Suguru made it back to his dorm, gathered a change of clothes, and headed into the showers. 

Before he even entered the space, Suguru could hear the applause of water echoing off the tiles inside. 

He stiffened. 

Pausing only for a moment, he banished any rigidness that had seized his limbs, and pushed through the door to walk inside.

He stripped and discarded his uniform to the side in a plastic bag, wrapping it up so that none of the blood could escape and soil the floor. He put his clean set of clothes in one of the woven baskets on the cubby wall, and made his way into the shower room.

The shower room was literally a room of open showers, the faucets lined up across three walls, the gray tile beneath Suguru's feet cold and hard to the touch. 

The whispers of running water and the gurgling of it being sucked down the drains persisted, and on the far wall, he saw Satoru scrubbing himself up with a washcloth. The boy paused, and then turned around, beaming.

"Enjoying the view?" He teased.

Suguru rolled his eyes.

"Hardly," he replied plainly. He joined Satoru on the far wall, three showers over. "Don't even think about peeking again, unless you really wanna die."

"Why? You saving yourself for Little Miss Curse Magnet over there?" Satoru scoffed.

Suguru smirked.

"Why do you ask?" He hesitated before he turned the knob, and a burst of hot water sprayed his broad chest. 

Had he not steeled himself beforehand, he would have flinched. 

He could feel the water melting off the blood that had caked to his body. It slowly dissolved, the red water dripping down his muscled legs before swirling down the drain. 

"Jealous?" Suguru added, managing to press the tease through his lips.

Satoru let out a string of laughter, his voice echoing off the tiles. He rinsed off the suds that clung to his skin, ducking his head under the showerhead for a moment before flicking the water off. He wrung the washcloth dry and slung it over a broad shoulder, turning towards Suguru with a hand on his hip.

"As if I'd be jealous over a brat," he sneered, mocking some retching noises. "She's all yours."

Suguru chuckled, dipping his head beneath the stream of hot water. He held his breath as the sound of the water raged against his ears, and he pulled his head back out before the paralysis could snag him.

"If you insist," he mused.

Suguru continued his shower, shampooing his hair twice to make sure all of the blood and dried ooze had been purged from his scalp. He made an effort to concentrate on Satoru's ramblings.

"Sensei is waiting for you in the classroom," Satoru said, his voice echoing from the changing room. "He's been updated on everything."

"I assumed so," Suguru replied, combing some conditioner into his long hair with his fingers. "I was gonna head over there afterwards anyway."

Satoru let out a laugh.

"You didn't tell her anything, did you?"

"Hell no," Suguru said, moving onto the body wash next. 

He lathered the soap in his hands and then used the thick suds to cleanse his arms, the length of his chiseled torso, his blood-smeared legs that the water had carved through with little veins of clean skin. 

The hot water felt amazing over his strained muscles, feeling the knots ease up a little as the steam rose into the air like wisps of smoke. 

If only he could cut off his ears. 

"She asked if I had done an exorcism, but she came to that conclusion herself, and I neither confirmed nor denied it."

"Wow. Smart cookie," Satoru said. 

Suguru could practically see his eyes roll, and he cracked a smile.

"She's very sharp," he told him, rinsing out the conditioner in his hair now. "Intuitive, observant."

"Please list off more synonyms for me," Satoru groaned. "I'm so invested."

Suguru chuckled, finally switching off the water. 

He wrung his body of loose droplets, and grabbed the towel he had brought and draped over the divider. He patted his face dry, and then went along the length of his muscle-clad body. 

Lastly, he swaddled his hair in the towel, rubbing the soft cloth into his scalp until he figured his hair was dry enough. Slinging the towel over a toned shoulder, Suguru made his way back towards the changing room, relieved of the silence that now reverberated throughout the tiled room.

"I'm guessing she's stable?" Satoru asked as he entered, sitting on one of the benches lined up in the middle of the room.

Suguru froze, and then flashed him a little smirk.

"Now you're worried?"

Satoru frowned, averting crystalline eyes.

