Special Grade Brownies

Kiyotaka Ijichi had brought them to Tokyo Jujutsu High.

An American civilian who had been rescued by Sorcerers, wanted to express their gratitude, and handover a container to Ijichi.

Packaged in the container, the homemade brownies were cut neatly in to squares and dusted with powdered sugar, and left upon a table before Ijichi quickly departed after receiving a call.

And Satoru Gojo had found them first.

"Attention, my beloved students!"

Gojo swept into the common room, carrying the container of brownies with a serving plate.

"Your handsome, generous, overwhelmingly benevolent teacher has acquired refreshments!"

Nobara Kugisaki glanced up from her phone.

"Did you pay for those?"

Gojo proceeded to unpackage the brownies onto the plate, wagging a finger while he feigned a sadden grimace.

"Your lack of faith wound me, Nobara."

"So you stole them?"

"I prefer to think of it as... redistribution!"

Gojo held out the plate of brownies to Nobara, smiling. "Take one."

Yuji Itadori was already reaching for one of the brownies.

"Thanks, Gojo-sensei!"

"Itadori, wait-" Megumi Fushiguro warned.

Too late.

Yuji had taken a bite, his eyes widened with delight.

"These are amazing!"

Nobara grabbed one for herself.

"Finally. Something useful you’ve done today, old man."

"I’m not old!" Gojo clutched his chest in theatrical anguish before helping himself to two brownies.

Fushiguro eyed the plate with suspicion.

His teacher had acquired free food, offered no explanation, and was now encouraging them to eat it.

Before he could question, Gojo pressed a brownie into his hand.

"Eat up, Megumi! You look like you haven’t experienced joy since birth."

"I experience joy."

"Name three examples."

"Not answering your text message."

"That’s one!"

Fushiguro sighed and took a bite.

For the next twenty minutes, nothing seemed amiss.

Then Yuji stopped talking and stared at his hands.

"Guys..."

Nobara barely glanced up.

"What now?"

"I can feel my fingers."

Fushiguro turned toward him.

"You could always feel your fingers."

"No, but..." Yuji wiggled them, looking increasingly fascinated. "They’re attached to me."

Gojo lowered the plate. A second later, he burst into laughter.

"HAHAHAHA! IT TOOK YOU SIXTEEN YEARS TO FIGURE THAT OUT?"

Yuji joined in, laughing so hard that he could barely breathe.

The joke wasn’t particularly funny, but Gojo’s laughter was infectious.

Nobara watched the two of them with disgust.

"You’re both idiots." She muttered, she took another bite of her second helping of a brownie.

Nobara returned to her phone, only to look up again a moment later. Her gaze shifted from the brownie in her hand to the ceiling.

She studied it for several seconds before turning to Fushiguro.

"Why is the ceiling breathing?"

Fushiguro followed her gaze.

It’s an ordinary ceiling like any other, and he was perfectly aware that ceilings do not breathe.

He stared at it for another five seconds.

"...I think it is breathing."

Shoko Ieiri entered the common room twenty minutes later, coffee in hand.

She stopped several steps from the doorway.

Yuji sat cross-legged on the floor, explaining friendship to a potted ficus.

Nobara had wrapped herself in a blanket and was arguing with the only vending machine propped against the corner of the common room, which she accused of judging her fashion choices.

Fushiguro sat rigidly on the couch with his eyes closed, repeating a mantra under his breath:

"I am a sorcerer. I exorcise curses. I am a sorcerer. I exorcise curses."

Lastly, Gojo lay on his back across three chairs lined up in a row, his head hanging upside down over one end. His arms stretched out to either side, knuckles barely touching the floor.

"SHOKOOOO!"

She took a sip of coffee.

"No."

"You don’t even know what I’m going to say!"

"I know by the sound and tone of your voice. That’s enough."

"You’re so mean to meeee!" He pouted.

"How long have you been like that?"

Gojo considered the question thoughtfully.

"...Ten...minutes?"

"Ten minutes?" Shoko repeated, raising a brow.

"Gravity is a social construct," Gojo said with a grin. "Least I believe it is upon self-discovery!"

Shoko lowered her cup and surveyed the room: three students behaving oddly, while the strongest sorcerer was strewn on three chairs instead of his usual expensive reclining chair and appeared to be behaving more ridiculous than he normally does.

She looked at the plate on the table.

All that is left is one half eaten brownie and several crumbs.

"What did you and the others eat?"

"Brownieeees!" Gojo announced with glee.

Shoko picked up the last half of the remaining brownie and examined it.

After sniffing it, she lowered the brownie back onto the plate then reached for the container beside it.

"Are these... homemade?"

Fushiguro opened one eye.

