Jujutsu Kaisen: I Have A Gardevoir

The morning routine was predictable—morning exercises as usual, the inevitable sparring matches, and as always, Gardevoir would step in and clear the scene when things got too heated.

There was no helping it. Close combat tended to make everyone's blood boil, and when that happened, it was Gardevoir's job to use her psychic powers to calm everyone down. Every time this happened, Pancham, the little troublemaker, would get even more riled up, always looking to cause chaos. If you didn't discipline him every few days, he'd be climbing the walls.

But the mischievous little guy had gotten smarter. Whenever Akira shot him a glare, Pancham would immediately dive into Hayami's arms, leaving Akira reluctant to pull him out and give him the scolding he deserved.

Akira sighed and decided to change the subject. "The transfer student is supposed to arrive today, right?"

"Yeah, I think so," Panda responded, nodding. "I heard he stuffed four classmates into lockers."

"Did he kill them?" Maki asked bluntly, not caring in the slightest.

"No, just severely injured them, I think."

"Oh. If he's too arrogant, we'll teach him a lesson."

"Dried bonito," Inumaki added in his typical cryptic manner. Unlike Maki's rough nature, Inumaki was far more gentle and kind-hearted.

"Don't be like that, Maki," Hayami said gently. "I've met the child before. He's a good kid."

"A good kid?" Maki glanced at Akira, then back at herself. Everyone seemed like a "good kid" in Hayami's eyes, but Maki wasn't so sure.

At Jujutsu High, aside from Gardevoir, maybe Inumaki could pass as a good kid by conventional standards. But the rest of them? Definitely not. Who'd call someone a good kid when they're always figuring out how to kill their enemies?

"Good or bad, we'll see soon enough," Akira muttered as he flipped himself up from the ground. "Just to be sure, Mom, you're not the one going to pick him up, right?"

"No, recruitment is always handled by Gojo-sensei," Hayami replied, shaking her head.

Hearing this, Akira immediately laid back down. "Alright, wake me up at nine. I stayed up late last night thinking about things."

"What about your first class? Skipping it?"

"Mom, you know Gojo-sensei never shows up on time. We can't start class without him. Might as well sleep in a bit. Yawn~"

"You've got a point. I'll nap too," Maki said, following Akira's lead.

"Hey, little bro," Panda whispered to Pancham as he saw the two lying down, "let's go for a stroll in the woods. Inumaki, you too."

"Salmon," Inumaki agreed, nodding.

Hayami's eyelid twitched. Was this how students were supposed to behave? Back in her day, she was much more disciplined as a student!

"Everyone, get back here!" Hayami scolded. "This transfer student isn't just any ordinary kid. Gojo-sensei won't be late today—Gardevoir, why are you encouraging them?"

It turned out that Gardevoir had noticed that Akira didn't have a comfortable pillow, so she had moved his head onto her lap and summoned two blankets, covering both him and Maki.

It was sweet, but in Hayami's eyes, it was like adding fuel to the fire, enabling their laziness.

"No, I can't let these students continue acting like this," Hayami muttered to herself. "It's my duty to correct the school's atmosphere!"

Unaware that she was comparing Tokyo Jujutsu High to Kyoto Jujutsu High, Hayami felt a surge of responsibility. The two schools had completely different vibes—Kyoto being traditional due to the Zenin and Kamo families, while Tokyo, led by Yaga Masamichi and Gojo Satoru, was more liberal. It was like the difference between Japan's Kanto and Kansai regions. Cultural divides were common everywhere.

Still, Akira decided to get up. When Hayami was being this persistent, he couldn't just ignore her. Besides, it wasn't worth the fight.

As for Gojo...

"Uh, Hayami-sensei, why are you looking at me like that?" Gojo asked, scratching his head.

Even someone as carefree as Gojo could sense that something was off. Hayami, the nicest person in the school, glaring at him meant something serious was going on.

"You're thirty minutes late," Hayami said, her words sharp.

"That's it?" Gojo asked, confused. Being late wasn't unusual for him, so why was it a big deal now? He hadn't arrived on time for anything—except battles, of course.

"I promised the students you wouldn't be late today because we have an important transfer student arriving."

Hayami's frustration was palpable. Where was her authority now? She had barely any left to begin with, and this was eroding it further!

Gojo quickly realized how serious this was. "Sorry, but it really wasn't my fault this time. Yuta... well, he was having another episode of school anxiety. I barely managed to calm him down and convince him to come, so can you guys please wake up and welcome the new student?"

Akira: "ZZZ…"

Maki: "ZZZ…"

Yep, they were both fast asleep, with one lying on either of Gardevoir's shoulders.

Pancham: "Ora ora ora…"

Panda: "Muda muda muda…"

The two were playing a fist-punching game, while Inumaki held up two panda-shaped cards, raising one depending on who won each round.

Under Panda's guidance, Pancham had learned new sounds to add to his vocabulary. Not a single person gave Gojo any face.

This should have been the kind of behavior that Hayami couldn't stand, but after losing all authority, she chose to give up. She found a corner and stood there quietly, a silent observer.

Seeing no hope, Gojo sighed and called out loudly, "Come on in."

The door slid open, revealing a boy who was just under 170 cm tall, wearing a white coat. Everything about him screamed "weak"—his posture, his expression—it was as if he had a sign that said, "I'm an easy target."

But this seemingly timid boy caused Maki to jolt awake, grab her weapon, and thrust it into the blackboard right next to his neck, less than a centimeter away from slicing him.

At the same time, Panda raised his fists, and Inumaki lowered his collar, standing on either side of Maki.

Only then did the boy stammer out his introduction. "I-I'm Okkotsu Yuta, please take care of me."

Faced with such a terrifying welcome, any normal person would have crumbled, and Yuta almost did, his knees shaking beneath him.

Maki glared at Gojo and said bluntly, "Hey, you're cursed, aren't you? This is a place to learn about curses, so what's a cursed guy like you doing here?"

"Maybe even Yuta himself doesn't know why he's here," Akira said calmly as he slowly opened his eyes. He affectionately adjusted Gardevoir's clothes and hair, while everyone else seemed to move as one family unit—except for them.

"It's because Gojo-sensei is too lazy, so lazy he didn't even bother explaining."

"Bingo! That's why you're my favorite assistant—you really get me," Gojo replied shamelessly. "Now then, could you do me a favor and explain it to everyone? Keep it short, okay?"

"Sure," Akira replied, stretching with a yawn. Amidst the customary glares aimed at Gojo, Akira explained, "Did you know? In Japan, over ten thousand people go missing or die mysteriously every year. Only a small portion of those are accidents. Most are caused by 'curses'—the negative emotions that overflow from people. Some of these incidents are even caused by curse users. Only a curse can defeat another curse. That's why we're here, at the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, to learn how to exorcise them."

Yuta, still reeling from the shock, couldn't say a word, but his expression screamed, Why didn't anyone tell me this earlier?

"Oh, and one more thing. Maki, put your glasses on. The curse attached to Yuta is no ordinary one."

No sooner had Akira said this than an enraged voice echoed through the room. "Don't bully Yuta!"

In an instant, a pressure as dark as a black swamp filled the air, centered around a pair of ghostly white hands. With a simple squeeze, the hands twisted the weapon embedded in the blackboard into a pretzel.

Akira heard a familiar notification at that very moment: [Pokemon Meme detected—]