Gojo Satoru: The Strongest Sorcerer Among Exorcists

Morning.

Instead of heading to Sobu High like usual, Gojo Satoru was on his way to visit a hospital.

He was going to see the last student from his homeroom class: Marin Kitagawa.

As the homeroom teacher of Class 1-F, it was only right to check in on a student who had been hospitalized.

He had left today's lessons in Shizuka Hiratsuka's hands.

Tokyo Nakano Hospital was his destination.

The name "Nakano" reminded him of Nino Nakano. Could it be her foster father's hospital?

Riding his beloved little electric scooter, Gojo Satoru hummed a tune as he set off.

The sight of a man with white hair and an eye mask riding a scooter naturally turned heads. Pedestrians couldn't help but wonder: How does he even see where he's going? Isn't he afraid of getting pulled over or causing an accident?

Tokyo Nakano Hospital – Inpatient Ward.

Marin Kitagawa sat in her hospital bed, scrolling through her phone. She was admiring cosplay photos from a famous online influencer on a forum, her heart filled with envy.

She was a passionate otaku—an avid fan of anime, manga, games, and even some more… mature content.

Recently, a new passion had blossomed in her heart: cosplay.

For her, cosplay was the ultimate expression of love for her favorite characters.

Back in middle school, Marin's striking looks had made her a natural choice for magazine modeling. She often appeared in fashion spreads as a reader model, her photos gracing the pages of trendy magazines.

Though modeling agencies had repeatedly offered her exclusive contracts, she had turned them all down. After all, she was still a high school student, and academics had to come first. Modeling had only ever been a hobby.

But now, a new dream had taken hold of her heart.

"I've decided! Once I'm discharged, I'll sew my own cosplay costumes and start cosplaying!"

Marin put her phone down, her expression resolute.

"Ugh, I'm so proud of my student's ambitions! As your teacher, I fully support you!"

"Wha—? Huh???"

A sudden voice startled Marin, making her jump.

She turned her head, and to her shock, there was a white-haired man sitting at her bedside.

The man was holding a handkerchief (or was it an eye mask?) to his face, pretending to wipe away tears. His expression radiated the kind of pride one might have for a loyal dog finally learning a new trick.

"E-excuse me, sir? Are you… my homeroom teacher? Gojo-sensei?"

Marin cautiously asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

The casually dressed white-haired man didn't seem to match her image of a teacher, but the mention of "student" and "teacher" made her suspect it was him.

"You guessed it! I'm so proud of you, Kitagawa-san!" Gojo gave her a thumbs-up, his face beaming with exaggerated pride.

"Uh… haha…"

Scratching the back of her head, Marin chuckled awkwardly.

However, as her laughter subsided, her gaze fell on the hospital room window.

The window, which had been closed earlier, was now wide open. A thought struck her like a bolt of lightning: this man hadn't used the door, had he?

She fell silent.

"Gojo-sensei."

"What's up, Kitagawa-san?"

"…How did you get in here?"

"Through there, of course!"

Gojo nonchalantly pointed at the open window.

"The elevator and stairs were too crowded, so I came up the side of the building. Oh, by the way, I brought you flowers!"

With that, he pulled a bouquet from his pocket.

Chrysanthemums.

"YOU JERK! WHO RUINED MY CHRYSANTHEMUMS? I SPENT YEARS GROWING THOSE! I'M GONNA FIND YOU, YOU MONSTER!"

A furious yell erupted from outside the window, growing louder and more incoherent with sobs.

Both Gojo and Marin froze, their eyes locking on the bouquet in his hands.

"Oops. I thought they were wildflowers," Gojo said with a sheepish grin.

Marin burst out laughing, tears streaming down her face.

"Sensei, you're hilarious!"

"What do you mean, hilarious? I'll have you know I'm your teacher, Kitagawa-san. It's not polite to mock your teacher!" Gojo wagged a finger at her, feigning indignation.

"Okay, okay," Marin replied, wiping tears from her eyes as her laughter subsided.

Now that she had a moment to really look at him, she realized that her homeroom teacher had a unique sense of style.

The blindfold, the relaxed demeanor—it was all very… eccentric.

Still, she couldn't help but wonder: Can he even see through that thing? It must be transparent or something, right? Otherwise, how does he walk around?