the fruits

TOKYO JUJUTSU HIGH WAS BIG. It was perhaps less traditional than the Kyoto sister-school, but nonetheless it was not lacking in size. Kyoto had been filled with temple-like buildings, not unlike the Zenin estate. But whereas the Zenin estate was quintessential Japanese architecture, elements of Buddhism had made its way into the Jujutsu High buildings.

Regardless, Tokyo Jujutsu High's basketball court was built like a regular sports building instead of the temple exterior of Kyoto High's. Both schools had a track field. Both schools had a separate male-female dormitory, both for propriety and to minimize the amount of teen pregnancies in a school filled with a limited amount of horny teenagers. You'd think the smaller the school, the rules could be bent, but no — sorcerers were solitary creatures by nature, put them in a space together and they'd be much more inclined to go at it like rabbits than the average group of teenagers simply because humans were social creatures.

Naoki's dorm room was big, not as big as their room in the Zenin estate, but larger than the cramped hole-in-the wall apartments. There was a desk and chair pressed up to the wall beside the window, a bed tucked on the opposite end, with a wardrobe beside the desk. The desk and bed were separated by a floor to ceiling window, and it looked like Naoki got the view of the bamboo forest surrounding the school premises.

Wonderful. They had been afraid they'd get a crappy view because they specifically put in the request to be as far away from people as possible.

They'd already need to deal with people during classes and missions, they certainly weren't going to deal with them beyond any professional scope.

Naoki quickly shut the door to their bedroom, rueing the fact that Tokyo Jujutsu High engraved the names of the dorm owners onto the plaque stuck to the doors. That was a waste of resources, in Naoki's opinion, most students ended up dead before graduating. Regardless, Naoki didn't want to be bothered while unpacking or while changing.

Naoki began with laying their luggage of clothes on the floor, they’d put in an order for a shelf where they would later put their animal figurines. They were beautiful, tiny ceramic creatures each depicting the shikigami of the Ten Shadows Technique.

It had been a surprisingly thoughtful gift from their father for their fifteenth birthday. Their mother had given them more sports clothes for training which was typical for her, it was always training equipment or weapons. And Naoya had given them a canister of rat poison which they had almost accidentally inhaled while opening the gift.

They supposed it was fair, Naoki had gifted their younger brother a dog muzzle specifically catered to Naoya's face for his birthday.

For now the little figurines would line up their desk, from the Divine Dogs to the fearsome Mahoraga.

Naoki finished unpacking quite quickly, taking the time to change out of the stifling traditional clothes the Zenin clan insisted to wear daily. They flopped onto their bed, the sheets were a bland light blue they didn’t bother changing with the ostentatious silk ones their mother had packed for them. Their mother would wrinkle their nose at their laziness, remarking on the cheap quality of the sheets - but Naoki couldn’t bring themself to care. Besides, Zenin Yukina was not here to criticize her child for anything and everything under the sun.

Naoki flapped their arms and legs as if they were making snow angels on the sheets, almost giddy at the prospect of being able to do whatever they wanted so long as they didn’t shame their clan. Standing on their bed, they began to jump up and down. Mindful to keep their Cursed Energy trapped in and to relax their physique, they jumped as high as they could, bouncing on the bed which creaked with their weight. They used to do this with their little brother, but it would always end with a scuffle when they inevitably tumbled onto the hard wooden floors.

A knock resounded through the room and Naoki had never jumped down their bed and rolled right under it quicker than they just did.

Naoki got their heavy breathing under control, pulling their Cursed Energy in as tightly as possible, willing the person at the door to go away.

“Hello?” it was a smooth, soft-spoken voice that still demanded to be heard.

Naoki pressed their eyes shut, biting their lips as they sighed through their nose.

“Sorry to bother you… I’m Getou Suguru, a fellow first year student. I was thinking… we could maybe go get tea together?”

Getou Suguru. He was the Special Grade whose parents were non-sorcerers. He was from a small village somewhere in the Kanto region when he was scouted because of his massive amount of Cursed Energy. Naoki could feel it, rolling out in waves from behind the door. Before coming, Naoki had read up on their prospective classmates. There was them, Getou, Gojo (and they had nearly bashed in the teeth of the Jujutsu High staff who told them), and a girl - Ieiri.

“I’m allergic to tea.” Naoki called out.

