Chapter 19

Takizawa Sei, possessing a keen sense of self-awareness, remained at the college, staying securely under the protection of Gojo Satoru’s sphere of influence.

Taking advantage of the time while Gojo was away arguing with the higher-ups, Takizawa quickly integrated himself with the students.

The girl who had once given him a half-princess carry was named Maki Zenin. The first thing she said to him upon their formal meeting was, "You look truly incredible right now. I am struggling to suppress the urge to attack you after my senses warned me of danger."

The white-haired cursed speech user was Toge Inumaki. Having recovered, he possessed clear, bright eyes that Takizawa particularly adored, as he felt they defined the young man’s entire temperament. Takizawa said bluntly, "Your eyes are beautiful; you look handsome even with the lower half of your face covered."

"Ah..." Yuta Okkotsu, sitting nearby, let out a short, clipped syllable. "He’ll make a scene if he hears that."

Who this "he" referred to went without saying.

Takizawa waved a hand. "It’s fine, plenty of people praise him."

According to Yuta, he had only joined the college a few days prior, and his welcoming gift from his peers had been them pointing their weapons at him.

"They say you and I are very much alike," Yuta said quietly, his gaze fixed on Takizawa with a somber intensity. "But I don't see it."

"What's wrong with that?"

"I thought the ominous aura you occasionally exude was because you were very strong."

"Isn't that practically the same thing?"

Takizawa sat on the playground with them. The weather was exceptionally fine today; the relentless rain from the previous days had finally ceased. The young man stroked the head of the large stuffed panda, basking in the sun with a gentle expression while surrounded by the attentive group.

"So, are you and Gojo-sensei..." asked Panda, the only cursed corpse among the students, "...you know, like that?"

Takizawa answered with resolute certainty, "Yes, we are best friends."

His voice carried a hint of subtle pride. Just as Gojo was happy to flaunt their relationship, Takizawa enjoyed it just as much. However, the students let out a collective sigh, whispering to one another right in front of him, "...That’s not the version we heard."

"What’s different about it?" Takizawa blinked, curious. "What are you talking about?"

Maki Zenin looked at Yuta Okkotsu, then back at Takizawa, who wore a blank, innocent expression. Under the fiery, urging gazes of her companions, she slowly, deliberately raised her hands and pressed her index fingers together. "We thought you were... in that kind of relationship."

"..."

...Huh?

Takizawa looked bewildered. "Why?"

"Because your dynamic with him is so similar," Maki said, pointing at Yuta. The black-haired boy shrank back, seemingly having been teased about this quite a bit over the last two days. "Plus, Yuta said you live together, sleep in the same bed, and even blow each other kisses when saying goodbye."

Takizawa felt a fresh wave of goosebumps. "Given his personality, do you guys really think he has any sense of boundaries?"

Gojo surely hadn't announced his resurrection to the students... but his identity seemed to have been exposed, and Gojo was currently maneuvering through the higher-ups for his sake. Takizawa found himself momentarily unsure if he was currently counted among the living or the dead.

"Is that so..."

Maki gazed silently at his face. "Whatever the relationship is, we’ll find out eventually. But right now, there’s something else we want to know..."

Following her drawn-out tone, her classmates stood up and gathered around her. Even Yuta was pulled into the circle. They struck the pose of people eager for gossip, asking with full spirit, "—Gojo-sensei’s secrets!"

Takizawa was stunned for a moment, then burst into a hearty laugh. "Hahahaha... Satoru’s secrets? So you want to hear about his childhood? Is that it? He doesn't talk to you about it much?"

"Exactly, he's super mysterious," Panda complained. "Not only mysterious, but also full of himself!"

"Salmon."

Yuta awkwardly brushed the hair at the back of his head. He hadn't yet grown accustomed to his peers, but since the topic concerned Takizawa, his curiosity was strong enough to keep him seated there, watching Takizawa with eyes full of unspoken inquiry.

"Hmm, let me think... what can I tell you all."

Takizawa looked up at the blue sky, his thoughts drifting to the distant past. An expression of nostalgia crept onto his face, his gaze turning far-off. "If I start from the very beginning... I was his personal attendant... Ah, do you know that? In my era—well, a few years ago—almost everyone knew. People might not have been able to recall my name, but they would instantly think, 'Ah, it’s that someone-or-other by Gojo Satoru’s side...'"

Takizawa and Gojo had been inseparable to that extent.

"Satoru was a genius rarely seen in a century. At your age, he could already fight against Special Grade curses. He was pampered and pursued by crowds from a young age, so he was incredibly arrogant and dismissive of everyone."

"Yeah, we noticed," Maki chimed in. "He still seems incredibly arrogant and dismissive."

"Haha, that’s true, but he had the capital to be that arrogant," Takizawa sighed. "Before he joined the college, he told me that speaking within his clan felt suffocating—like discussing the changing seasons with a pile of rotting wood that would never sprout or bloom, or trying to stir clear water out of a stagnant swamp. It seemed like everyone respected him and feared him, but that was only due to his bloodline, his talent, and his unshakable power, not because of any actual agency."