"It was just a question," he muttered, white lashes half-hooded.

Suguru smiled, and reached into the cubby to pull on a pair of dark sweats.

"Shoko says that she'll have to stay for another few days," he said. 

Suguru flexed his sore, muscular back, rotating his shoulder in a circle, and then tossed his towel onto the empty bench behind him; he reached for his oversized crewneck next. 

"Just so that she can make sure the poison and sepsis are gone."

Satoru rested his chin in his palm, his elbow propped up on his knee. 

He sighed.

"That's a relief," he said. "That's Shoko for you. Always there to save the day."

Suguru shrugged over the sweater, pulling the hem over hardened, defined abs.

"Isn't that your role?" Suguru teased. "Or are you finally admitting humility?"

Satoru stuck out his tongue.

"Never."

Suguru chuckled, patting his hand onto his friend's shoulder as he walked by, the plastic bag that held his soiled clothes tied up and hanging from a fingertip.

"Thanks for your help today. Rest up."

Suguru could see Satoru's pale jaw tense, and as he hesitated with his next step forward, a low voice sounded from the base of Satoru's throat.

"You saw, didn't you?" Satoru said, almost growling. "The scars on her body."

Suguru froze in place. His eyes narrowed, clenching his teeth, balling up a fist at his side.

"Don't say anything," his voice dropped to a whisper. "That's for her to disclose. She's gone through enough already, she doesn't need to relive anything if she doesn't want to."

Satoru only responded with a dismissive "tch," and Suguru made his way out of the dorms after dropping off his dirty clothes, heading towards the education building.

The night was crisp, the trees hissing as the wind tousled them around, the grass chirping with crickets. Overhead, the stars had blanketed themselves across the velvety night sky, the crescent moon ashen and ghostly with the wispy clouds draping over it like a veil. Everything was drenched in moonlight, rendering the shadows a few shades darker than normal.

Suguru reached the classroom that sat across Yaga's office, and he reached out long fingers to hook onto the side of the sliding door, pushing it open.

A burly man, dressed in a black tracksuit, was positioned leaning against the front desk, his arms folded over his well-built chest. He wore a pair of sunglasses, even though it was clearly nighttime, and his gaze was pinned to the ground in front of him. 

Even when Suguru entered, sliding the door shut behind him, Yaga didn't move a muscle.

"Sensei," Suguru murmured, shoving his hands into his pockets. "You wanted to see me?"

"Report the casualties," Yaga commanded, and Suguru just sighed.

"Unconfirmed. By the time Satoru and I got inside, Hina-chan seemed to be the only one left alive."

"Estimates?"

Suguru pondered for a bit, twisting his lip and sliding his eyes to the side.

"If there was at least one person in each unit," he said. "I'd say eleven at the minimum."

Yaga let his head fall backward, tilting it up towards the ceiling.

"What's the damage to infrastructure?"

"Minimal," Suguru reported. "It was an incomplete domain, so we contained it to one complex. We didn't even use a veil."

Yaga peered an eye over his glasses.

"So what was it?" His voice was low, testing.

Suguru merely blinked. The image of scars on pale flesh flashed across his mind, and he tightened his hands up into fists at his sides.

"It was a curse manifested by violence and despair. It was quite gory, and it smelled like shit."

"Is it in your possession now?"

"Of course."

Yaga paused for a brief moment, and then rocked up onto his heels.

"You are to comb the area for any Special Grade items or recent violent crimes tomorrow. I'm sure you're just as curious as to why such a strong curse would suddenly appear in a residential neighborhood."

Suguru grunted in agreement, and Yaga sighed.

"You did good today, Suguru."

The boy raised an eyebrow, peering up at his teacher with a single, narrowed eye, the other closed shut.

"Stop that, sensei. Praise isn't your style. It's kinda creepy, actually."

"A life is a life," Yaga continued, ignoring his student. 

Suguru let out a breath, and leaned back on his heels. 

"Even if it was just one, that's one more person who gets to live another day." Yaga let the silence brew for a moment.

