The staff room at Tokyo Jujutsu High was rarely quiet, but today, an unusual hush settled over it. Yaga stood at the front, arms crossed, his usual stern expression in place. Across from him, Gojo Satoru slouched lazily in his seat, sunglasses perched on his nose, spinning a pen between his fingers.

At the mention of a "new teacher," Nanami exhaled sharply, looking up from his neatly organized papers. Shoko glanced over, mild curiosity flickering in her tired eyes.

Gojo, of course, grinned. “New teacher, huh? Hope they’re not boring.”

Yaga shot him a pointed look before turning toward the door. “Come in.”

Footsteps echoed against the floor as the new arrival stepped inside. The atmosphere shifted immediately.

Gojo’s grin faltered—just slightly.

There was something undeniably powerful about the presence that walked through the door. It wasn’t just the cursed energy—though that alone was impressive—it was the sheer command they carried, a confidence that made even the most experienced sorcerers take note.

Nanami straightened in his chair. Shoko raised an eyebrow.

The new teacher’s eyes swept the room, calculating, assessing. Yaga nodded in approval. “This is your new colleague,” he said simply. “You’ll be teaching alongside them.”