“Huh..?” perhaps Getou was baffled at the idea of a Japanese person being allergic to tea, but Naoki was sure they existed somewhere. It’s just that they weren’t Naoki. “Oh! Oh, we don’t have to get tea, I don’t mind coffee -”

Please go away, Naoki cringed. But what else was Naoki supposed to say? That they were allergic to coffee?

“ - Ah, but I get it if you don’t want to… It’s fine, really.”

The boy had sounded so pitiful, Naoki wanted to kick themself. They groaned, rolling out of bed and standing up in a single, fluid motion. They unlocked their door, faced with the back of a boy clad in a dark jumper.

The boy turned to face them and Naoki wanted to scream. He had deep purple eyes, the colour of amethysts and dark hair tied into a bun with a strand hanging in the front. He was pretty to look at, but good lord - his fucking earrings. They pulled on his ears and made him look like a wannabe Buddha. He was wearing a dark jumper and a pair of baggy cargo pants, paired with a pair of black slip-on sandals that belonged on a senior citizen’s feet instead of a highschool student.

Naoki quickly straightened themself. “Zenin Naoki.” they said, shortly.

Getou, who had been staring at them wide eyed with a slack jaw, stepped closer and bowed lightly. “Getou Suguru.”

Naoki nodded. “Are we leaving now?”

A look of pleased surprise came upon his face and he smiled. “Whenever you’re comfortable.”

“We can leave now,” they said, stepping past him, “I’ll wait for you to change.”

“Eh?”

Naoki blinked, before realization hit them. “Oh, you’re already dressed.” like a hobo.

“Yeah.” Getou shrugged, though he was now looking at Naoki with an expression that was more bemused than anything else.

“Good. Let’s go.” Naoki turned around, continuing to walk without looking if Getou was following.

By the sound of his footsteps, it seemed he was. He took a few long steps and walked beside Naoki, smiling when Naoki caught his eyes.

He seemed to smile a lot, which was a waste of energy on facial muscles in Naoki’s opinion but all sorcerers were weird. Besides, Getou’s smile wasn’t the worst thing to look at if one discounted the awful earrings. It was nothing like Six Eyes’ awful smile, smirks from a boy who had to get attention from everyone around him because his parents never gave him much of that. Getou’s smile was polite and pleasant, hobo fashion sense aside, he was already setting up to be a decent classmate.

Naoki’s good opinion dropped slightly when he started asking asinine questions. “Zenin-san, where are you from?”

“Kyoto.”

“Ah, the old capital. I wish I could visit someday.”

“You’ll probably drop by during missions.”

“That’s great!” Getou seemed genuinely pleased at the idea, “I’m from Oshino, Yamanashi.”

That really was in the middle of nowhere, Naoki couldn’t help but think. Despite the presence of the Oshino Hakkai, eight springs formed by waters from Fujiyama, there was still no railway access there.

“That’s… hard to reach.”

Getou laughed airily. “Yeah, it’s no Kyoto for sure.”

They’d been walking for the better part of the hour in the middle of Asakusa. Naoki had never been to any of the cafes in Asakusa, trips to Tokyo were usually spent around the Ginza and Omotesandou area when they had to eat. Getou had mentioned that he wanted to see Kyoto and the area with the greatest resemblance to Kyoto in Tokyo was Asakusa, which was filled with historical architecture.

“Zenin-san?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you actually know where we’re going?”

Naoki felt like shoving him into oncoming traffic, so they grabbed Getou’s arm and dragged him into the first cafe they saw before they could act on that particular impulse.

‘Saryo Hanazomukashino’, the sign read.

“Here.” they said, as the two stood at the door.

As if they had been here a thousand times, Naoki ignored cries of ‘welcome’ and sat on one of the wooden tables with Getou following suit.

Naoki barely glanced at the menu before deciding. “One cold hojicha latte and one burnt cheesecake.” they told the waitress, in an effort to seem as if they knew what they were doing.

Getou, mercifully, raised a brow but did not call them out on the tea. “I'll have the same drink, but with dango instead. Thank you.”

Getou smiled, and the waitress’s face turned an unflattering shade of red as if she was going to burst a blood vessel.

Naoki scoffed quietly and rolled their eyes. Tomato-face bowed and apologized, telling them that their orders would be there soon.

“I thought you were allergic to tea.” Naoki could hear the laughter in his voice.

