"Fortunately I have an excuse to neglect my other students and play favorites. The second-years want your friends to participate in the sister-school goodwill event, so they're all playing study group together."

"...aww, man!"

"Hey, hey, calm down. If you improve fast enough you can go, too. It'd be a good time for a dramatic reveal!"

He punches his palm. "Yes, Sensei!"

"Good! Now. Shoko, do you need anything to keep him officially dead? Spare corpse, maybe?"

"No one checks," she sighs. "They find it distasteful. I can deal with it."

"Thank you, you're a treasure. Are there presents you want that I can offer as tribute?"

"Keep him alive until he gets all fingers," she says, gesturing towards Itadori with her head.

“Rest assured, I’ll do my very best,” says Gojo, who bows with sincerity and everything.

Then he bounces back up, grin back on his face.

“Next! Ijichi, if anyone wonders why you’re slightly more nervous and jumpy than usual, feel free to say I ranted about killing you for this whole affair, and made some threats. And go about your day like everything is normal.”

"That's not even a lie," he mutters to himself.

“The truth makes a better lie than making something up!” he says cheerfully. “Okay kiddo, we’re relocating to somewhere secret. Ish. This will be disorienting.”

"...what, are we teleporting?"

“Basically!” He reaches out and grabs hold of Tokan’s shoulder, and.

Now he is lying on a couch in a dark room. It didn’t even feel like anything, it just happened. Gojo hums and turns on the nearby light. Itadori is in a small, sparse, and a little bit dusty living room, with an attached kitchenette.

“So for safety reasons you do need to stay on campus, but fortunately with how sorcerers have been playing elaborate shadow wars for centuries, there are about a dozen little weird rooms nestled away. That I know of. There’s probably actually more.”

"—wait did we actually teleport I never knew you could do that!!"

"Eh, it gets really old really quickly, so I don't do it all that often. Like marathoning math equations. It's not even an interesting problem, just tedious." He starts investigating the cabinets to see what they have in them; they're empty except for some dead bugs and dust bunnies.

"Great. I get to go food shopping," he sighs. "Any of your old things you really want to keep? I think the policy is still to donate spare clothes and stuff from the deceased, it shouldn't be too hard to pick out anything special to you."

"Not... really. I was pretty much just wearing uniforms, when Sukuna didn't decide to just rip them off anyway."

"Oh, that'll make it easier. I'll go clothes shopping for you when I'm buying your food. Food preferences? You'll be doing all your own cooking, so." He gets out his phone and starts casually typing out a text message.

He can produce some preferences. Not like he's unused to cooking for himself; he's been doing it for years.

Gojo makes a note of them (on his phone) and then says, "Hold tight, maybe look around and get comfortable. I'll be back in a bit with some training tools that are good for self study."

And then he disappears. Rather literally. He was there, and now he isn't.

Showoff.

He does look around, though, for lack of anything better to do.

........also he wants his phone back, he should ask about that later.

This place appears to be an underground apartment - it smells a bit more earthy than normal, and there are no windows to speak of. There's a bedroom that's a little bit more spacious than the one he had in the dormitory, and an attached bathroom with functioning plumbing. In the living room, there's a television with a DVD player, the couch he landed on, an empty bookshelf, and not much else. It's a little past 'minimalism' and into 'spartan,' or perhaps 'depressing.' But there's a fridge, an oven, a rice cooker, and a microwave, so that's nice. He could definitely live down here comfortably, if not perhaps pleasantly.

Eh. It's fine. Tsuyoku naritai and all that shit, he'll be out of here in two shakes.

After about a quarter of an hour, Gojo returns! He uses the stairs this time, and even knocks.

"I have your training materials," he singsongs, setting two large plastic boxes in front of the couch. On top of the boxes is a small plush bear with large blue boxing gloves on its hands.

"Thank you, Sensei! Why does it have boxing gloves, Sensei!"