First Day Back – Chapter 65

First Day Back – Chapter 65

Ren woke up to the blaring chirp of a bird outside his window and the dull ache of exhaustion in his neck. He groaned, eyes half-lidded and full of complaint, stretching his arms up and yawning like a lion refusing to rise.

He had barely slept the night before, scribbling nonsense and calculations and more versions of a cursed circuit into his notebook by the dim light of his desk lamp. The air was stale, and his mouth was dry, but the moment he sat up and rubbed his face, reality hit him like a slow slap.

"…Ugh. The week's over, huh?"

Yes. Today was the end of his weeklong self-imposed exile—granted by Gojo under the guise of a 'reward' for winning that three-on-one spar. It wasn't that Ren hated class; he just didn't care about it. His mind was already chasing a dream far more exciting than lectures or recitations. He had come so close—the blueprint for the perfected Red Cursed Circuit was nearly complete. He could feel it in his bones—literally.

"Just a few more days," he muttered as he stood up and walked toward the bathroom, dragging his feet like a sulky teenager. "If I had just two more days…"

He brushed his teeth like a zombie, eyes still half closed, splashing cold water on his face afterward and sighing with reluctant acceptance. After a quick bath and a plain breakfast of rice and miso soup, he threw on the Jujutsu High uniform like a second thought. The shirt was wrinkled. The collar is loose. His hair—wild as ever—remained untouched by a comb.

He walked down the path to the classroom with the air of someone who had already mentally left again.

When he entered the room, the chatter died slightly, and eyes immediately turned to him. Ren didn't even look at them. He just walked straight in, found an empty desk, and sat in it with a heavy sigh. His arms folded over the desk, and his head dropped between them like a stone hitting the sea.

It didn't take him long to realize two things.

One: There was another teacher in the room. Not Gojo.

Two: The classroom had far more students than what he expected. In fact, way more than what the manga or anime had ever shown.

He blinked lazily and listened with half an ear as the man at the front—a middle-aged sorcerer in dull robes—went on in a dramatic tone:

"—Curses are the very source of death, disappearances, and destruction throughout Japan. Recent records attribute over 10,000 incidents to cursed influence—"

Ren sighed quietly. "Yapping…" he muttered under his breath.

The teacher continued undeterred, but Ren wasn't paying attention. His eyes were shut, and he was deep in thought again.

'More students, huh? Must be the normal ones… That's right. Maki, Panda, Inumaki, and now me—we're not part of the regular batch. We're Gojo's personal students.'

It explained why those four were always front and center in the series. They weren't just strong—they were chosen. And now, Ren was one of them.

But what amused him more was the way the rest of the class reacted.

He could feel their stares. Not just curious. Not just confused.

Uneasy. Like they were watching a caged tiger.

His wild hair. His blank expression. The rumors.

Oh yes, the rumors.

Ren had heard whispers here and there—how he was a natural monster, someone who learned cursed energy by instinct alone. A wild, unpredictable anomaly who beat a special-grade cursed spirit and walked out without a scratch. The story had only grown more ridiculous by the day.

And with his current appearance? He certainly looked the part.

'Like an animal,' he thought dryly. 'That's what they see.'

Still, he didn't really mind. It kept people from bothering him.

Ren's face was hidden in his arms, so no one could really see the small smile slowly forming on his lips.

His mind had drifted again—this time not to his technique, but to something… darker.

'It's almost ready. Just a few more tests. But I can't summon Rika here. Gojo warned me. Said not to, unless I wanted the entire school coming down on me.'

He clicked his tongue softly against his teeth.

'So what do I do? Should I leave campus? No, too risky. I need a way to get cursed energy… or more techniques. Or…'

His thoughts clicked into place like tumblers on a lock.

'The Death Paintings… The Cursed Womb: Death Paintings… They should still be in Tokyo Jujutsu High's Cursed Warehouse…'

His smile grew slightly wider.

'If I can get in there… If Rika eats one of them… I might be able to copy a new cursed technique. Or better—*Blood Manipulation.* That would change everything.'

Blood Manipulation was one of the most revered techniques in the world of Jujutsu. Versatile. Powerful. The ability to control blood would open a thousand new pathways for his circuit.

He could even use it to stabilize the flow…

And while Ren sank deeper into his scheming spiral, he didn't realize how his expression had changed. His head was still on the desk, but the angle made his mouth curl in just the right way—twisted. Almost creepy.

And unfortunately for him… someone did see it.

Maki.

Sitting a few desks over, resting her cheek on her hand while pretending to pay attention, she caught Ren's profile in the corner of her eye.

And he was smiling.

Right at her.

Or at least… that's what it looked like from her angle.

Her eyes widened slightly, and she straightened. Her first instinct? What the hell is this guy thinking now?

Ren… didn't even know she was there.

He was already back in his world. Plans, theories, bloodstreams, cursed energy flow, hidden pathways, binding vows. He wasn't sitting in a classroom—he was somewhere far beyond it.