“Mom, it is about time you gave me a clear answer. Just make the decision and do not worry. If there are problems, I will handle them.”

  “How do you plan to handle them?” Akemi Aki asked.

  “We will see how Kamo Clan reacts. If they turn a blind eye and pretend nothing happened, then everyone gets along. If they dare to bully people, then do not blame me for being rough. I will have Little Sha and Darkrai tear down Kamo Clan’s ancestral estate. That should help them understand reality.”

  After learning from Satoru Gojo for so long, Akira had picked up quite a few methods of threat and deterrence. He still kept some restraint, following the usual traditions of China.

  They did not start trouble, but they were not afraid of it either. They promised not to use nuclear weapons first, but if someone wanted a nuclear war, they would throw one straight back.

  A faint smile finally appeared on Akemi Aki’s face, and she reached out to touch Akira’s head. When he was young, she often did this, and his habit of patting heads came from her.

  Now that he had grown taller, Akemi Aki had to raise her hand higher to reach him. She looked at him gently and said, “I am happy you feel this way, but Ari, have you thought about how the Jujutsu World will react?”

  “At worst, they cannot beat us head-on and will use sanctions and isolation. I am not bragging, but when it comes to dealing with sanctions, Tokyo Jujutsu High ranks second, and no one in Japan dares claim first. The sky will not fall. Satoru Gojo is there to hold it up.”

  At first, Akira only wanted to secure a stable life for his mother. After more contact with Satoru Gojo, he felt being a bit more aggressive was fine, since that was exactly what Satoru Gojo wanted to see.

  “I just do not want to trouble Satoru Gojo too much,” Akemi Aki said, shaking her head softly. “He has already taken care of us a lot.”

  “We have done plenty for him too. Human relationships work like that,” Akira said with a grin. “Or is it that you, Mom, have started to like Satoru Gojo?”

  Hearing her son’s nonsense, Akemi Aki changed from patting his head to smacking it lightly. “What are you saying? Do you really want to push your mother out like this and go live a two-person world with Little Sha?”

  Akira had thick skin and did not care about the pain. He joked, “Have I ever cared whether anyone was watching when it is me and Little Sha?”

  She fell silent for a moment. If he had not said it, she would almost have forgotten that the one who suffered the most from being forced to watch was her, as a mother.

  “And besides,” Akira continued, “aside from his personality, Satoru Gojo is pretty good in every way. I have not heard any rumors either. Even that questionable personality is nothing compared to my cold-blooded cheap dad.”

  “If you compare them like that, then yes, that is true,” Akemi Aki said.

  Since the legal wife’s request to swap children had been approved, Akemi Aki had lost all goodwill toward her ex-husband. Outside she might still care about appearances, but in front of Akira there was no need.

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  “But if you look at it that way,” she said, “are there not too many suitable people? Am I supposed to marry all of them?”

  “Are there other suitable candidates?” Akira rested his chin on his hand as if thinking. “An unmarried adult man… it is not Principal Yaga, right? His conditions are good, but his looks are a bit uneven.”

  That face full of muscle stood out even more because people like Satoru Gojo and Akira raised the average so high. She glared at him and said, “If you talk like that, the principal will be heartbroken. He thinks highly of you.”

  “That is not my fault. He stays in his room all day making Cursed Corpse. Honestly, if he keeps going like that, I would not be surprised if he builds an army.”

  In a way, Masamichi Yaga was like a mutated version of Akira. The longer he developed, the deeper his foundation became, and he also held a trump card that Jujutsu Society had coveted for years.

  “If he were willing to reveal it, he would become the fifth, or more accurately the fourth Special Grade, even before Yuta Okkotsu.” Akemi Aki shook her head.

  “That is not how it is. To the principal, Cursed Corpse are more like children. Who would be willing to send their children onto a battlefield? Do not talk about this anymore. You would not want others to say you treat Little Sha as a tool.”

  “That is my fault,” Akira admitted immediately. If his mother thought that way, Panda would be the first to come after him. He hesitated, then asked, “So, Mom, about your second spring…”

  “Do not talk about that either,” Akemi Aki said. “You think it is suitable, but others may not. I have never thought about these things. Seeing you and Noritoshi Kamo grow up well is enough for me.”

  This was Akemi Aki’s most honest feeling. The moment she left Kamo Clan, half her heart had already died, and the rest was placed entirely on her two children.

  “Then you should go even more,” Akira said. “Do you not want to see with your own eyes how Noritoshi Kamo is doing?”

  “Of course I do,” she replied. “I am just afraid that if I go, I will bring him trouble. The sharper our conflict with Kamo Clan becomes, the worse his situation will be. He is still the heir of Kamo Clan.”

  She finally spoke her true thoughts. Akira and Satoru Gojo could protect her, but they could not protect Noritoshi Kamo, or rather Noritoshi Kamo as the future clan head.

  From beginning to end, Akemi Aki always put her children’s future first. As for herself, it did not matter. She had not told Akira because she was afraid that, as a discarded child of Kamo Clan, he might resent the heir.

  Understanding his mother’s heart, Akira sighed. “You are too kind. That is why my cheap birth mother bullied you.”

  “Is kindness a bad thing?” Akemi Aki asked.

  “It is not bad, just…” Some words were hard for him to say. “Since you put it that way, I cannot tie you up and drag you there. Do you have anything you want me to tell Noritoshi Kamo?”

  She hesitated for a while, then shook her head. “There is no need to say anything. As long as he is doing well. Just find a chance to take some photos for me.”

  “That is easy,” Akira said. “But I do have something. If Noritoshi Kamo dares forget his original intentions and turns into someone as annoying as my cheap dad, do not blame me for beating him until even you cannot recognize him.”

  He was a good person, but that did not mean he had no temper like his mother. She could only say, “Be gentle. Both sides are still my children.”

  Then she looked at him and asked, “You say all this. Are you fully prepared?”

  “Almost,” Akira replied. “The second-year has not shown up yet. If this keeps up, I will have no choice but to throw him out for solo work.”

  They had lived and trained together as first-years for so long just to practice team battles. How could they rely on a newcomer they had never even met once?

  Yet the very next day after Akira complained, that man appeared. He stood there and said with a smile, “I am a second-year student, Kinji Hakari. I am your senior brother. If you have anything you do not understand, you can ask me, and I will kindly explain it to you.”

  He finally arrived. A senior who alone counted as an entire grade sounded impressive, but the first impression was a letdown. Tokyo Jujutsu High was famous for good looks, yet the average score clearly dropped the moment he showed up.