Suguru chewed on his lip, studying the wood grains on the floor planks.

"She needs another few days in the medical ward. What will the higher ups say about a non-sorcerer being treated on campus?"

"Let me deal with them," Yaga said simply. "Just go back and rest. You must be exhausted."

Suguru bent into a slight bow, and then exited the classroom, closing the door shut behind him. He crossed the courtyard and made a beeline towards the medical ward, pushing through the double doors and hearing his tabi shoes click against the sterile tiles. He reached the room, and turned to face the open threshold.

"Ah, Geto," Shoko said, rising from a chair she had dragged into the corner. "You're back."

Suguru nodded at her and approached the bed that Hina lay upon, sound asleep, now dressed in a hospital gown, her cheeks glowing with a hint of color. 

The sight of it brought the smallest of smiles to his face.

"You're quite emotional today," Shoko pointed out plainly. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes, tapping the bottom of it onto her palm as she exchanged her look from Suguru, to Hina, and back to Suguru again. "It's not like you at all."

"Things have been...difficult." The boy paused before continuing. "Ever since Riko-chan."

Shoko sighed, resting a hand on her hip, the other clutching the pack of cigarettes with limp fingers.

"You can't blame yourself for that forever, Geto," Shoko said. "Toji planned everything from the start. You did your best."

"That's the point, Shoko," Suguru whispered as he walked over to the foot of the bed, leaning on his arms and dipping his head. "Jujutsu sorcerers exist to protect the weak. So what's the point if my best isn't good enough?"

Shoko was quiet for a moment, and then made her way over to the large window that sat on the side of the room. She slid the pane open, and then turned around to offer the cigarettes.

"Want one?"

Suguru hesitated, his eyes flickering to Hina's figure, but then shifted his weight back onto his heels and took the spot next to his classmate by the open window. 

He hasn't smoked in months.

Shoko tapped out a cigarette, handed it to Suguru, and then tapped out another one. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a lighter, flicking it so that the small orange tongue of flame ignited and sizzled.

"Gojo has been depressed lately, too," Shoko started, and the statement baffled him. 

She held the flame under the tip of his cigarette for a moment, letting it glow orange for a bit as Suguru took a few heavy drags, and then went to light the one between her own lips. She puffed a few long breaths, and then exhaled a thick plume of smoke through the open window. 

"I'm sure he thinks the same as you do with yourself—that he failed as a jujutsu sorcerer for letting someone die under his watch."

Suguru pulled from his cigarette, feeling the smoke warm his lungs, and exuded out a breath.

"We talked a little earlier," he said. "After the incomplete domain was settled with. It was the first time we had talked in a while."

"Yeah," Shoko said, taking a puff from her cig. "I've noticed. You two have some issues to iron out."

Suguru glared at Shoko with a side eye, but brought up his cigarette for another inhale.

"Satoru seemed to have gotten over it pretty quickly, though. And that doesn't surprise me. That day was kind of an awakening for him, anyway."

"That doesn't mean he hasn't been suffering, though," Shoko added, exuding out another cloud of smoke. "He faced defeat that day too, and he almost died because of it."

"He's Gojo Satoru," Suguru said bitterly. "The first in his line to possess both the Limitless and the Six Eyes in centuries. He will persist. No matter how you look at it, he's destined for greatness one way or another."

"And what makes you think you're not?" Shoko asked.

Suguru fell silent, breaking the quiet with another drag from his cigarette.

"There's a ceiling to my abilities," he muttered scornfully. "My parents are both non-sorcerers. I don't have any inherited techniques. I worked for my status, and even then, I feel as though it's come to the point where hard work and natural genius can't keep up with one another anymore."

Shoko blew out another plume of smoke.

"Why do you have to be the strongest, Geto?" She murmured.

Suguru tightened his lips into a thin line.

"So I can protect everyone I want to protect." His gaze flickered to Hina, who remained in a peaceful slumber on the bed. 

His chest tightened.

"But do you have to be the strongest for that?" Shoko pushed. "Can't you be happy with how far your skills have taken you? You and Gojo have always been a team. What's changed?"

