"Know what I really don't like?" Shoko addressed me, crossing her arms beneath her chest and giving me a stern look.
Shoko Ieiri is a beautiful woman with long chestnut hair and brown eyes, the color of which reminded me of iron just heated in the forge and then thrown into cold water. Such a color is often referred to as volcanic, galvanic, or tempered. With a mole under her right eye and a mature charm, this woman could have topped my list, but her perpetually tired gaze and mundane way of thinking relegated her to nothing more than a friend in my eyes.
"Night shifts?" I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms, and surveyed the morgue where we, along with Shoko, Kiyotaka, and Yuji, were.
"Exactly. What time is it now?" Shoko raised an eyebrow.
I quizzically looked at Kiyotaka, as I don't wear a watch, carry a phone, or anything else that could show the time during missions… The "Night Parade of One Hundred Demons" being an exception.
"Eleven in the evening," Kiyotaka replied, glancing at his wristwatch.
Hearing that, Shoko and I stared at each other. No matter how much time passed, I could never quite understand her. Why would someone willingly spend decades staring at corpses as a significant part of their job? If it were just a regular job or the famed desire to save the innocent, then Shoko doesn't just have issues—her brain is wired entirely differently.
"Don't look at me like I'm some rare animal," the woman remarked, clearly reading my thoughts!
"In what way?" I looked at Shoko, puzzled.
"In a judging, uncomprehending way," she responded tersely.
"You always give me those kinds of looks," I defended myself against her accusation.
"I can do that," Shoko simply shrugged, teasing me.
"Umm, are they in a feud?" Yuji's voice came from the side, addressing Kiyotaka.
"No," Kiyotaka replied with a nervous chuckle and a shake of his head. "They just have a special kind of relationship…"
"Ooo... Still don't get it," Yuji shook his head.
"Honestly, me neither," Kiyotaka smiled. "But don't worry. As strange as it sounds, they have quite mature relationships, so it's unlikely that any discontent with each other will come between them."
"Good morning!" suddenly Satoru appeared at the door.
"It's evening," Shoko replied, giving her former classmate a skeptical look.
"Damn, who told you that?" the white-haired man blurted out before quickly changing the subject, as he likes to do. "And here's our 'dead' freshman. How's the afterlife treating you?"
"Cold, to be honest," Yuji remarked, noticing that he was still wrapped in a regular sheet used to cover corpses.
"Why didn't you give him clothes?" Satoru questioned, looking at me.
"It's funny," I simply replied.
"I agree," Shoko nodded.
"Agreed," Satoru nodded as well.
In response, Yuji just wrapped himself tighter in the sheet and gave us a dissatisfied look.
"Ha... What a hassle," Satoru grumbled, sitting at the pathologist's table.
"My apologies," Kiyotaka suddenly bowed deeply. "It was my mistake, and if Sukehiro hadn't intervened in time, I'm afraid Yuji might have been dead in the worst-case scenario. I'm so sorry!"
"Sending a freshman to save people who might already be dead, and then making them fight a Special Grade Curse," Satoru structured all the information he had. "I did the impossible, postponed Yuji's execution, and you decide to get rid of him in my absence. Is that what you're apologizing for? Or is there something else I don't know about?"
"I'm sorry," Kiyotaka trembled, still not rising from his bow. "I didn't notice the trap, thereby putting unprepared Sorcerers in mortal danger."
"Lack of information, a well-timed moment... Damn! It will be problematic to find out who exactly orchestrated this," Satoru paused for a few seconds before words burst out of him with a fury I had never seen in him before. "Or maybe... I should just kill all those bastards on the Board?"
"You're rarely seen angry," Shoko interjected into the conversation. "Did you get that attached to the kid?"
"Well, unlike Sukehiro, I'm a nice guy who cares about his students," Satoru replied.
"A nice guy who, out of his own stupidity, left his favorite students unattended?" I snorted in response. "In that case, it's better to be bad."
"Don't be so hard on Ichiji," Shoko ignored my words and, using a diminutive form of Kiyotaka's surname, addressed Satoru. "It's quite difficult to be a bridge between the top and us, especially with you around."
"I couldn't care less," Satoru replied impassively, crossing his arms over his chest. "And as for you... Hm! Everyone agrees it's better to be a dumb Satoru Gojo than a bad Sukehiro Yami."
"What a childish excuse! You might as well say 'I know you are, but what am I?'" I stared blankly at the masked nuisance.
A solemn silence fell over the morgue for a short while.
