You once joked that every time you left campus, some crazy shit went down. But as things stood, it was probably true. Or you were actually a distant descendant of some Cursed Speech user and you had accidentally put a curse on this clown school at some point during one of your colorful outbursts.
This noon you came back from your extended assignment-turned-food-tour with Nanami, fully prepared to have Maki ripping your ass for being late to the scheduled simulation practice with Ino.
Instead of facing Maki's wrath, an eerie silence greeted your return to the familiar halls. No barked orders, no clashing of weapons – just an unsettling quiet that set your snark senses tingling.
Rounding the corner to the infirmary, you found the source of the ominous stillness. Nobara and Inumaki were hunched together, looking wrecked. At the sight of your friends' rumpled forms, your travel bag slipped from your shoulder with a loud thud.
"Why is it that every time I go out, some of you guys get beaten up?" you stepped closer, eyes narrowing specifically at Nobara as you silently questioned why she always seemed to be one of the casualties.
Nobara met your judgy look with a defensive huff. "Can it, Spices! It's not my fault this time, I swear!"
Inumaki, throat too mangled to speak, gave an emphatic nod in agreement.
You threw your hands up in exasperation. "For fuck's sake, what fresh hell went down this time? Don't tell me I missed the apocalypse or some shit?"
The hushed silence that blanketed the halls was broken as Nobara filled you in on the situation. Shoko had been summoned to HQ for some kind of top-secret meetings, taking Ino as her bodyguard while you were away living it up with Nanami. With no one left to handle damage control, these two troublemakers had been left to fend for themselves.
You tsked loudly to drive home your dismay. "Seriously? You knuckleheads need to learn how to patch yourselves up. At least the basics. This is just sad."
Nobara's injuries didn't seem very serious – just some cuts and bruises. So you turned your attention to Inumaki first. The poor guy looked like he'd been through the wringer. You stepped up to him, unzipping his jacket collar without ceremony.
"Open up," you ordered brusquely, cupping his face.
Inumaki complied, mouth opening wide to allow you to inspect the damage. Tilting his head up, you got a better view of the angry red swelling ringing his throat. You couldn't resist a melodramatic wince.
"Did you swallow a whole damn hornet's nest or something?" You emphasized the question by squishing his cheeks with your hands.
"Got tear gas to his face," Nobara supplied helpfully from the sidelines.
"Ouch," you grimaced in sympathy. "Please tell me you at least flushed your throat with water after that?"
Inumaki nodded meekly, face still squished between your palms. At least the big idiot had that much sense. You released him with a sigh.
"Right, well let's get you sorted out then."
Grabbing the necessary herbs from Shoko's cabinet, you carefully weighed and mixed them for a soothing throat tonic. All the while, your ears were tuned to Nobara's dramatic retelling.
"So...," you began, unable to hide the teasing in your tone. "Some random curse user – a shitty Cursed Speech hack, by the sound of it – got the drop on you two?"
You shot Nobara a sidelong look. "You seriously went with some shady guy who stopped you on the street and asked you to model for him?"
She bristled at your jibe, chest puffing out in outrage. "Hey, give me some credit! That dirtbag used Cursed Speech on me! I didn't give him any info, though. He just... caught me off guard is all." A disgruntled huff escaped her lips, ruffling that stubborn strand of hair across her face.
YOU ARE READING
Your Life As A Tokyo Jujutsu High Background Student
FanfictionYou are a third year student at Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School. You are Gojo's most spoiled third year. Not that he has many options, since your classmates have all been suspended. You are Nanami's most favorite jujutsu sorcerer thanks to you...