Suguru's jaw strained, his eyes hardening as he gazed off into the night sky, studying the silvery light of the moon that draped everything in its ashen veil.

"I don't know," he finally said, barely above a whisper.

"Don't you?" Shoko chuckled, her voice low, challenging. "Or do you not want to know?"

The two teammates leaned against the windowsill in extended silence, smoking the rest of their cigarettes until the ash crept up against their fingers. 

Suguru ambled over to a side table and smashed the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray, and Shoko soon followed suit. Suguru took the seat that had been nestled into the corner of the room, where he could have a view of Hina in the medical bed. 

He watched as her face remained still, peacefully still, her rhythmic breaths calming him the longer he admired her.

Shoko sighed.

"What did sensei say to you?"

Suguru leaned his arms over his knees, his gaze remaining on the girl's sleeping figure.

"About what?"

"The whole curse situation," Shoko said, waving her hand in the air. "And about Makino-chan."

Suguru knit his fingers together and fiddled with them, twisting his lips into a slight frown.

"I need to go investigate the crime scene tomorrow," he said after a few moments of silence. "It was a first-grade curse, and it's been bugging me about how it just showed up out of nowhere—sensei knew that. He's thinking it's either the presence of a Special Grade item, or maybe some violent crimes." Suguru hesitated. "Based on the state of Hina-chan's body though, my money is on the latter."

Shoko leaned against the wall beside Suguru, her arms folded lightly across one another.

"And the Council?"

"Sensei will take care of it," he replied. "I've got everything under control."

Shoko let out an airy laugh.

"Of course you do. You are Geto Suguru, after all."

The boy scoffed, a small smile cracking the sternness of his face. Shoko placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, patting it as she balanced back onto her feet.

"I'll be in the office down the hall. Call me if anything happens."

The wide heels on Shoko's platform loafers clicked past Suguru as she made her way out of the room, her uniform lingering with the scent of smoke. He crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to pry his eyes off of Hina's sleeping figure, the low hum of machines and equipment buzzing deep within his eardrums.

Eventually, Suguru made the walk back to his dorm after announcing his departure to Shoko in her office, his shoes crunching against the gravel that blanketed the courtyard and passing the massive pagoda that sat nearby. The moon was now suspended directly overhead, high in the night sky—he'd lost track of time.

He finally reached his room and shut himself inside, setting his tabi shoes neatly against the ledge of his genkan, and immediately pulling his crewneck over his head to reveal a set of intensely defined abs and a bulky chest, his arm muscles rippling as he stretched them back. 

He tossed the sweater on the old wooden chair that was positioned off-center at his desk, and then realigned the waistband of his sweats over his hips, the heathered gray material draping over his lower body as it snagged onto his protruding hip bones.

He let out a long, exhausted sigh.

Suguru climbed into bed and pulled the covers over his nose, curling up beneath it as he closed his eyes as an attempt to fall asleep.

☾

Suguru woke up earlier than he had expected. The sky was still dark, the dusty, periwinkle whispers of dawn still trembling in the night's shadows. 

His alarm hadn't even gone off yet.

After laying in bed for several minutes, wide awake, Suguru decided to roll off and plant his feet onto the cold floor. 

He aggressively pulled on the sweater he had tossed aside on his chair last night and made his way to the dorm bathroom, where he brushed his teeth, washed his face, and brushed through his long dark hair before putting it up into a half-updo bun. 

He stared into the mirror for a moment, leaning against the sink, studying the dark half-moons under his eyes, the hollowing of his cheeks, before pivoting on his heel and exiting the bathroom.

After returning to his room, his alarm still hadn't gone off, and so he dropped onto the edge of his bed and sighed, burying his face into his hands. He stretched his neck from side to side, eliciting crisp pops to crack from his stiffened spine, reaching his hand up to dig long fingers into the tender muscles that swaddled it.

As his eyes blinked open, they caught onto one of the top drawers in his desk, and after staring at it for a moment, Suguru ran a hand over the top of his head. 