"What’s wrong?"

Shoko held up the container.

"If my theory is correct: these brownies have cannabis in them."

The room fell silent.

Yuji stopped talking to the plant.

Nobara lowered her blanket.

Fushiguro’s expression went completely blank.

Gojo raised one finger.

"Okay... in my defense..."

"YOU FED US - YOUR STUDENTS - DRUGS?!" Nobara shrieked.

"I DIDN’T KNOW!"

"How many did you eat?" Shoko asked.

Gojo pulled one side of his blindfold up, revealing one blue eye.

He counted on his fingers. "...Four?"

"Four?" Shoko repeated, staring at him.

"They were delicious!" He then paused before staring at his own hand.

"Are my fingers this beautiful?"

Shoko pinched the bridge of her nose.

This is going to be a long day.

By the time the effects had fully set in, Gojo had developed a particular interest in the same ficus plant by the window that Yuji was engaging in an in-depth conversation with.

Gojo crouched in front of it.

"Hey."

The plant remained silent.

Gojo nodded approvingly.

"I respect that. You’re not intimidated by my amazing presence."

Yuji crept up beside him, his expression grave.

“Gojo-sensei, I think it’s a special grade curse.”

Gojo whipped his head to Yuji at his side.

"WHAT?!"

"Look at it!" Yuji lowered his voice, barely a whisper. “It’s been standing there the entire time. Menacingly. Plotting.”

Gojo turned back to the ficus.

For perhaps the first time in his life, Satoru Gojo considered the possibility that he had encountered a worthy opponent.

He narrowed his eyes behind the blindfold and poked a leaf.

"You and I need to have a discussion."

The plant offered no response (of course).

"Don’t ignore me," Gojo said sternly.

Across the room, Fushiguro had become fascinated by the emergency exit sign (or if there truly is one there).

"Why is it telling me to leave?"

Nobara, now wearing her blanket like a royal cape, pointed at him.

"Because you’re boring."

"You’re wearing a blanket, Kugisaki."

"It’s called fashion, you uncultured depressing swine!"

Yuji raised his hand.

"Can I have the last piece of brownie?"

"NO." Shoko, Nobara, and Fushiguro said in unison.

Yuji lowered his hand.

An hour later, Principal Masamichi Yaga arrived.

He had spent the morning and afternoon dealing with administrative matters, and was looking forward to a quiet evening; however, the scene in the common room put an end to that hope immediately as he entered to check in on Satoru Gojo and his students.

Yaga first noticed Shoko stood by the table, supervising:

Yuji was kneeling in front of the ficus, on his hands and knees with his head bowed in a Dogeza position. Apologizing to the plant for having mistaken it for a special grade curse.

Nobara was demanding compensation for emotional damages from the vending machine. Hammer and steel nails ready in both hands.

Fushiguro had pulled his hood over his face, murmuring while cradling himself, slowly rocking back and forth on the couch.

Gojo sat at the table, fascinated by a glass of water in hand as if making a philosophical discovery.

Yaga turned to Shoko as he approached the table where Gojo sat on the opposite side.

"Explain."

Shoko handed him the container, and pointed at the last half of a brownie on the serving plate.

Yaga studied the container in hand, glanced at the plate with one half of a brownie left, then fixed his gaze on Gojo then back at Shoko. The students. Then back at Gojo. Piecing the whole scenario together.

Gojo offered him a weak smile and a friendly wave, lowering the glass of water on the tabletop.

"Before you say anything,” Gojo slurred. “Remember that I'm your strongest asset."

Yaga set the container down.

"Gojo..."

"Yes?"

"Why?"

For once, Gojo struggled to answer.

He glanced at Yuji, who was still apologizing to the plant, then at the glass of water on the table.

Finally, he looked back at Yaga.

"The brownies were really good..."

Yaga clenched his fist.

Shoko stepped away from the table.

Shortly later, the ensuing lecture was heard from the other side of the campus: Gojo protested his innocence and Yaga’s patience deteriorated with every passing second.

Then Gojo’s voice rang from the hallway:

"WAIT! IF I’M THIS HIGH, DOES THAT MEAN MY SIX EYES CAN SEE HIGHER DIMENSIONS?"

Shoko looked into her empty coffee cup and sighed.

"I’m billing the school for this."

Fushiguro folded forward on the couch, pressing his forehead into his hands.

He had survived cursed spirits, dangerous missions, and years under the supervision of Satoru Gojo.

He had believed himself prepared for almost anything.

Apparently, he had overlooked the possibility of drug-laced food.

"I want to transfer." He grumbled.

It would be a long time before anyone at Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College was trusted to receive any gifts from thankful civilians.

The End.