“Do you want me to admit that I just said that to get you to go away?” they snapped.

This time, Getou actually had the audacity to laugh which made Naoki rethink their decision to not push Getou into oncoming traffic. He was a Special Grade, he would've been fine. A little banged up, but fine. If he was crying over getting pushed into oncoming traffic, well he wouldn't survive Naoya.

“What made you change your decision?” he asked, curiosity lining his tone.

“You sounded so pitiful it was unseemly.” Naoki sneered.

Getou sniggered, smiling at Naoki. His smile was strange this time, it was polite as ever but there was something more that made Naoki’s disgusted sneer grow. Why was he looking at them like that? Did he want something from them?

“I'm not paying for your drink and snacks.” because that was the only reason why he would smile at them like that.

“I wasn't expecting you to.” Getou said calmly, not at all offended as they expected him to be.

“Good.”

The waitress came back with their drinks and snacks. She brought out a blow torch, and proceeded to torch the top of Naoki's cheesecake until the cheese bubbled and overflowed down the cake into the plate. She kept going until there was a definite golden crust on the top of the cheese.

When she was done, she bowed and said, “Enjoy!”

“Thank you.” Getou said, because Naoki was already cutting into their cheesecake.

The waitress looked as if she was on the verge of an aneurysm again, but Naoki was too busy sipping on their hojicha latte and taking bites of their cheesecake to roll their eyes at such a stupid creature.

“It's delicious,” Getou remarked, “this is my first time trying a tea latte.”

“Wow, you really did live in a cave. Do you still make handprints in red ochre on the wall?”

Getou took a bite of his dango. “I was more of the animals drawn with charcoal type.”

Yukina would've slapped him for speaking with his mouth full. But then again, Zenin Yukina was Naoki's mother and not Getou's. Perhaps that was for the better, lest Getou not be who he was today. A tolerable human being.

“An artist.” Naoki deadpanned.

Getou twirled his now bare dango stick. “I live to impress.”

But Naoki was vicious, raised to be as precise and methodical as a surgeon to the brutal haphazardness of Naoya's butcher. “And how's that working out for you, Mr Special Grade?”

Getou let the comment roll off his back. “It could be worse — I don't know, I haven't been to class or on missions yet.”

“Mhm.”

“The other Special Grade in our class — Gojo Satoru — I asked him to come but he said he was too busy with Digimon to, and I quote; ‘bless you plebeians with my presence’.”

Naoki huffed, taking a sip of their latte. “That sounds just like him.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“You'll have to find out for yourself,” Naoki said, cracking their neck. “Far be it for me to spoil the magnanimous Six Eyes’ show.”

Getou's eyes light up in curiosity. “There's beef between you two?”

Naoki thought of the time Gojo Satoru slapped them when they were six and without missing a beat, they slapped him right back. Things have not improved between them since.

“Between our clans,” Naoki explained, “400 years worth of it, actually. Started when both our clan heads killed each other in some kind of kamikaze fight.”

Or at least, it was kamikaze for the Ten Shadows wielder.

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” Naoki plopped a bite of cake into their mouth, “you'll find that generational grudges in the Jujutsu world are very real.”

They didn't talk much after that, both of them enjoying their lattes. When it came time to pay, Naoki slammed a bill down on the cashier.

“Keep the change.” they said shortly, before exiting the cafe with Getou in tow, ignoring the cries of thanks and ‘please come again soon’.

The trip back was mostly silent and when they finally reached their dorms, Getou paused at the entrance. “Zenin-san,” he called out and Naoki stopped walking.

“Today was good, let's do it again sometimes,” he said, sincerity pouring out of every word. It made Naoki disgusted, a feeling like bugs crawling all over them. “Oh, and about my drink and snacks —”

Getou had already brought out his wallet, but Naoki was already at the front door.

“Goodnight.” they said, without looking back at him and slamming the dorm entrance's door behind them.

Naoki woke up when the sun had yet to fully rise. They didn’t bother to start training in the morning here yet, but her internal clock dictated them to wake up a certain time each day. It was a cold spring morning that had Naoki burying themself deeper underneath their covers, yet to open their eyes to face the gruelling day. A hand reached out for the bedside table, fingers finding the cool metal of their phones.

They flipped the flap open, checking the time; 4.47 in the morning.

