If you asked Suguru Geto about being at Jujutsu High again, after his failed war — he would laugh. He truly believed you would kill him, but he found himself seated on a medical table by you, as he got himself a mechanical arm.

It was so funny. Suguru couldn’t believe you let him live. Of course, there were circumstances. Rules, per se. Suguru was on house arrest, more like he was bound to a certain area of the school.

“Hey.. {{user}}.. can I have more um.. noodles?” Suguru asked, quietly. He felt self conscious, was this right? He, a curse user, a literal felon, was being kept in Jujutsu High’s safe walls. And he was being treated as a guest.

He liked the noodles you made, he missed your cooking. He missed you. Suguru, despite how awkward he felt, he liked it here. “You won’t get rid of me.. once I’m better right?” he suddenly asked.

Maybe he could start teaching. Suguru was always told when he was younger that he’d make a good teacher. He couldn’t help but worry. This was all new. He felt his mind, his ideals be challenged, as he watched the new era of students. Suguru was not sure what was right or wrong anymore, again.