The weather was unseasonably hot for the end of August. Itadori was sprawled on the couch.
“Ugh …”
The heat wasn’t really that bad. In fact, the air-conditioner made it cool. Itadori wasn’t in the handy underground theater that Gojo had prepared. He was in an apartment somewhere in the city.
Specifically, he was in Ijichi’s room.
I have to go on a little business trip. It isn’t close, so I may be gone for a few days. It probably isn’t great to hide in the same place indefinitely, so stick by Ijichi’s side for a while. You may even have some fun.
That’s what Gojo had said. And that’s how Itadori ended up crashing at Ijichi’s place for a few days. It was his first day, and he was already bored. If it is true that boredom is poison to the human heart, then Itadori had already received a fatal dose.
“Urm …”
Lately Itadori hadn’t had enough time to be bored. Since coming to Jujutsu High, he’d sparred with Fushiguro and Kugisaki, exorcized cursed spirits, almost died, and then actually died.
After the resurrection, Gojo had made him go into hiding, which had mostly consisted of watching movies. In fact, it had actually been kind of fun, and had even served as a kind of sorcery training. The last few months had been a roller-coaster ride.
Then, suddenly, he had to start living at Ijichi’s, where there was shockingly little to do. Even after Ijichi came home, the man spent most of his time staring at a computer screen.
“Whatcha doin’? Readin’ a blog?”
Itadori leaned over Ijichi’s shoulder for a look. All he saw was a chart—a jam-packed list of numbers, so detailed it looked like the composite eye of an insect. Petty cash accounting, standard monthly remuneration, depreciable assets, changes to school grounds, cash flow, taxes, faxes, and schmaxes …
Itadori couldn’t make any sense of it. Apparently Ijichi was hard at work, which meant Itadori shouldn’t make much noise.
“Ijichi, mind if I read a book?” he asked
“Not at all. Take whatever you want from the bookshelves.”
“Is this one called Leviathan a fantasy novel?”
“No. It’s assigned reading in political philosophy,” Ijichi said.
“You got any manga?”
“My parents have some old ones back home.”
The situation was desperate.
Itadori found a book that looked vaguely like a novel, read a few pages, realized it wasn’t for him, and quit. With no other recourse, he flipped on the TV and turned the volume down low. It was that stretch between the daytime variety shows and the prime time shows when there was nothing good on. As he surfed channels, all he saw were news programs and a show in which celebrities sampled tasty cuisine. By process of elimination, he settled on the food show.
“It feels weird to be watching TV at this time of day,” he said.
“Yes, you’re usually at school.”
Itadori was surprised that Ijichi had responded. Maybe a little light conversation wouldn’t interfere with Ijichi’s work after all.
“And this is when you’re usually at work, right?” he said.
“This is within my work hours, yes. But I can work at home as long as it doesn’t impact my efficiency. Most companies probably aren’t so lax.”
“Oh, really?”
Itadori had dealt with adult sorcerers, but as a student, he didn’t have much knowledge of more typical office work. Not really getting it, he titled his head and looked back at the television.
“Oh, hey! Takada-chan’s the guest!”
“Is she famous?”
Itadori had spoken under his breath, but Ijichi replied anyway. If the man was interested, Itadori thought this might be an effective way to kick off a conversation.
“Yeah, she’s been showing more skin lately because she just does whatever she wants. She’s cute, but she’s tall, so you might not notice it. I love that incongruity.”
“Oh, is that what’s trendy these days?” asked Itadori.
“Come to think of it, she had a small role in that drama that used to be on at nine o’clock on Monday nights.”
“Oh, really?”
“Don’t you watch TV dramas, Ijichi?”
“Sorry, but not really. It’s not that I dislike them per se, but the new style doesn’t appeal to me. I did watch Pure Vacation though.”
“Hm? When was that on?”
“A little over ten years ago,” Ijichi said. “Actually, Motoko-chan was tall too.”
“Motoko-chan?”
“She was a popular actress back then, but she got married and gave up her career,” Ijichi explained. I suppose kids today wouldn’t know her.”
“Y-yeah … Are there any variety shows you like?”
“No, not really. I never recognize any of the guests because I don’t watch any of the dramas.”
“Professional athletes show up too, you know,” Itadori said.
“I don’t watch sports either. I’m not very athletic, so they just don’t interest me.”
“If you don’t watch prime time, you must watch late-night programming. I like those shows around midnight that showcase new entertainers. I know I’ll regret it in the morning, but I stay up late anyway.”
“No, I don’t watch those either,” Ijichi said.
“Then what do you watch?”
“The news. But I do like uncool rakugo shows.”
“Rakugo, huh?”
Itadori had run out of things to say.
Rakugo aired on Sunday evenings when most students were out having fun, so even for a TV child like Itadori, it wasn’t an option. Furthermore, the way Ijichi had tacked on rakugo after mentioning the news made it seem like he was going out of his way to be considerate.
Itadori was usually good at getting a conversation started, but he realized their interests were completely different and clammed up. Glancing over, he noticed Ijichi had not stopped typing as they talked. It would be awkward to keep forcing him to speak.
On the TV, the regular presenter and Takada-chan were engaging in banter about the food around Nagoya.
The program was neither entertaining nor boring, so Itadori wouldn’t say Takada-chan was at her best. All she ever said about the food was, “Delicious!”
Takada-chan’s on, so they should have come up with a better topic. I bet this is all scripted. It’s more like a commercial than real reactions to food. But people watch these programs more for the conversation than the food!
Itadori had grown up in front of the boob tube. He had also just binged a ton of movies, so he had developed a sense for quality and was learning to pick up on what the creators were trying to achieve. Which meant boring material was now even more boring.
If this was his only option besides the news, he was in a bad situation. But nothing else was on. Itadori kept watching in hopes that something would catch his interest, but the warm room and soft sofa were making him drowsy.
“Itadori? I have to go out on business.”
Itadori started upright. “Uaaaagh! Metal Tamori!”
“Metal Tamori?” Ijichi gave him a puzzled look.