Huh, they slept in. Back at home they’d usually be up at 4 and out the door of their bedrooms by 4.30. Anything later than that, their mother would send servants to pour a bucket of freezing cold water over their heads. Or if she was feeling particularly cruel, send Naoya, who was grumpy to have been bothered, to kick them awake. Naoki let out a gleeful sound, here they could wake up as late as they wanted and there would be no waterboarding or kicking little brothers.

Naoki stayed in bed until 6.00 when they got up to start their morning ablutions. They stretched, but it was nothing like a morning warm-up before training, washed themself, and then put on their uniforms. The air was rather dry this morning and their lips were chapped, so they put on some lip balm. It was scentless, clear, and did the job. Once, Naoki had requested a strawberry scented lip balm from the servants of the Zenin estate but their mother had taken it from them and replaced it with the scentless, usual ones Naoki had been using. Yukina had thrown it into the lake, saying that sons had no need for such frivolities.

That had started a witch hunt for ‘inappropriate’ items and Naoya had screamed at Naoki when Yukina had thrown away his eyeliner.

Naoki reached up and lightly touched their lips, wondering what they would look like painted the severe red of their mother’s own lips. Or perhaps something softer, a pretty nude shade that was becoming more popular in fashion magazines these days.

Naoki scowled, turning away from the mirror. This is why they didn’t like staring at the mirrors for so long, lest they start contemplating things. Useless things that were unbefitting the Zenin heir. And then they would wallow, and when they wallowed they would have to summon Mochi or Moka of the Divine Dogs, to run their hands through the shadowy creatures’ pristine fur.

Naoki pulled on the navy blue jacket of their uniform, they’d requested a loser collar because the standard one pressing against the skin of their neck made them uncomfortable. They tucked the jacket into their trousers, lightly tugging so it would be looser on the stomach. They also put the ends of their trousers into their combat boots, no use having anything loose that a curse might pull on a bad day.

Finally, they gathered their long, dark hair and tied it into a ponytail. Loose hair was a liability, but their mother had always said they had lovely hair and it pleased them to make their mother happy so they’d learn to fight around it.

Naoki headed to their assigned classroom, sliding the door open to Gojo Satoru all up Getou Suguru’s personal space, their noses nearly brushing. Getou was looking at the Six Eyes as if he was the shittiest human being on the planet (which Naoki would say was accurate, but Uncle Ogi existed), while the Six Eyes looked at him like he was an indecipherable puzzle. There was a girl sitting cross-legged on one of the desks, her phone was out and from the flashes, she was taking a few incriminating photos while sucking a lollipop.

Getou turned to look at her. “Zenin -”

“Wrong classroom.” Naoki slid the door shut with a decisive thud.

Naoki checked their phone: 7.53. They’d come back at 7.59 to minimize human contact, since their homeroom teacher was going to be there at 8.00.

That meant six minutes to bleach whatever the fuck was that out of their mind.

“Naoki ~”

Somebody kill me, Naoki begged. Technically, Naoki could start a murder-suicide with Six Eyes right then and there, but they settled for jumping out the nearest open window.

“Hey, why are you running?!” Six Eyes whined, but Naoki didn’t look back and they certainly didn’t stop.

The sound of footsteps slapping on the pavement echoed and Naoki increased their speed. Why the fuck is he chasing me?!

“Yo, Zenin!”

Another set of footsteps joined them. “Zenin-san, where are you going?” Getou’s smooth voice called out.

“Hey, are we seriously running on the first day?” a lazy, feminine drawl spoke out.

WHAT THE FUCK?!

Naoki wanted to sob, but that was unmanly and Zenins didn’t cry. They certainly didn’t cry because the Six Eyes was chasing them. Judging from his laughter, he was certainly having fun since he could’ve just used Limitless to stop them and even Getou could probably unleash some curses and ensnare them.

They flipped their phone open - 7.57.

Naoki dove into the shadow of a tree, taking refuge in the inky darkness where everything sounded as if it was beneath water.

“Where did he go?” Getou’s worried voice came.

“Tch, went inside the shadows like a coward.” Six Eyes scoffed.

“Well, you were chasing them like some sort of axe murderer.” Ieiri, Naoki recalled the girl’s name.

Despite the burn at the coward accusation from Six Eyes, they did have a classroom to get to. Naoki followed the thread of shadows all interconnected in this shadow realm, until they finally found one of the teacher’s desk in the classroom and pulled. Emerging from the shadows as if they had gone for a little swim, they were met with the twitching gaze of their sensei. And he did not look pleased.

