Your Life As A Tokyo Jujutsu High Background Student

Chapter 30 - Hello, Tsumiki

You winced as you tried to stretch out your stiff muscles, the familiar ache of sleeping in an awkward position settling into your bones. Glancing down, you saw the source of your discomfort – Megumi's head pillowed on your stomach, his face still mushed against you in an expression of pure serenity. At least one of you had managed to snooze soundly through the night.

Letting him sleep on you had seemed like a reasonable idea at the time. The training room floor was downright hazardous with all kinds of stickiness and who-knows-what-else. You cared too much about Megumi's pretty-boy face to let it get acquainted with that biohazard. Though in hindsight, this decision probably did a number on both your bodies.

A quick look of the room revealed the predictable carnage – the training room resembled a frat house ravaged by a rager. Empty beer cans and crushed solo cups littered the area, accompanied by disgusting puddles of indeterminate origin, and unconscious bodies of your fellow students strewn about in various states of disarray.

All except for Inumaki, that is. The guy was already up, sipping from an orange juice box and looking entirely too chipper as he poked at a groaning Nobara, who was still draped over Panda.

It took quite a long time and a ridiculous amount of cursing before everyone else gained relative consciousness and disentangled themselves from whoever they had ended up snuggling with in their shitfaced conditions.

The esteemed adults must have just thrown in the proverbial towel when they returned from their fancy restaurant outing downtown. What sane person would want to pry the tangled piles of drunken teenagers off that sticky training room floor?

The Kyoto jerks finally packed their bags and headed home, good riddance to that arrogant lot. As they departed, you came back to your room for a long shower to scrub away all the recent bad juju. At least this whole shitshow was over. Now that the walking, talking, calamity magnet known as Itadori Yuji was officially back in the fold, life at Tokyo Jujutsu High could finally return to some semblance of normalcy. Well, as normal as things ever got around here.

Speaking of Yuji, you heard his startled yelp echoing down the hallway as he no doubt returned to his room for the first time in ages. You chuckled to yourself, knowing full well the state of glorious disaster his dorm room had become. Between your laptop and snack stash, Megumi's books and notes, Nobara's skincare products (it was a strictly observed routine, her flawless complexion was basically sorcery), and a metric ton of other miscellaneous items that definitely didn't belong to him, Yuji's space had been utterly usurped.

When you sauntered into Yuji's room, hair still damp and water droplets trailing down your skin, Yuji was in the midst of a full-blown meltdown, clutching a battered cardboard box to his chest – the glossy bikini-clad figures peeking out leaving little to the imagination regarding its contents.

"I don't mind y'all taking over my room while I was away," he squawked indignantly, "but did you really have to mess with my stuff too?" The accusatory glare landed on Megumi and Nobara who had just changed out of their rumpled party clothes as well.

Megumi groaned, undoubtedly regretting every drop of alcohol that had passed his pretty lips last night. "Lower the volume, Itadori. Sounds below a banshee's wail would be ideal."

"It wasn't us, you dingus!" Nobara snapped, arms crossed defensively. "The school staff tried to clean out your grimy shit. You're lucky Spices threatened them within an inch of soiling themselves, or you'd be homeless and spank-bank-less right now."

You sighed, shaking your head. "Like she said, we tried putting your stuff back, but..."

An awkward silence filled the void as your gaze landed on the cardboard box still clutched protectively to his chest.