Their ideologies were cold and antiquated; their methods were selfish and ruthless.

Yuta wore the expression of someone encountering a real-life version of a "dark, power-struggling mansion drama." He looked thoughtful and faintly intrigued, noticing that his peers didn't react much, seemingly having heard of such things before. "Rotting wood? A swamp? What was it like specifically?"

"For example, as long as a mission was completed, anything could be sacrificed," Takizawa said with a faint smile. "It was a rigid, inhumane hierarchy that ignored human personality. Compared to that, ordinary people seem to have far more choices and possibilities."

Takizawa folded his hands together to mimic a flower bud, then opened his fingers with a nimble, vivid motion to show them blooming. He used a witty analogy: "You can think of Satoru as a giant snow lotus on a heavenly mountain."

"Pfft!"

The students erupted into laughter at Takizawa’s words.

Yuta felt like something was off. He stared intently at Takizawa’s bright, relaxed face and asked in a low voice, "If it was a place like that, then how did you survive...?"

Takizawa’s laughter paused, then he raised his eyebrows. "Me? I spent every day telling them their heads were filled with nothing but mud."

He sat on the steps in a relaxed posture, knees drawn up, one hand propping up his chin. "Though, that’s what I say now~ but at first, it wasn't easy. But it didn't matter, because Satoru was there to protect me."

His tone was incredibly light, as if that period hadn't cast any shadow over him at all.

Maki lowered her eyelids, the expression behind her glasses becoming hazy and indistinct. She realized that Takizawa was somewhat frightening—not in the literal sense, but in his character, a state of being she had yet to reach. The open, cheerful smile he wore when discussing the past carried, for a split second, a cold, detached, non-human quality.

That hellish place...

Having heard stories from her own clan members since she was small, Maki was not entirely ignorant of Takizawa. Even now, the sorcerer families occasionally mentioned his name.

That hellish place...

How could he be so devoted to the beneficiary of that system, ignoring every single attempt at sowing discord?

***

Takizawa indeed had a difficult time in the early stages of his missions.

The malice of the elders was usually intangible yet heavy. Their gazes carried disdain and contempt, and their tone of command made it seem as if Takizawa were a machine that could cease functioning at their whim—which, in reality, was not far from the truth. Takizawa often risked his life to fulfill their demands.

By comparison, the bullying from the children felt less stifling, because Takizawa could strike back immediately.

In such an environment, Takizawa still had to carry out his missions, trying his best not to let these things affect the person he was accompanying.

He once masked his injuries, pretending in front of Gojo that nothing had happened. Those moments when they sat on the corridor, legs dangling as they ate snacks, were Takizawa’s most peaceful times. There were no annoying brats nearby, and the maids would not be so blind as to disturb their master during his rest.

Takizawa would chat with Gojo about their shared daily life. Because their routines and schedules were highly synchronized—Takizawa was essentially tethered to him—he knew everything that happened around him. Gojo’s desire to share and confide only appeared and flourished when he was with Takizawa.

Once, they were so engrossed in conversation that both were incredibly excited. Gojo slapped Takizawa on the back, then pinned him to the corridor floor, forcing him to eat a sweet punishment for losing a bet.

Takizawa’s voice vanished from that slap, and after being thrown onto the hard, cold floor, he gasped in pain. He hissed, trying to plead for mercy, but when he looked up, he saw Gojo’s smile fading. Then, with a swift motion, Gojo ripped Takizawa’s shirt away.

Takizawa: "...？！!"

The bruises on his back were already black and purple, looking at their most terrifying. Under Gojo’s completely cold gaze, Takizawa covered his eyes in self-imposed seclusion.

"Who did this?"

At that time, Takizawa didn't feel they were that close yet; he felt he had spent a long time grinding away before entering Gojo’s inner circle. "Ambushed by the Gojo branch kids. One of them kicked me."

Then, before he could stand up, a few more brats swarmed him and stomped on him relentlessly.

They couldn't beat Takizawa in a fair fight, so after completing this quick, short-lived ambush, they ran off without looking back.

Hearing this, Gojo silently took off his coat, draped it over Takizawa’s shoulders, and walked away in his tight training gear.

That day, the Six Eyes were truly furious. He beat up everyone who had given Takizawa trouble. Takizawa had initially tried to stop him in a panic, but later he just clapped and cheered: "One against ten! Satoru is amazing!"

Gojo didn't stop at beating them; he even berated their fathers. To summarize his words: "He is my person!" "Get lost!"

Since then, Gojo had become extremely sensitive to whether Takizawa was being treated unfairly.

Unreasonable missions, arrangements made without regard for his feelings, or disrespectful remarks—all were triggers for Gojo.

He would go, time and again, tirelessly, to those unpleasant rooms to maneuver against those unpleasant people, just as he was doing now—

Takizawa heard the approaching footsteps behind him and turned his head.

The white-haired young man was walking toward him.

Step by step, with a stature as firm as it had always been.

He waved a greeting to the students, then stood in front of Takizawa with his hands in his pockets, leaning down with a triumphant smirk. "I've secured your protection!"