Training

In the second week of October, Suguru Geto took on two missions in succession.

Both were Grade 2, both were solo assignments, and neither held any surprises. He subdued two cursed spirits and swallowed two Cursed Spirit Orbs. The nausea was the same as ever, and the thing inside his cursed energy core continued its slow pulsing.

Both cursed spirits were ordinary specimens, born from human fear and resentment, ugly in form, with nothing worth noting about them. Suguru Geto subdued them, compressed them, swallowed them, then tossed them into a corner deep within his consciousness like trash he had finished disposing of, giving them no further thought.

But the cursed spirit he had brought back from Tokorozawa was different.

It was not piled together with the other cursed spirits. It occupied a place of its own, close to the core of his consciousness, like a deliberately placed jewel. Suguru Geto did not know whether that was because it was special or because he himself had chosen to give it a special place.

There were no classes at Jujutsu High on their day off. Most students were either resting in their dorms or putting in extra practice at the training grounds. Suguru Geto wandered until he reached the cherry tree on the hill behind the school. By the time he realized it, he was already sitting beneath it, his back against the trunk, looking up at the sky.

He closed his eyes. Over the past two weeks, that thing had grown a little more, intertwining with his cursed energy.

Suguru Geto reached out to touch it with his consciousness.

This time, it responded faster. As though it had grown used to his touch, or was even waiting for it.

Another image.

A broad, black river. Its waters reflected a sky he had never seen before. That sky had no clouds, no stars, no sun, only an even light.

Someone floated above the river, barefoot and dressed in white, with long hair falling to his waist. A thin mist veiled his face, obscuring his features. But Suguru Geto knew who he was.

It was himself. His twenty-seven-year-old self. That version of him slowly turned around above the river.

The mist thinned a little, revealing a pair of eyes.

Those eyes were black. There was no light in them, no reflection, only a pure, absolute emptiness.

But those eyes were looking at Suguru Geto, straight at him, through consciousness, through time, through every barrier.

Suguru Geto snapped his eyes open.

His hands were trembling, and his back was drenched in cold sweat. He drew a deep breath, then another, letting his heartbeat slowly settle.

What was that?

Suguru Geto remembered what Satoru Gojo had said: "That thing inside your body is like a broken mirror." He also remembered the light Satoru Gojo had seen when Riko Amanai died.

Cracks, light, mirrors, a river.

Those images spun through his mind like fragments. And he was slowly merging with that presence.

"Geto!"

A voice came from down the slope, interrupting Suguru Geto's thoughts. He looked down to see Yu Haibara running up the hill with light steps, two bottles of drinks in his hands. He wore workout clothes, his hair was tousled by the wind, and his trademark smile was a little brighter than it had been a few weeks ago, though it had yet to regain all its former radiance.

"Haibara?" Suguru Geto watched him run up. "How did you know I was here?"

"Gojo told me!" Haibara sat down beside him, breathless, and handed him a drink. "He said you'd definitely be on the hill behind the school and told me to come find you."

Suguru Geto took the drink and glanced at it. It was his favorite brand. Satoru Gojo had remembered.

"Did you need something?" he asked.

Haibara opened his own drink, took a long gulp, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve, his expression growing a little more serious.

"Geto," he said, "I'd like you to help me train."

Suguru Geto raised an eyebrow. "Train?"

"Yeah." Haibara set his drink on the grass and turned to face Suguru Geto, his hands resting on his knees like a student making an earnest request. "I've thought a lot since the Zama mission. I know you and Gojo saved me. Without you two, I'd be dead."

His voice was calm. Suguru Geto noticed that his gaze remained steady as he spoke, neither wavering nor avoiding him. He was facing what had happened in a more mature, composed way.

"I don't want to be a burden to anyone again," Haibara said. "I want to get stronger. Strong enough to protect myself, strong enough to protect other people, strong enough that you won't have to take a blade for me again."

Suguru Geto looked at him in silence for a few seconds.

Then he smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile tinged with relief.

"All right," he said.

Haibara's eyes lit up. "Really?!"

"Really," Suguru Geto said. "But prepare yourself. My training won't be easy."

"I'm not afraid!" Haibara practically shouted. Then, realizing he had gotten too excited, he scratched his head sheepishly. "I mean, I'm not afraid of hard work. As long as it makes me stronger, I'll endure anything."

Suguru Geto nodded.

"Then we start tomorrow," he said. "Five in the morning, on the field."

"Five?!" Haibara's expression twisted for a moment, but his determination quickly returned. "Five it is! I'll be there!"

He stood, bowed to Suguru Geto, then turned and ran down the slope, calling as he went, "Thank you, Geto! I'll be on time tomorrow!"

Suguru Geto watched him go, the smile on his lips slowly fading.

Yu Haibara had changed. He had not grown weaker, but stronger. Not physically, but mentally. He had experienced fear, a brush with death, and the guilt of nearly getting someone else killed. Then he had chosen to face it rather than run away. He had chosen to grow stronger rather than give up.

This was different from the Haibara of the original timeline.

Originally, Haibara had died. He had never had the chance to face any of this, to choose, or to grow up.

Now he did.

October fifteenth, five in the morning.

Suguru Geto arrived at the field on time. Yu Haibara was already there, warmed up and standing beside the track, drenched in sweat. The moment he saw Suguru Geto, he straightened to attention.

"Good morning, Geto!"

Suguru Geto glanced at him. "What time did you get here?"

"Four thirty!" Haibara answered without hesitation. "I was worried I'd be late, so I came early."