He had close-cropped dark hair in a buzzcut, with an interconnected beard and mustache, and he wore the typical Jujutsu High staff uniform. The only weird thing was the lion doll perched on his shoulder, was that Kon from Bleach?

“Where are your classmates? You were told to be here by 8, it’s 8.01.”

“I don’t know.”

The man scrutinized them for a moment, before shaking their head. “Sit down,” he snapped.

Naoki knew better than to agitate a pissed off teacher, so they settled on the desk right in front of the teacher’s desk.

Not a moment later, the door to the classroom slid open to reveal a winded Six Eyes (though Naoki was sure the boy was exaggerating), a perfectly composed Getou (what the fuck was up with the fashion disaster that was those pants?), and a relaxed Ieiri.

“You’re late!” the sensei barked.

Six Eyes rolled his bright blue eyes, hidden behind a pair of pitch black shades. “We wouldn’t have been if Zenin over there didn’t run away like an absolute lunatic.”

“I can’t help it, your face is too atrocious to look at. Anyone would run away screaming.” Naoki scowled, resisting the urge to throw Six Eyes out the window. He would probably be fine, annoyingly, Infinity protecting him from the sharp shards of glass which would’ve carved his pretty face up like a pumpkin.

“Shut it, all of you - sit down!”

Getou took the seat beside Naoki and Six Eyes took the seat on Getou’s otherside, Ieiri had an amused smile on her face as she took the seat next to Naoki. Six Eyes, Getou, Naoki, and Ieiri were lined up before the sensei like pigs for slaughter.

“My name is Yaga Masamichi and from today onwards, I’ll be your homeroom teacher,” the sensei began bluntly. “I don’t have any rules except that I expect you all to be upstanding Jujutsu sorcerers. There will be no using family influence -” he stared at Naoki and Six Eyes at this, “- no superficial airs of superiority -” he glared at Six Eyes, who stuck out his tongue, “- no weird shadow manipulation during theoretical class,” Naoki met his stare head-on, “above all, you are all equal here. You are students at Tokyo Jujutsu High first and foremost.”

“‘Equal’?” Six Eyes seemed to find the whole thing funny. “Sure, if you wanna lie to yourself.”

Ripoff-Kon launched itself at Six Eyes. As expected, it was stopped by Infinity.

Yaga-sensei stepped in front of Six Eyes. “Listen here, Gojo — in my eyes, you are just the same as the person sitting next to you. You are a sorcerer-in training and that is how you will be treated, regardless of Grade and Cursed Technique.”

After dropping that bombshell on Six Eyes, Naoki wanted to cackle because finally! A person who wasn't going to be eating out of Six Eyes’ hand. Even as kids, Six Eyes thought that he could bat his pretty blue eyes and the world would keel over for him simply because he was born with a technique which had not been seen in 400 years. Naoki had spent most of their childhood attempting to disillusion him of that idea. It seemed that they were finally going to get some help.

Yaga-sensei turned on his heels, Ripoff-Kon back on his shoulder. “Before we begin, I want to ask you all… why do you want to become a sorcerer?” he put his hand behind his back like a military sergeant.

“What kind of stupid ass question is that?” Six Eyes, who liked the sound of his own voice, asked derisively.

Naoki hated to admit it, but Six Eyes had a point. For Six Eyes and Naoki, there was never a choice because they had been born with the most coveted techniques of their respective clan. The Gojo clan had some civilian branch members, but the Zenin clan? If you weren't a sorcerer, you were basically trash.

Even Naoki's trashy elder half-brother Nobuhiko, who didn't have an innate technique and was the family disappointment, was a sorcerer working in the Kukuru Unit. And Yukina had ensured that Naoki and Naoya were the furthest thing from disappointments when it came to sorcery.

“You might think it's stupid, but that's probably because you were never given a choice to be anything else,” Yaga-sensei’s tone was stern, but as he looked at Naoki and Six Eyes, there was something that was not unkind in his stare.

Naoki hated it. They wanted to gouge out Yaga-sensei's eyes, crush it and serve it as a jam to their mother.

“So?” Six Eyes raised a brow, leaning back on his chair, “it's not like we hate it.”

Did Naoki hate it? They wondered. Sorcery was in their blood, they lived and breathed jujutsu.