He rocked onto his feet and took two short steps towards his desk, pulling open the drawer to reveal a half-empty box of cigarettes and a lighter. He snatched them up, and then made his way over to his dorm window, sliding the pane open and letting the coolness of the morning nip at his cheeks. 

He tapped out a cigarette, placing the end between his lips and then flicked on the lighter. He lit the cig, taking short, deep puffs and breathing orange embers to life. 

Releasing the lighter and tossing it onto the foot of his bed, he took a long drag from the cigarette, and then exhaled thick smoke out the window.

It truly had been a while since he'd last smoked. 

He and Shoko promised each other that they would quit, but of course, Shoko relapsed quicker than he had. Suguru held steady for a while, but after what happened with Riko, he relapsed for a bit before deciding against it once more.

Last night was the first time he had taken it back up again in months, but considering the circumstances, he couldn't beat himself up too much about it.

Amanai Riko, the Star Plasma Vessel who was due to assimilate with Tengen-sama as their new body, was murdered before his very eyes. He had failed to realize Toji had even entered their proximity, and thus, failed to protect her. 

Every night, he had flashes of that moment, the moment where he had almost convinced her to reject Tengen-sama's order to assimilate, and live longer as her own person, to continue her own life just a little bit longer. 

He could see her eyes in those nightmares, so lively and full of promise one moment, and in the next, cold and dull and so very dead. 

He could see the blood again, soaking into the ripped headband that lay tattered on the ground, and witness the limpness of her still body that fell like a ragdoll onto the floor. 

Those nightmares haunted him every night, the backdrop of applause growing ever more present until he jolted awake.

And last night was no exception.

Another puff of smoke exuded from his lips, his fingers shaking as the ash crept up closer towards his fingers. Suguru stared wide-eyed into the forest, the tendons in his jaw protruding from beneath his pale skin, a thin veil of sweat beginning to form over his face. 

His body felt weak from the lack of sleep, but his mind was already very much awake.

How could he allow himself rest when he had let himself make such a detrimental mistake? 

This death was his burden to bear, and his alone. It was his punishment for being so lax, for becoming too confident in his abilities. 

And despite what Satoru and Shoko had told him, there was this gaping hole in his chest that gnawed at him, revealing his soul to be chewed up and consumed by this overwhelming sense of guilt. 

What kind of Special Grade sorcerer would allow a mission to fail so miserably?

A fraud. He was most certainly a fraud.

And then Makino Hina showed up. 

She radiated the same innocence, the same quality of virtue that Riko had. They were both so blissfully unaware of the curses that blighted this world, so in need of protection, and it was a strange breath of fresh air for Suguru; he had devoted his whole being to serving the populace, and wove duty into his mind as a piece of thread would in a quilt. 

Every day, he had drilled into himself that this was his role, this was what he was responsible for as a jujutsu sorcerer. He was gifted with a power so fearsome, the Council had deemed him Special Grade, and he intended to dedicate everything he was to protect those who were unable to themselves.

He had prepared to die for them, for strangers who would never know his world, his suffering, his pain.

But what was the point? 

Why would he protect the weak when they were the source of all the suffering that they needed protection from? Wouldn't it be better to erase them completely, and take their curses with them?

Suguru took another long drag from his cigarette, the ash now hot against his skin. 

He flicked the butt into the dirt and exhaled his last plume of smoke, shutting the window closed as his phone lit up and sang his daily morning melody; he ambled over to the nightstand and turned the alarm off. 

He peeled off his casual clothes and dumped them into his hamper set beside his desk, running his hands across his muscly body as an attempt to loosen the knots as he walked over to his closet to pluck off a fresh uniform from the hangers.

He tugged on the clothes and then approached his nightstand once more. He tucked his phone into his pocket and headed out towards the genkan, pulling on his tabi shoes and shutting the door behind him. 

As he exited the dorm building, he thought to himself how cool morning air felt comfortable against his skin, and how he dreaded the humid Tokyo heat that would eventually envelop him later that afternoon.

