Jujutsu Kaisen — Chapter 68 - The Rumored Jujutsu High? A Dumbfounded Yuta Okkotsu

Time flew by. Seven years, gone in a blink.

2017.

Tokyo Jujutsu High.

Yuta Okkotsu followed Satoru Gojo stiffly up the winding mountain path.

His palms were slick with cold sweat.

This was Jujutsu High.

Just the name sounded like a place drenched in death, blood, and curses.

A monster like him, possessed by a Special Grade Cursed Spirit, would probably be thrown under strict surveillance the moment he stepped inside. Or tossed straight into some lightless underground dungeon.

He had nearly killed someone, after all.

Rika Orimoto's power was terrifying. He couldn't control her at all.

Yuta swallowed hard, head bowed, already bracing himself for hell.

The path ahead opened wide.

No eerie Barrier.

No cold iron bars.

What greeted him was a massive training ground.

And on that training ground, a handful of people were lined up in neat rows, performing an utterly bizarre high-knee drill under the blazing sun.

Even more horrifying: every single one of them, boys and girls alike — was wrapped head to toe in eye-searing, bright green spandex.

"One! Two! Three! Four!"

"Burn! Sweat! Drip!"

"Embrace! Youth!"

The chants thundered in perfect unison, loud enough to send a flock of crows scattering from the back mountain.

Yuta Okkotsu's jaw dropped.

He stared at the students in that formation. Every face radiated pure, undiluted despair. Their knees kept pumping anyway.

What the hell kind of place is this?

Did I walk onto the wrong set? Is this a pyramid scheme?

Could the true face of Jujutsu High be a brainwashing cult dressed up as a school?

Satoru Gojo had both hands in his pockets, working a strawberry lollipop around his mouth. He tilted his head, looked at Yuta's completely blank expression, and smiled like he'd seen this exact reaction a hundred times before.

"Welcome to the new era of Jujutsu High. Pretty stylish, isn't it?"

Yuta stiffly turned his neck toward the far end of the training ground.

A massive stone monument stood there, four enormous characters carved in gaudy gold paint: Will of Fire.

He looked up. On the distant mountainside, a giant face had been carved directly into the rock. A statue of Principal Yaga.

"Th-this... is a school for Jujutsu Sorcerers?"

Yuta felt his entire worldview tipping off its foundation.

"It wasn't before." Satoru Gojo shrugged. "But ever since a certain muscle-brained idiot forcibly bent the academy's entire educational philosophy, this is what it became."

The words were barely out of his mouth.

A massive black shape plummeted from somewhere overhead.

BOOM!

The bluestone path exploded into a half-meter crater. Gravel sprayed in every direction.

Yuta flinched hard and stumbled back.

An enormously tall, powerfully built man straightened up from the crater floor. Short black hair. A scar at the corner of his mouth. The bright green spandex stretched tight over muscles that had absolutely no business being that size.

The man grinned. His teeth caught the sunlight and gleamed.

He shot his right hand up and gave Yuta a massive thumbs-up.

"Yo! So this is the new sapling! Those are some fine eyes! Prove your youth with your tears and your sweat, youngster!"

The roar hit like a thunderclap. Yuta was fairly certain his eardrums had cracked.

He froze, no idea what expression to make.

From behind the man, a spiky-haired kid ambled over at his own pace.

Fifteen-year-old Megumi Fushiguro had both hands in his pockets. He wore his signature dead-fish stare. He didn't spare so much as a glance at the posing green giant, just exhaled through his nose.

"Idiot old man. You scared him. If the Special Grade Cursed Spirit on him goes berserk, are you cleaning that up yourself?"

Toji scratched the back of his head and laughed. "The path of youth can't be without a few bumps along the way!"

Yuta quietly shuffled another step behind Satoru Gojo.

......

Principal's Office, Jujutsu High.

Quiet. But the air carried something absurd underneath, a dense, almost comical pressure.

Yuta Okkotsu stood in the center of the room with his head down, both hands fidgeting with the hem of his uniform.

He had no idea where to look.

Behind the office desk, Masamichi Yaga was laser-focused on a wool-felt needle-felting project shaped like a green spandex suit.

