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Gojou Satoru loved the first day of classes. It was always exciting to see how the students he had handpicked fit together, to watch them make jokes and posture, reveling in their short-lived naivety and saving the memory so he could compare them against it in the future.
Sure, this year, the students weren’t all his choice. The sentient cursed corpse the principal had created, Panda, was a decision made over his head. But he’d bartered with Gakuganji to break the Zenin siblings up, with Maki specifically in his class, and he’d been the one to insist that the Inumaki heir was attending school in Tokyo.
When he walked into the classroom, it was oddly quiet. Toge was staring at the notebook on his desk, Maki was leaning back in her chair and affecting disinterest, and Panda appeared to be trying to make himself as small as possible, without much success.
Frankly, it was a big difference from their seniors. Satoru would miss the noise.
He walked up to the podium and clapped. “Good morning! Welcome to your first day at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech. I’m Mr. Gojou Satoru, and I’ll be your homeroom teacher this year.”
He heard Maki mutter, “Who doesn’t know who you are?” and grinned just a little wider.
“So, to begin, I’d like you all to introduce yourselves!” he continued, falling into the rhythm of his typical introductory speech. “Everyone say your name, your cursed technique, and what kind of snack food you like. I’ll start!”
Maki stared at him flatly. Toge drooped. Panda cocked his head to the side.
Satoru abruptly realized that he had no idea whether Panda even used a cursed technique or not, and Maki definitely didn’t.
He subsequently remembered that he’d never heard Toge say something that wasn’t the name of a rice ball ingredient.
“You can, ah, say the name of whatever you use to fight curses, if you don’t use a cursed technique,” he added quickly.
He felt the slice of Maki’s glare more keenly than he’d felt any knife in the last five years.
“Like I said, I’m Gojou Satoru, my cursed technique is called Limitless and…it’s complicated, but all you really need to know is that I can use it to manipulate space. I also have an ability called Six Eyes that enhances my perception, so don’t even think about trying to pass around notes--I see everything. Recently, I’ve really gotten to like kikufuku.” He paused. “Who wants to go next?”
Silence.
“I’ll pick someone,” he threatened.
Maki stood, pushing her chair back with a harsh screech. “Zenin Maki. Due to the Heavenly Restriction I was born with, I’m stronger than the average human, but I don’t have the ability to use cursed energy. I fight with cursed weapons. I don’t see why it’s any of your business, but I like honey butter chips.”
"Salmon," Toge said, looking tired. "Cod roe. Dried seaweed."
"... How about you write it on the board?"
Toge nodded and made a beeline for the head of the classroom.
"I'm Panda," the principal's cursed corpse said. "I don't really have a cursed technique, per se? I mostly rely on pure cursed energy and switching between my cores." He was quiet for a moment. "Does tea count as a snack?"
"Sure," Satoru said.
On the board, Toge had written: Inumaki Toge, Cursed Speech, onigiri.
“Good job with the introductions, everyone!” Satoru enthused.
Maki was glaring even harder now. That was what he got for trying to bullshit a Zenin. He was pretty sure they were all born with the ability to scent weakness.
“Does everyone have their textbooks?” he asked.
Maki rolled her eyes, while Toge held up one of the books in question. Panda, meanwhile, was attempting to extract his from his schoolbag. It seemed as though having claws made the whole process more complicated.
Had Yaga thought about how hard it would be for a panda to interact with books when he’d designed his…son? He was basically a son, wasn’t he?
Panda fumbled the book, and Satoru winced at the sound of a claw tearing through cardboard. Toge was politely looking away while Maki glared resolutely at Satoru as if this was all his fault.
Could Panda open a textbook? He had to be able to; he’d passed the placement tests and that would be impossible without reading. Unless he’d used audiobooks, or Yaga had been turning the pages--
Satoru was so underprepared for all of this.
“I, uh, the teacher’s lounge,” he said. “I’ll be right back!”
Toge seemed unbothered and Panda was too busy with his textbook to care, but Maki definitely saw right through him. Satoru couldn’t bring himself to care.
He didn’t even pretend he was actually going to the teacher’s lounge after he left the classroom. Yaga was in the teacher’s lounge. Yaga would want updates.
So instead, Satoru made a run for the nurse’s office.
Shoko didn’t even look up from her paperwork as he draped himself over one of the infirmary beds.
“It’s a little early in the year for a crisis,” she said.
“I’ve always been an overachiever,” Satoru replied brightly, squirming a little until his position on the bed was a bit more comfortable.
“You’ve always been a damned annoyance,” Shoko corrected. “What is it this time?”
Satoru wasn’t sure how to explain it.
He was used to having students who knew how to work around the drawbacks of their abilities. Sorcery was passed down through families. Elders taught their children how to navigate their powers and offset their drawbacks. Even Satoru, who could hardly say he had an ideal family background, had found out about the advantages of covering his eyes from the writings of his ancestors.
But Panda was the first of his kind to exist, the Zenin were all but ignoring Maki, and as for Toge…clearly something unpleasant had to be going on there too.
Satoru was used to teaching advanced techniques. His class needed more than that.
“I’m not qualified for this,” he said into the mattress.
“What, is the ‘only one honored under Heaven’ finally admitting there’s something he can’t do?” Shoko asked.
“Please stop teasing me about that; it’s been years,” Satoru said.
“You still believe it though, don’t you?”
“I mean, I am the strongest sorcerer alive,” Satoru said.
Shoko snorted. “Lonely up there at the top?” she asked.
“You have no idea,” Satoru said, and it was mostly a joke.
“You know how few sorcerers can heal the way I do,” Shoko said. “I understand a little more than you think.”