As Suguru passed the medical ward, his eyes lingered on the double doors, his gait faltering as his mind questioned whether he should stop by to say his good mornings at least. But he convinced himself otherwise, and made his way to the long driveway that led out of campus.

Let her rest, she needs it, he told himself.

Rei was waiting for him by a black sedan, yawning as he brought a hand up to cover his outstretched mouth.

"Good morning, Geto-san," he greeted him.

"Morning, Rei-san," Suguru replied. "Sleep well?"

"Never," the manager scoffed. He ran a hand through his short black hair, scratching the back of his head. "Yaga-san uses me like a damn workhorse."

Suguru cracked the tiniest of smiles.

"Something to look forward to in my future, huh?"

Rei chuckled.

"Don't be an adult. It's a scam."

Suguru let out a light laugh, approaching the car and pulling open a door. He climbed into the back seat, Rei following his lead as he slid into the driver's side.

"I'm going back to Setagaya," Suguru said as the young man clicked his seatbelt in place. "Don't wait for me. I have some stuff to do, so I'll call you when I'm done."

Rei only nodded, and then sped off down the hill and towards the city.

After a brief drive, Suguru exited the car and waved as Rei drove off, leaving him on the side of a nearly empty road, the disheveled apartment complex looming ominously before him once more, yellow caution tape decorating its perimeters as though they were party streamers. 

Managers and some other Jujutsu High staff were here last night, probably to work with the police to secure the area. Some of the managers, dressed in identical black suits, still lingered around the property with a few police officers, their patrol cars parked to the side.

A pair of managers spotted Suguru as he approached the scene. They bowed to him, and Suguru returned the greeting.

"Good morning, Geto-san," one of the men said. "I'm assuming Yaga-san sent you?"

"Yes," Suguru said, his voice monotone. "Any updates?"

"There seems to have been a build up of immense cursed energy in this one building," the other manager reported, holding up a clipboard and adjusting his glasses. "And we pinpointed it to a single unit. We believe that it was collected over a long period of time, and then a catalyst event triggered the formation of the first-grade curse."

Suguru tightened his jaw.

It was common knowledge among jujutsu society that curses were created by the collection of cursed energy, generated by negative emotions from the masses. But these curses typically spawned in public areas where a number of negative memories and emotions were collected, like schools, hospitals, or graveyards. 

Residential areas were rarely spaces where curses would develop, unless it was a particularly bad neighborhood. This neighborhood in Setagaya, however, seemed as normal as any other, which puzzled Suguru even more so.

"Which unit?" Suguru asked, though he already seemed to know the answer, based on where Satoru had traced the curse yesterday. 

And yet, there was this sense of denial that tapped at the back of his head, grinding against his skull like a fingernail, hoping that he was wrong somehow. 

His hands clenched inside his pockets.

"206," the spectacled manager said, reading the number off his clipboard. Suguru's stomach dropped. "There is a massive trail of residual cursed energy flowing from there. All the other units were clean for the most part. I would suggest focusing your attention on that particular one."

Suguru cursed under his breath, but turned to the two managers with a blank, stoic expression.

"Thank you for your help," he said to them. "I'll be getting started now."

"Understood," the two managers said.

Suguru ducked beneath the caution tape and headed into the complex, already feeling the residual cursed energy enveloping him like some sort of malicious smoke.

Hina-chan suffered here, he thought to himself. 

He thought of the scars that dotted her chest, the lacerations that marred her thighs, the bruises that mottled her skin. 

He remembered the tears on her face by the riverbed, how puffy and swollen her eyes were, and yet, she had been so unbelievably kind that he didn't suspect a thing. 

Today was the first day I managed to get out of the apartment in weeks, she had told him. 

At the time, he had just assumed that she was depressed, which wasn't an issue per se, but upon the discovery of her injuries, something was tugging in the back of his mind. 

Something didn't quite add up, and it nagged him to no end. 

He grit his teeth, raising his eyes to look at the window on the far right of the building, sitting on the second floor, still wide open.

What happened?

. • ° ✰ ° • .

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