Yaga-sensei held Six Eyes’ gaze for a moment, but he then turned towards Getou. “Why do you want to be a sorcerer?”

Naoki thought that Getou and Ieiri were the right targets for such a question, especially Getou who had come from a regular, non-sorcerer family. He had an extremely useful technique, but when he was scouted he could've said no thanks, and returned to his life as a non-sorcerer.

“I want to help those weaker than me,” Getou said firmly, “I was gifted with this power and because of that I have a duty to help those who can't do the things I can.”

Naoki thought of Aunt Saki, who their mother mocked as weak, but who hid her bruises with makeup each day until all that was left was porcelain skin. Yet she lifted her chin and went about her day as if nothing happened. Naoki didn't agree with their mother, that was not weak, there was strength in her endurance. They thought of Aunt Saki's daughters, so unwanted and so unloved, but Maki who was thought of as trash by the clan, still dared to want for more, to demand training from men who would rather see her dead. And Mai, Mai just took it all like her mother and still lived each and every day.

In terms of power, they were weaker than Yukina, but Naoki thought that their aunt and her girls had a strength to them that Yukina didn't possess.

“What do you consider weak?” Naoki couldn't help but ask, Yaga-sensei's gaze darted towards them.

“Well, those who don't have the ability to protect themselves, the people who can't even see curses — or maybe even a sorcerer, faced with a stronger curse than them.” Getou's voice was steady, convinced in his own convictions.

“I'm not saying you're wrong, but have you ever considered that maybe… they’re already strong for simply enduring,” said Naoki, “most sorcerers die before they hit 30 and it's usually because of an ill-fated pair up with a curse that's beyond their ability. In terms of power, they are objectively weaker than the curse and that's probably the reason they're killed, other conditions aside. But you make it sound like these people, sorcerers and non-sorcerers, they just laid down and died as if they didn't even try to live. As if they're just waiting for a hero to come and save them, when most of the time they live with the thought that no one is going to.”

“I'm not saying that they just laid down and died. But surely you'd understand that there's a disparity of strength among sorcerers and to ensure survival, the stronger should protect the weak.”

“And who are you to decide who is the weak in this case, or the strong?” Naoki couldn't help the frustration lacing their voice.

They believed that Getou had genuinely good intentions, but Naoki couldn't help the flicker of annoyance that reverberated in them because of his opinion. It was as if he was a benevolent god, taking pity on the poor mortals. That string of condescension annoyed Naoki more than anything else.

There was a rigidness to Getou’s face that wasn't there before, but before the boy could say anything, Yaga-sensei interrupted him.

“And you, why do you want to become a sorcerer?”

Why did they want to become a sorcerer?

‘Because it was expected of me.’

‘Because I'm from a clan of sorcerers who think that people who aren't sorcerers are nothing.’

‘Because I have the Ten Shadows.’

Yaga-sensei's face told Naoki that those flimsy answers they'd come up with weren't what he was looking for. Naoki thought of Yukina pushing them and Naoya to the brink, their mother's controlling tendencies, the possession of their father's hand on their shoulder whenever he bragged about them, what was it all for? Why did Naoki slave away each day perfecting martial arts, exorcising shikigami after shikigami and dreading the final one? What did mastery of their technique mean?

“Power,” they answered, “I want to become a sorcerer because I want power.”

They weren't sure why exactly they wanted to become a sorcerer, but they knew that they were selfish unlike Getou, nor were they so assured of their own greatness like the Six Eyes. But power meant they could dress and act as they wished without their mother breathing down their neck, power meant that Uncle Ogi would have to incline his head towards them, power meant the ability to walk away from it all like Toji did if they wanted.

Yaga-sensei didn't seem annoyed with their answer nor did he seem pleased. His face was unreadable, not a hint of emotion visible within his eyes. He nodded and then turned to Ieiri.

The girl with brown hair cut into a bob and matching brown eyes smiled. “Everyone has such deep answers,” there was a hint of amusement in her voice, “but really, I just want some money for cigarettes and booze. Guess I can help people along the way.”

Yaga-sensei then stepped away from them. “I’m going to assess you, all of you.”

Getou’s brows furrowed. “Didn’t we already do assessments to get our grades?”

“You did,” Yaga-sensei crossed his arms, “this assessment is to see if you’re actually crazy enough to be sorcerers.”