“Maybe,” Satoru said.
Shoko didn’t say anything.
“The kids need more than sorcery training,” Gojou said. “Or at least, they need other things too.”
“Oh?” Shoko said. “Could the Great Gojou Satoru need help from another teacher?”
Satoru didn’t like asking for help, mostly because other people didn’t do exactly what he wanted them to do at all times. But Shoko had a point. More importantly, she also had a medical degree.
“You’re a doctor!” he exclaimed, pushing himself up on the bed and swinging his legs up under him, so that he ended up in a perfect seiza kneel.
“I have been for a while, yes,” Shoko said. “Nice of you to notice.”
“What do you do when a person hurts their voice?” he asked.
“You mean their vocal chords?” Shoko asked, looking at him oddly. “I can explain the surgery to you, but--”
“No, I mean, how do you talk to them when they can’t talk?” he asked.
“Oh,” Shoko said. “...You have the Inumaki heir in your class, don’t you?”
“Yup,” Satoru said. “He mostly says the names of food. I think they’re code for something but I don’t know what they’re supposed to mean.”
“How did you plan to communicate with him, then?” she asked.
“Well, I mean, he’s pretty expressive….”
“How are you this much of an idiot when I know you’re a genius?” Shoko asked.
Satoru started to say something, but she cut him off with a glare to rival Maki’s earlier looks. Satoru normally enjoyed people glaring at him, but it was normally the result of him violating some dumb, antiquated rule that was helping absolutely no one. These glares were for things that he was arguably responsible for and he was thus enjoying them less.
“I’m coming back to your class with you,” she announced, standing.
“Okay?” Satoru said, uncertain.
“There’s a whole evaluation process for this sort of thing,” Shoko said. “There are people who specialize in doing it. It’s not something I can teach you to do in fifteen minutes.”
“I mean, I could probably learn it that fast,” Satoru said.
“No,” Shoko said decisively. “You could learn the theory, but you don’t have any experience with it. I’m not subjecting Inumaki to inadequate treatment just to prop up your delusions of grandeur.”
“I don’t have--”
“Shut up, Honored One.”
“I really hate you sometimes,” Satoru said.
“Don’t worry, it’s mutual,” Shoko replied. “Let’s go.”
When Satoru walked back into the classroom, the kids were, surprisingly, just sitting in their seats. Last year’s class had written inappropriate things on the chalkboard every time Gojou left the room.
“Sorry about that, everyone!” Gojou said. “Allow me to introduce Ieiri Shoko, Jujustu Tech's fabulous nurse.”
“I’m a doctor, you ingrate,” Shoko said. “Now, Inumaki, come with me.”
Toge pointed at himself, looking surprised.
“There are some gaps in your medical record that need to be addressed,” she said. “Gojou, I’ll have him back before lunch.”
“Good!” Satoru said.
Toge followed her out, still looking mystified.
Satoru turned to his remaining students and took a deep breath.
“We are going to have a talk about what both of you have learned so far,” he said.
Panda stared at him. “It’s been less than a half hour?”
“Not from me,” Satoru said. “I want to know your foundations in sorcery.”
The kids were both staring at him, now, but at least Maki wasn’t glaring.
“Let’s be honest,” Satoru said. “Neither of you grew up in a normal setting, and neither of you has ordinary abilities. Even among sorcerers, you’re exceptional. Do you understand what that means?”
“That we’ll never fit in?” Panda offered.
“That people will be jerks,” Maki said.
“Fitting in is overrated, and unfortunately people being jerks is a widespread phenomenon,” Satoru said. “What I meant is that I haven’t taught people with your abilities before, so we’re all going to be learning together.”
“That just makes it sounds like you’re making things up as you go along,” Maki said.
“I am,” Satoru said. “Pretty much always am, actually. Still the best sorcerer in Japan.”
“I’m starting to get why my clan head hates you,” Maki said.
“Almost everyone hates me,” Satoru said. “Especially my students. On that note, you do have a choice--you can tell me about your backgrounds in sorcery, or you can go run laps outside until Toge gets back. Your choice.”
“I don’t mind running laps,” Maki said.
“I’ll be releasing some low-level cursed spirits on the track, of course,” Satoru said. “Just so you don’t get bored.”
Maki actually growled at him, and he grinned at her, delighted.
“That’s the spirit!” he said. “So, have you decided yet?”
“I’ll tell you stuff, sure,” Maki said. “Not like there’s a lot to tell.”
“If you really want me to, I can,” Panda said. “But I’m pretty sure my dad has documentation of basically everything I’ve ever done.”
“I’d like it in your words, please,” Satoru said. “Though now that you’ve told me that wonderful information, I will be asking the principal for permission to see the footage of you as a baby.”
“You’re weird, Mr. Gojou,” Panda said.
“The highest compliment I can get,” Satoru responded, grinning. “So, my cute students?”
As Maki started discussing the martial arts she’d largely taught herself, Gojou found himself relaxing, just a bit. This was doable. A little more complicated than previous classes, but well within his abilities.
He took notes, mentally. What Maki knew, what Panda knew, where they overlapped. He paid attention to Maki’s distrust and Panda’s cautious reserve. He texted the principal about the curriculum he’d used with Panda and Megumi about whether he knew anything about his family’s physical training.
When Toge came back from meeting with Shoko, he waved at him and avoided making a big deal of the whiteboard that she must have given him, then started explaining the schoolwide science curriculum.
None of the kids trusted him yet, not really. That was fine. He had time to convince them that he was on their side.
For now, he was content with attempting to convince them that they were going to be spending an entire unit on jellyfish biology. Really, being a teacher was so rewarding.