Your Life As A Tokyo Jujutsu High Background Student

Chapter 27 - The Goodwill Event - as if there's anything goodwill about it

After weeks of Maki's sadistic training regimen that left your muscles screaming and ego bruised, the day you had both dreaded and eagerly awaited finally arrived – the Goodwill Event. You swore Maki derived perverse pleasure from watching you all suffer, that vicious grin never leaving her face as she pushed you to your limits and then some. But damn if the torture hadn't paid off, leaving your team primed to wipe that smug look off the Kyoto delegation's faces.

The Kyoto delegation strode into your campus, their expressions radiating an aura of confidence bordering on arrogance – as if they had already determined the outcome and fully intended to wipe the floor with your troublemaking ass. Yes, you personally.

Elder Gakuganji, the esteemed principal of Kyoto Jujutsu School, led the procession, his piercing gaze burning into you like a branding iron as it conveyed an unspoken decree: "Prepare to suffer, you insolent whelp."

Behind him, the Kyoto students fanned out, their expressions ranging from mild confusion to haughty disinterest to outright derision.

Miwa averted her eyes awkwardly, a faint blush creeping across her cheeks – no doubt already conjuring salacious scenarios involving you, Gojo, and whatever forbidden liaisons her dirty mind could concoct. Damn imaginative girl.

There was also the exaggerated hip-sway from Mai as she crooned a throaty "Senpai," her lips curving in a teasing smirk that promised all manner of torment, both physical and psychological.

And then, finally... Todo. That moron flashed you a feral grin that made the hair on the back of your neck prickle. "We meet again, my friend." The words dripped with barely contained menace. Friend my ass. You mentally scoffed, but kept your mouth clamped shut through sheer force of will.

From the corner of your eye, you caught your friends bristling like a pack of threatened wolves, their bodies coiled with wary hostility. Nobara's hand strayed perilously close to the handle of her hammer, ready to whip it out at the first sign of provocation from those Kyoto pricks. Nearby, Megumi's fingers twitched restlessly, hovering in the first stages of weaving hand signs to summon his shikigami should the need arise to put certain individuals in their place.

The tense standoff showed no signs of de-escalating as Mechamaru, the literal robot from the Kyoto side, spoke up with a synthetic drawl somehow laced with condescension. "Where's your beloved Okkotsu? Hiding himself now that the real players are present?" His metallic gaze swept over Nobara and Megumi with open disdain. "It's a strange choice, replacing him with two first-years."

Nobara leaned over, muttering under her breath. "Wow, you weren't kidding, Spices. He really is a robot."

You elbowed her in the ribs. "Of course I wasn't. Did you think I made all that up for shits and giggles?"

Before you could formulate a suitably scathing retort for Mechamaru, Kamo interjected with a cool, almost bored tone. "Age is irrelevant when it comes to jujutsu sorcerers. Especially for one as gifted as Fushiguro." He nodded toward Megumi in a subtle show of respect. "He is a Zen'in, after all."

A derisive tsk slipped from between Maki's pursed lips at the none-too-subtle implication. Her steely glare could've glaciated the entire campus in an instant. Thankfully, before the entire "welcoming" party could devolve into a full-on, no-holds-barred brawl, Utahime – Kyoto's resident teacher – swanned forward with a placating smile.

"Hey now, no fighting," she fixed her group with a stern, motherly glare. "What will I do with you kids?"

Her gaze landed on your side, pinching into a scrutinizing squint as she scanned the assembled faces.