This Guy’s Called Little Handsome

The next day, at Tokyo Jujutsu High School.

“Sensei…” Yuji Itadori cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone. “Gojo-sensei!”

He pointed at the phone flashing nonstop on the desk, kindly reminding him, “Your phone’s ringing, ya know.”

Weird.

If he was deliberately ignoring it, Gojo-sensei wouldn’t leave it off silent.

As if just noticing the buzzing, Gojo Satoru casually flipped the phone over. “Still got the mind to notice stuff like that…” He faked a pout. “Is my class that boring, Yuji?”

Yuji Itadori: “…”

You know it, huh.

What kinda teacher plays slideshows and makes them take turns reading cringey, over-the-top chuuni lines one after another?!

Yuji Itadori shut his eyes, unable to see a future for Jujutsu High.

He’d thought coming to Jujutsu High would mean daily routines of physical training or simple missions… but after finishing the paperwork, he found out that every Monday to Friday, unless something came up, they had to pick a day for Gojo-sensei’s cringe endurance class!

According to Gojo-sensei, it was to toughen their mental resilience.

…Was it really not just his weird sense of fun?!

“You’re not gonna check it? Could be something urgent,” Yuji Itadori said, grasping at straws.

Megumi was done with his page, and it’d be his turn soon. He really didn’t wanna read!

Stuff like “I’ve never known defeat, for I am the king,” or “Shatter, reality! Crush, spirit! Banishment this world!” and even “I am the prince, so kneel, you foolish commoners”…

Megumi reading that stuff with his deadpan face…

He could read it, but Yuji Itadori could barely stand to listen.

Megumi seemed like he’d already gotten used to reciting this nonsense.

No way—was he gonna end up used to it too someday?

Their new classmate Nobara Kugisaki had already smartly brought noise-canceling earphones.

Once Yuji Itadori finished, it’d be her turn.

Equal treatment—no one was getting out of this.

“Alright.” Gojo Satoru pretended to think it over.

Just as Yuji Itadori lit up, thinking he’d agree, he heard him cheerfully say, “I’ll check my messages first. Megumi, stop reading—it’s Yuji’s turn!”

Yuji Itadori: “…”

The devil’s whisper!

Left with no choice, he grudgingly stood up, stumbling through his page of the PPT. “Cigarettes smoked, c-countless, liquor chugged till I wanna puke…”

“Ninety-nine steps I took toward you, but you cut off my path…”

“All the passions of this mortal world! Only for you do I lose my mind, my soul, s-soul, soul…!”

Megumi Fushiguro: “…”

Why’s he getting more confident the more he reads?

He’s way too into it…

Nobara Kugisaki: “…”

No way, I’ve gotta read this brain-dead stuff later too?

Feels like I can see my whole life flashing before me.

With Yuji Itadori’s pained voice as background noise, Gojo Satoru strolled to a corner, leaning back a bit as he unlocked his phone.

No surprise—tons of messages from Lin Ge.

Reading them would show as “read,” so he’d been avoiding looking before.

His brows furrowed slightly, and Gojo Satoru tapped into their chat with a hint of disinterest.

A wall of texts.

From yesterday to today, a flood of messages every now and then.

No pattern at all.

Scrolling to the top, Gojo Satoru read through them one by one.

Lin Ge kept calling the hotel Cursed Spirit incident from the day before “last night.”

Based on what Yaga Masamichi said, Gojo Satoru figured he was probably in a place where time flowed differently from here.

A barrier? Or a special technique.

Or maybe… an entirely different power system.

He slowly got to the latest message.

“AA Desert Lone Wolf: A rat doesn’t know it’s stealing food—it just wants to survive. Just like I didn’t know I was bugging you—I just wanted to chat.”

“Born a rat person, I’m real sorry.”

Rat person?

Pfft.

Who talks about themselves like that?

But somehow, the heavy irritation weighing on his chest lightened a bit.

The screen flashed, and he clearly saw his own lips curve up in the reflection.

Quickly wiping away the smile, Gojo Satoru went back to his cool, neutral expression.

—

The phone pinged.

Lin Ge perked up instantly, swiping away the short video he was watching to dive into the messaging app.

“Strawberry Shortcake: Was in class just now.”

Lin Ge felt like he’d been granted a pardon.

Oh, that’s all? He was just in class!

He knew Strawberry Shortcake wouldn’t ignore him on purpose!

Almost forgot the guy’s a people’s teacher!

He hurriedly typed back: “Did I bother you then?”

He’d sent, like, 99 messages.

Gojo Satoru replied fast: “Nah.”

Lin Ge scratched his head.

Had Strawberry Shortcake turned into a convo-ender too?

After some hesitation, he sent Gojo Satoru a rolling cat emoji. “Did you see my earlier messages? Man, last night was wild… You guys must’ve gotten word about the Cursed Spirit showing up, right? How’d you handle it?”

This time, Gojo Satoru took a good ten seconds to reply: “Same as usual.”

Lin Ge: “…”

Confirmed—Strawberry Shortcake was definitely mad!

He flopped onto the bed in frustration, turning to Yamanbakiri Kunihiro, who was sorting papers at the desk. “Got a question for you.”

Closing the folder, Yamanbakiri Kunihiro looked back at the Saniwa sprawled like a dead fish, giving him a gentle smile. “What’s up?”

Lin Ge: “…”

Ever since they signed the contract, Yamanbakiri had been like this.

Lin Ge couldn’t shake the feeling he’d become his overgrown kid or something.