"So, I have a bad temper, don't I?" Satoru chuckled, leaning against the wall.
"We know," Kiyotaka nodded.
"I'm here repenting, and you agree?" Satoru turned to the man. "Seriously, I'll slap you later, Ichiji."
"Why did you become a teacher then?" Yuji asked the white-haired man.
"Damn good question, Yuji," Satoru snapped his fingers. "It's because I have a dream. As you've already experienced firsthand, the Sorcerer Council is the real evil in the world of sorcery. Conservative idiots, neurotics, brazen bastards, corrupt scum, and cowards... In short, a genuine circus of freaks. I want to destroy this damn system."
"But you're too good to just kill everyone," Yuji smiled.
"No, just smart enough," I shook my head.
"For me, indeed, it would be easy to kill everyone higher up. But you kill one, and someone else takes their place... And anyone who kills a superior can't win the support and trust of the rest," Satoru explained. "That's why I chose to teach. To raise strong and educated comrades."
"Your dream is much grander than mine," Yuji chuckled awkwardly. "If I can help in any way, just let me know!"
At that moment, Satoru looked at me, and I remembered our last serious conversation.
"I don't think so," Satoru smiled at his student. "A dream is such that it cannot be measured."
I just shook my head. Since when did he start speaking such wise phrases? However, that thought vanished as quickly as it came, as doubts have plagued me since the battle with Sukuna. Now, with that bastard no longer having a contract to take over Yuji's body for a minute, what will he do next? Uncertainty... It simultaneously induced fear and thrill. Damn contradictory.
Should I have saved Yuji? If the fear of the unknown dominates me, then the meaning of my rebirth is simply in aimless existence, as it was in the first life. And if saving Yuji ultimately ruins everything, now with the factor of Sukuna, which can interfere in all this? In that case, was it all in vain? Ha... Complicated.
"Sukehiro, is something wrong?" Shoko addressed me, ignoring my previous words.
"Sukuna, numerous talented and strong Sorcerers, an increase in the birth of Curses... Does it remind you of anything?" I spoke out, looking at Yuji.
"The Golden Age of Sorcery..." Shoko replied.
"If Satoru's appearance changed the world so much, what will happen when the 'Greatest Evil of the Sorcerer World' awakens?"
"Aren't you overestimating him?" Satoru smirked.
"An expansion of the Territory that defies common sense, use of Techniques almost immediately after the Territory is opened... And all this with just two fingers. What happens when we collect all the fingers?" I stared at the "Strongest".
"What was so special about his Territory?" asked Satoru.
"It was strange... Instead of creating a separate space using a barrier, it was as if he projected the Territory onto the air," I said, still puzzled by Sukuna's truly divine technique when I first saw it.
"It's like an artist who paints not on a canvas, but on the air itself," Satoru muttered.
"Also," I suddenly thought of something. "I think his fingers are containers of Cursed energy, not Technique. Which means, he currently has only ten percent of his true volume of Cursed energy. Comparatively, I'm at a level six, you're around eight, and Yuta's at ten."
"Old creature," the "Strongest" chuckled.
"But this is irrelevant considering his Cursed Technique," I looked at Satoru. "The slicing attacks he released cut through concrete and iron like a hot knife through butter, but the scariest part is that these 'attacks' are invisible."
"But you saw them," Satoru shrugged.
"They're not made of Cursed energy," I noted.
"As expected of the King of Curses," Satoru wasn't surprised by this information.
"Ha... I now understand how hard it sometimes is for those around us to communicate," I shook my head and turned to Shoko. "I've done my part. Can I go now?"
"Yes, yes, go and leave all the work to my fragile shoulders," Shoko snorted irritably.
"How about I buy you a drink next time?" I asked, trying to appease her anger.
"You would have done that anyway, wouldn't you, Sukehiro?" Shoko smirked.
"Of course," I smiled back at her.
◊◊◊
"You know, I was really lucky to find that brat," Satoru smiled as he walked side by side with Shoko.
"He's much more responsible than you," Shoko nodded, agreeing with what Satoru hadn't said.
"And much more self-aware," the white-haired man chuckled.
"Aren't you all like that?" Shoko asked, referring to the Special Grade Sorcerers.
"He reminds me of Geto," Satoru smiled.
"Not in the slightest," Shoko shook her head negatively.
"Their dreams are similar, but I think Sukehiro is insane enough to choose a much more difficult path to realize it," Satoru explained.
"That's not reassuring," Shoko yawned.
"No," Satoru shook his head. "But I'm glad someone understood Geto."