Suguru Geto could not help shaking his head. When this kid got serious, he was more earnest than anyone.

"All right," he said. "We're not practicing hand-to-hand combat today. We're working on your cursed energy control."

Haibara blinked. "Cursed energy control?"

"You've relied on hand-to-hand combat and cursed tools on your missions, right?" Suguru Geto said. "Your cursed energy isn't weak, but you don't know how to use it. You only treat it as 'energy,' something to reinforce your body and power cursed tools. But cursed energy isn't just energy. It's also a weapon."

Suguru Geto held out his hand. A small, glowing sphere appeared in his palm, not a Cursed Spirit Orb, but a ball of pure energy he had condensed from his cursed energy.

"The foundation of cursed energy control is 'shape' and 'amount,'" Suguru Geto said. "How much cursed energy can you condense? What shape can you give it? How long can you keep it in the air? Those are all basics."

He tossed the energy ball into the air, then held it steady above Haibara's head.

"Today's goal," Suguru Geto said, "is to condense a ball of cursed energy the size of your fist, hold it ten centimeters above your palm, and keep it there for ten minutes."

Haibara looked at the glowing sphere overhead and swallowed.

"Ten minutes?"

"Ten minutes," Suguru Geto said. "If you can't do it, keep practicing until you can."

Haibara drew a deep breath, held out his hand, and began condensing his cursed energy.

On his first attempt, the cursed energy ball dispersed the instant it formed, like smoke scattered by the wind.

On his second attempt, the ball formed, but it was only the size of a marble and vanished after floating for less than ten seconds.

On his third attempt, the ball was a little bigger, but its shape was uneven, like a squashed orange.

A fourth attempt, a fifth, a sixth.

Suguru Geto stood beside him, watching Haibara try and fail again and again. He said nothing and offered no guidance. He simply watched. He knew that very little about cursed energy control could be taught through words. Most of it had to be felt and remembered by the body itself.

Haibara's hand was trembling. His cursed energy was rapidly draining, and his muscles were beginning to tire, but his gaze remained focused.

The seventh attempt.

Haibara held out his hand. Cursed energy poured from his palm, condensing, compressing, taking shape. A nearly perfect sphere the size of his fist appeared above his palm, glowing pale blue.

One second, two seconds, three seconds.

Ten seconds, twenty seconds, thirty seconds.

One minute, two minutes, three minutes.

Haibara's arm began to tremble, and sweat dripped from his forehead, but his eyes stayed fixed on the sphere, his lips pressed into a thin line.

At eight minutes, the sphere began to destabilize. Ripples appeared across its surface, like a bubble about to burst. Haibara gritted his teeth and poured more cursed energy into it, steadying it once more.

Nine minutes.

Ten minutes.

Haibara abruptly pulled his hand back. The sphere wavered in the air, then slowly dispersed. He bent over, gasping for breath.

"I... I did it!" His words came in fits and starts, but his voice was full of excitement.

Suguru Geto walked over and patted his shoulder.

"Not bad," he said. "Rest for ten minutes, then continue. Today, you're going to practice until you can do it three times in a row."

Haibara raised his head, his expression shifting from excitement to despair.

"Th-three times?!"

"Too many?"

"No, not at all! Not at all!" Haibara immediately straightened and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "I'll get right back to it!"

Suguru Geto watched him, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

Suguru Geto stood beside the track, watching Yu Haibara condense cursed energy balls over and over, fail over and over, and start again over and over.

There was a strange feeling in his heart.

It was not relief or satisfaction, but something more complicated, something like confirmation. Confirmation that Yu Haibara was still alive, that his choice had not been wrong, that he could change some things.

Even if he could not change everything.

Even if he could not change himself.

At least he had changed Yu Haibara's fate.

That evening, when Suguru Geto returned to his dorm room, he found an envelope outside his door.

It was not an official Jujutsu High envelope, but an ordinary white one, with no name or sender's information. It was unsealed, and a corner of a folded sheet of paper poked out.

Suguru Geto bent down, picked up the envelope, and drew out the letter.

The handwriting was neat, every stroke carefully formed, like calligraphy practiced countless times. But the message was short, just one line:

"Geto, thank you for saving my life. I'll spend my whole life repaying you. -Yu Haibara"

Suguru Geto stared at that line for a long time in silence.

Then he folded the letter, returned it to the envelope, opened the door, and entered his room. He set the envelope on his desk, leaned back in his chair, and looked up at the ceiling.

He remembered Yu Haibara's face, the boy sweating on the field as he gave everything he had to condense a cursed energy ball. He remembered the line Yu Haibara had written: I'll spend my whole life repaying you.

A whole life.

Those words carried a great weight. So great that Suguru Geto did not know how to respond.

Suguru Geto closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.

He did not reply to the letter.

Not because he did not want to, but because he did not know what to write. He wanted to write, "You don't need to repay me," but Haibara would not accept that. He wanted to write, "Staying alive is the best repayment you could give me," but Haibara might not understand.

He wrote nothing. He simply put the letter in his drawer, alongside the map of Zama City and his handwritten notes. They were all proof that he had changed fate, and part of the weight he carried.

The night deepened.

Suguru Geto lay in bed, listening to the wind outside his window. October nights were cooler than September nights, and the wind carried a slight chill. He tugged at his blanket, wrapping it more tightly around himself. He closed his eyes and slowly sank into sleep in the darkness. There were no dreams, no images, only darkness.

In that darkness, something was glowing.

A soft light shone from his chest, through his skin, through his clothes, illuminating the entire room.

But in the darkness, no one saw it.