Satoru Gojo leaned against the window, scrolling on his phone.

And seated across from Yuta was the envoy from the higher-ups.

A balding, middle-aged man.

The balding man held a document stamped with a top-secret seal. His hands were shaking badly enough to rattle the pages. He kept sneaking glances at Satoru Gojo and Masamichi Yaga, fresh sweat pushing through in waves across his forehead.

The massacre ten years ago had gutted the higher-ups' leadership down to the studs. Everyone who survived was a yes-man, running purely on whatever mood drifted down from the academy.

But rules were rules.

The higher-ups' dignity still required going through the motions.

"Ahem... Yuta Okkotsu, student."

The balding man swallowed. His voice came out barely above a murmur.

"According to the regulations of the higher-ups, the Special Grade Vengeful Cursed Spirit Rika Orimoto bound to you presents an extremely high danger level. Based on prior precedent... a d-death sentence is required."

When the words "death sentence" left his mouth, he instinctively tucked his neck into his shoulders.

Yuta Okkotsu went rigid.

A death sentence.

So there really was no escaping it.

But maybe that was fine.

He closed his eyes. His mind flashed to the four classmates who bullied him, crammed into a narrow locker, soaked in blood.

Rika's power was completely out of his hands.

As long as he was alive, innocent people would keep getting caught in it.

He was nothing but a disaster. A jinx that only knew how to destroy.

Dying here might be the kindest thing he could do for everyone.

"I accept..." Yuta lowered his head, ready to let it happen.

BANG!

The mahogany double doors exploded inward from a single kick.

The balding man went over backward, chair, documents, and all. Papers scattered across the floor.

"Pretty sure I just heard someone talking about snuffing out a sapling of youth."

Toji Fushiguro stepped through the doorway.

Hands in his pockets. Smile warm as sunlight. But his eyes held something else entirely, a cold, violent killing intent that reached out and dragged the temperature down with it.

The old man scrambled up from the floor on all fours, face drained white.

He knew that face.

The tyrant who tore Special Grade Cursed Spirits apart with his bare hands. The one who wiped out the higher-ups' leadership.

"No! No no no! Absolutely not!" The balding man shook his head like a rattle drum, cold sweat running freely off his chin. "Lord Toji, you misheard! What I said was... was that a devastatingly rigorous special training is required!"

"Oh? Special training? Youth special training?" Toji crossed the room toward him, sunny smile back in full effect.

"Yes! Exactly! Youth special training!" The balding man clawed his scattered documents off the floor and crammed them into his bag in a fistful of crumpled chaos.

"The formalities are complete. Student Okkotsu's training is entirely in your capable hands, my lords! I'll see myself out!"

He lurched through the door and didn't look back once.

Yuta stood frozen.

That was it? The highest authority over his life or death couldn't hold its ground for even 10 seconds in front of this man?

The office went quiet.

Toji turned. His gaze settled on Yuta.

He looked the boy over. Thin. Hunched. Dark circles that had clearly taken up permanent residence. Head to toe, the kid radiated a thick, suffocating aura of self-doubt and defeat.

"You're Yuta Okkotsu." Not a question, but Toji waited.

Yuta snapped upright. "Y-yes!"

"Tell me why you were ready to accept a death sentence."

Yuta bit his lip. Fear and guilt came flooding back into his eyes at the same time. He clenched his fists. His nails pressed into his palms.

"I... I can't control Rika."

His voice was on the edge of breaking. "Those four boys just pushed me down. They always bullied me. Rika went berserk trying to protect me and crammed them into a locker. They were badly hurt."

He dropped his head. He couldn't look Toji in the face.

"I'm too dangerous. All I do is hurt people. I don't want to hurt anyone anymore. If I die, it ends. All of it."

He shut his eyes and waited for the lecture he knew was coming.

This man was all muscle and fire and certainty. He'd have no patience for a coward who didn't even know how to fight back.

Toji said nothing.

He walked to the desk, pulled a chair out casually, and sat astride it with both arms folded across the backrest.

"Once, I had a best friend." His voice came out quiet. Unexpectedly serious.

➤ Next: Jujutsu High’s Bizarre Rules Horror