Your Life As A Tokyo Jujutsu High Background Student

Chapter 56 - It's 4:00 AM, Cho.

Choso hadn't experienced much of the world – a deficiency hardly his fault, given his unorthodox origins. He'd been spat out into existence with the sole purpose of murdering innocent people. Not the sort of upbringing that lent itself to a well-rounded life, was it?

Sure, he had his vessel's knowledge rattling around somewhere in the cluttered attic of his mind. That, however, was like having a detailed instruction manual written in a language he barely spoke. Until recently, he'd never bothered to stop and process any of it, his schedule previously crammed with the demanding agenda of villainy.

Now, a few weeks into his rather abrupt redemption arc as a certified "good guy" – a title he'd earned mainly by not ripping anyone's limbs off anymore – Choso finally had the luxury of time to explore this brave new world he'd stumbled into. More importantly, he could spend quality time with his little brother Yuji. That, in Choso's straightforward logic, made switching sides the best decision he'd ever made, right up there with his recent – and equally life-altering – adoption of regular showering habits. He was starting to understand why people did the "being clean" thing; it was a significant improvement over the sticky feeling he'd grown accustomed to.

Speaking of being a good guy – his first rodeo in the hero business – Choso hadn't known quite what to expect. His resume was admittedly a bit thin in the "being a functional member of society" department. Unless "Mass Murder" counted as a valuable job skill, which, for some reason, it didn't.

So far, the job seemed to entail a surprising amount of breaking and entering, intense staring contests, and a whole lot of running around like a headless chicken. There had been enough chaos, confusion, and mild panic to make his head spin. Though he'd later discover, after some contemplative nose-picking, that was less about the job description and more a natural side effect of prolonged exposure to you – a natural disaster in an average, unassuming package.

Amidst the mayhem and ethically dubious activities, Choso had discovered some unexpectedly nice perks to this whole redemption gig. Take his new nickname, for instance. He wasn't just Choso anymore – sometimes, he was Cho. The first time you'd called him that, it had felt strange, foreign on his ears, as all new things did. Yet, right there on the spot, something warm and unfamiliar had bloomed in his chest, a feeling he couldn't quite identify, couldn't categorize, but desperately craved more of. He'd decided he liked it – liked the way the shortened syllable rolled off your tongue with casual affection, like you'd been calling him that forever, like he belonged next to you.

Through diligent observation (aka unabashed staring), he'd noticed your tendency to bestow nicknames upon your friends like tiny verbal gifts. The realization that he'd somehow made it onto that exclusive list sent a ridiculous flutter of pride through him, the kind that made him want to puff up his chest like one of those documentary birds Yuji had shown him.

Against all odds and probability calculations, Choso hadn't just found his precious little brother – he'd gained a friend too. A fierce one at that, always ready to jump to his defense with the righteous fury of a mother bear protecting her cubs, even when he didn't need it (which was most of the time, but he appreciated the sentiment anyway). Besides, he found the way your nose crinkled when you were angry rather endearing.

In the ongoing saga of Choso's integration into polite society – and by polite society, it mostly meant "your life" – perhaps the most astonishing development was his acquisition of prime real estate. Specifically, his very own corner in your room.

The process hadn't been smooth. You'd grumbled, threatened, and attempted various creative eviction methods (including but not limited to strategic furniture rearrangement and the occasional thrown pillow aimed at his face). All had proved futile. Choso's stubbornness had eventually worn down your resistance. Like many battles in your life, you'd chosen to adapt rather than continue fighting a losing war.