THEORY OF SINGULARITY ; kento nanami

𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙥𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 ━━ 𝘥𝘪𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘪𝘭𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘴

After you duty in the infirmary, you grabbed snacks as your breakfast, then you only took a bath, did your morning skincare, wore your training apparel, tied your hair, and went to the school grounds. Your day would start training the second years. The first years would join as well. Since it was still early—six o'clock on the morning—you found yourself lying on the grass ground of the oval race track.

You stared at the sky, looking for signs and answers and the poetry that people had been writing between the dark dusk clouds. The sky was always a lost poetry—it was something that could be seen every day, yet also an image that the mind could forget immediately.

I just want to get photosynthesized.

You said dreamily as you watched the sun swelled its first light in the eastern lands.

It didn't take long when your students had arrived. Your morning duty as a teacher composed of beating someone half to death. Although you were drowsy and tired as fuck, they couldn't still land a blow on you. It must be years and years and years of experience and now you were a pro in the arts of defense.

In the afternoon, you were a different person; time for your sorcery mission. Being summoned to the principal's office, you dragged yourself to see Yaga.

"Gokuro," Principal Yaga greeted as soon as you enter the office.

"Well, yeah," you shrugged loosely. Like I have a choice. Then, you sat on the free chairs available in front his desk.

The principal didn't know what kind of person you were, moreso your immortality and the true nature of your cursed technique. He was one of Gojo's trusted people; Yaga already had so much on his plate—his life on the line because of Yuuji, for instance—and you'd be unnecessary and additional stress if he'd learn more of your secrets.

Yaga didn't beat around the bush and discussed your mission right away. "It'll be a guarding duty today," he said.

"Hah?" Your face immediately went frowning from a catatonic one. "Babysitting job?"

"A son of a higher-up," Yaga provided a clearer detail while ignoring your qualms. "There are threats of assassination that are being imposed on his family, that's why they're in need of protection."

You raised an eyebrow questionably and full of suspicion. "It's not a sorcerer's job to guard someone. If they're desperate to be protected, tell them to go to the police."

"You know that the sorcerers are independent in the society." His baritone voice was calm, but you could discern that he was reprimanding you. "And those who are threatening them are sorcerers as well." Yaga read the incoming outburst to your facial expression, so he immediately cut you off by saying, "Your client is waiting for you in the teachers' office. You partner for this mission will explain you the details."

"Uuuuggghhhhhhh . . !" you grumbled hoarsely as you threw your head back in so much frustration. "There are other missions there, why a babysitting job?" You bet that son is a useless nepo baby.

Yaga didn't concern himself in answering your whining, and you took that as a sign of snubbing you out because he probably didn't give a fuck. For Yaga, no matter how you nagged about your mission, you would still do it, nonetheless. Much more, the successful rate of your job was high and low in casualties.

With trailing feet, you led yourself outside the office. Teachers' office, huh? You wondered idly while walking on the hallway. Two sorcerers for this mission—you could tell your partner would be also a grade 1 sorcerer.

You hated it; those higher-ups were abusing their power. Just because they were in the most top position of the triangle, they could already order anyone as if they—sorcerers—were slaves.