people skills than him on a good day. "And let me guess – it tried to kill you?"

"Tried being the operative word," he chuckled darkly, brushing off the attempted murder as nothing more than a pesky inconvenience. "Luckily its shitty personality was only outmatched by its even shittier skills at, y'know... murdering me."