No other reason—Yamanbakiri just acted so… so doting?

Shaking his head to toss out the weird vibe, he dragged out his words. “So, I’ve got this friend…”

Classic opener: I’ve got a friend.

Yamanbakiri Kunihiro didn’t say anything, just tilted his body slightly, ready to listen.

Seeing he wasn’t poking fun at the cliché start, Lin Ge went on. “He accidentally ticked off a friend. How’s he supposed to make it right?”

For good measure, he tacked on, “It’s really my friend.”

Yamanbakiri Kunihiro: “…”

You didn’t need to add that last bit.

His voice was soft, with a touch of resignation. “Is it an important friend?”

Lin Ge nodded earnestly. “Yup!”

In both his lives combined, he’d never met anyone like Strawberry Shortcake.

Handsome, kind, thoughtful.

His Honmaru colleagues didn’t count—they were all in it together, a shared fate.

And… Yamanbakiri didn’t count either.

Lin Ge kept feeling like Yamanbakiri was radiating dad vibes now.

Was this some negative side effect from the contract?

Yamanbakiri Kunihiro squinted. “The guy with the blindfold from before?”

He was the only one around the Saniwa who’d qualify as a friend.

“Yeah…” Lin Ge answered, then caught himself. “Yamanbakiri, I said it’s my friend…”

Got played!

Smart all my life, dumb for a second!

Letting out a soft chuckle, Yamanbakiri Kunihiro gave a slight nod. “My lips are sealed.”

Lin Ge: “…”

I messed up. I royally messed up.

I’m the one who got hit with a dumb-dumb aura, aren’t I?

Since he’d been found out, he dropped the act, sitting up on the bed and swiftly dragging a stool over to sit next to the golden-haired tsukumogami. He shoved his chat history in his face. “Look, he’s mad, right?”

—

Getting a phone screen shoved in his face, Yamanbakiri Kunihiro: “…”

So straightforward!

Have I been promoted to the Saniwa’s friendship advisor now?

After a quick glance, Yamanbakiri Kunihiro hurriedly looked away.

“Not mad, just… sulking a bit, maybe?”

Lin Ge scratched his chin in distress. “What should I say back?”

“Show some apology?”

That stunt Tsurumaru-dono pulled had caused a real mess.

His friend’s probably the one handling that kind of work, right? Dumping all that extra load on him outta nowhere wasn’t exactly cool…

Lin Ge’s lips flattened as he pulled back his phone, typing furiously like he was facing a final boss.

“AA Desert Lone Wolf: You mad at me?”

Sincerity’s the ultimate weapon!

After sending it, he showed it to Yamanbakiri Kunihiro. “How’s that? How’s that!”

Yamanbakiri Kunihiro choked. “…Pretty good.”

He… should just go back to sorting papers.

With this approach, it’d be a miracle if the Saniwa didn’t get blocked.

The documents he was organizing were leftovers from the last Saniwa—sortie logs, forging records, work notes, and such.

These reports had to be submitted quarterly, but they’d been on hold since the Honmaru lacked a Saniwa. Now that Lin Ge was here, the tedious work had to pick back up.

Lin Ge got a headache just looking at the forms.

So, Yamanbakiri Kunihiro handled compiling the records, while Lin Ge scanned and uploaded files or made edits—clear division of labor.

Since Lin Ge had mentioned he didn’t have a blade roster, Yamanbakiri Kunihiro also helped him report the issue to the government.

Lin Ge threw in a long-winded complaint about Konosuke while he was at it.

The response was quick—within five minutes, Lin Ge noticed a new blade roster button on his personal UI.

As for his lengthy, rant-filled complaint, the government said they’d handle it ASAP.

The roster button was bright, like it had a golden border.

Lin Ge poked at it curiously and saw he’d already met most of the tsukumogami.

For a normal forging pace, this Honmaru had pretty few tsukumogami.

Lin Ge suspected it was the last guy’s fault.

It felt like a sad topic, so he wisely didn’t ask Yamanbakiri Kunihiro for details.

—

“Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding!”

A rapid ringtone snapped him back.

Lin Ge nearly fumbled his phone.

Squinting at the screen…

A video call!

From Strawberry Shortcake!

He gestured to Yamanbakiri that he was stepping out to take it, then scrambled outside, heart racing, breathing way too fast.

Tugging his bangs down, he checked himself in the call’s waiting screen, making sure he had a face that’d make anyone’s eyes light up. Then, with utmost seriousness, he hit accept.

“…Yo.”

Raising one hand, Lin Ge flashed a textbook grin.

Haven’t seen him in a day, and Strawberry Shortcake was still that handsome!

Rare day today—no blindfold, no sunglasses.

Gojo Satoru’s puzzled voice came through: “Who’re you?”

—

Lin Ge’s toothy grin vanished, and he pointed at himself, indignant. “…Me! It’s me!”

You forgot? We’re brothers from another mother!

No way—he’d only gotten slightly more handsome. Strawberry Shortcake couldn’t not recognize him!

Then he caught the smirk tugging at Gojo Satoru’s lips, and it hit him. “You did that on purpose!”

And he sold it so well!

Told ya.

With Strawberry Shortcake’s sharp eyes, how could he not know it was him?

Gojo Satoru grinned, eyeing Lin Ge’s glow-up from rough draft to polished masterpiece. His pupils reflected the other’s face, but his words didn’t match his expression. “Been snacking on someone else’s technique, huh?”