The observer

In the second week of November, the Jujutsu Association's observers arrived.

There were three of them, two men and a woman, all wearing black suits with Jujutsu Association badges on their chests. They arrived at Jujutsu High at seven on Monday morning, just as the students finished breakfast and were getting ready for class.

Masamichi Yaga stood at the main gate, blocking their way.

"I told you, no one is allowed near my students in the name of an 'assessment.'" His voice was calm, but his tone brooked no argument.

The lead observer was a man in his fifties, with graying hair and a professional smile. He bowed to Yaga, then said, "Mr. Yaga, we aren't here to 'assess.' We're here to 'assist.' The Jujutsu Association simply wishes to gain a more comprehensive understanding of our Special Grade Sorcerers' condition so we can better allocate assignments and resources."

"Assist?" Masamichi Yaga's voice grew colder. "Assist with what?"

"Assist Mr. Geto with his assignments." The observer took a document from his briefcase. "The association has decided that, starting today, an observer will accompany Mr. Geto on every assignment. The observer will not interfere with its execution and will only record data and monitor his condition."

Masamichi Yaga took the document and glanced through it. It bore the Jujutsu Association's seal, the higher-ups' signatures, and all the necessary legal provisions. This was an official order, not something he could simply refuse.

He fell silent for a few seconds, then handed the document back.

"Suguru Geto has no assignments today," he said.

"Then we'll wait." The observer was still smiling. "We're very patient."

They were indeed very patient.

The three settled into Jujutsu High's guest rooms, disturbing no one and speaking to no one. They simply existed, like three nails driven into the school's walls, quietly, unobtrusively waiting.

Suguru Geto knew they were there. Everyone at Jujutsu High knew.

But he said nothing. He attended classes as usual, trained as usual, and traded barbs with Satoru Gojo as usual. His expression was exactly the same as always, betraying no emotion.

Only Satoru Gojo saw the emotion in his eyes.

On November 13, Suguru Geto received a new assignment.

The location was Isehara, a small city in Kanagawa Prefecture. The assignment: a Grade 2 Cursed Spirit was haunting an abandoned hospital, and two security guards had already gone missing. The Jujutsu Association had classified it as Grade 2 and assigned Special Grade Sorcerer Suguru Geto to handle it.

There was nothing wrong with the assignment itself. For a Special Grade, dealing with a Grade 2 Cursed Spirit was as simple as crushing an ant. But this assignment came with a condition: an observer would accompany him.

Suguru Geto stood at Jujutsu High's main gate, looking at the black official car. Beside it stood the woman from the observer team. She looked about thirty, with short hair, rimless glasses, and an expression as blank as a sheet of paper.

"Hello, Mr. Geto." She bowed slightly. "My name is Matsumoto. I'll be accompanying you today. I look forward to working with you."

Suguru Geto glanced at her without speaking, opened the car door, and sat in the back seat.

Matsumoto took the front passenger seat. The assistant supervisor started the car and drove out of Jujutsu High.

The car was quiet throughout the journey. Matsumoto did not speak to Suguru Geto, try to make friends, or do anything unnecessary. She simply sat there, holding a small device whose screen displayed data Suguru Geto could not see.

But Suguru Geto knew what the device was measuring. Cursed energy fluctuations. Body temperature. Heart rate. Every physiological and psychological indicator that could reflect a person's "condition."

He closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat.

Deep within his core, the fist-sized thing that resembled a shattered mirror gave a gentle pulse as it sensed the change in his emotions.

Suguru Geto soothed it with his mind.

It was like stroking a frightened animal. The thing responded, its pulsing slowing until it synchronized with Suguru Geto's heartbeat again.

The screen of the device in Matsumoto's hands flickered.

She glanced down at it and frowned slightly, but said nothing.

They arrived before long.

Standing at the hospital entrance, Suguru Geto followed his usual routine, releasing more than a dozen low-grade cursed spirits to scan the interior.

Matsumoto stood five meters behind him, quietly recording with the device in her hands.

The scan results soon came back. The cursed spirit was on the third floor, in the room at the end of the hallway. Its cursed energy fluctuations were stable, matching the characteristics of a Grade 2 Cursed Spirit. There was nothing unusual about the surroundings, no hidden traps, and no other cursed spirits.

Suguru Geto entered the hospital and went straight up the stairs.

Matsumoto followed, maintaining a distance of five meters. Her footsteps were light, but Suguru Geto could feel her presence. That feeling of being watched made him uncomfortable.

The third-floor hallway was darker than the floors below.

The door at the end of the hallway stood half open. Suguru Geto walked toward it.

The room was small and might once have been a patient room. Bed fixtures remained on the walls, and the window had been boarded shut, with only a few threads of light seeping through the gaps. A cursed spirit floated in the very center of the room.

It resembled a sphere of solidified darkness, its surface covered in fine, vein-like patterns that pulsed slowly.

Suguru Geto looked at it and was momentarily dazed.

In a sense, this cursed spirit resembled the thing inside his body. Both looked like some kind of life in gestation.

The difference was that the thing inside him was alive, while this cursed spirit was dead. It existed, but it had no consciousness.

Suguru Geto held out his hand.

[Cursed Spirit Manipulation].

Cursed energy poured from his palm, spreading over the cursed spirit like a net. The Grade 2 Cursed Spirit had no power to resist. It surrendered almost the instant it was touched. Compression, condensation, distortion-the cursed spirit was compressed into a black sphere that fell to the floor, rolled twice, and stopped at Suguru Geto's feet.

A Cursed Spirit Orb.

Suguru Geto bent down, picked it up, brought it to his lips, and swallowed.

It was quiet, barely struggling, merely sinking into the depths of darkness like a pebble settling to the bottom of a pool.

Suguru Geto closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Deep within his core, the fist-sized thing gave a gentle pulse the instant the cursed energy flooded in. It absorbed some of the Grade 2 Cursed Spirit's cursed energy-not much, but enough to let it grow a little more.

Suguru Geto opened his eyes, turned, and left the room.

Matsumoto stood in the hallway, holding the device as data flickered across its screen. Her expression was still blank, but Suguru Geto noticed that her brow was tightly furrowed.

"Mr. Geto," she said, "is the assignment complete?"

"It's complete." Suguru Geto walked past her without looking at her.

They left the hospital together, Matsumoto standing behind him and quietly recording.

"Miss Matsumoto," Suguru Geto said without turning around, "did you see what you wanted to see?"

Matsumoto was silent for a second.

"I did," she said evenly. "The instant you swallowed the Cursed Spirit Orb, your cursed energy exhibited an abnormal fluctuation. Its intensity exceeded the normal range."

Suguru Geto turned to look at her.

"What does that mean?" he asked.

Matsumoto adjusted her glasses, her expression still blank.

"I don't know," she said. "I'm only responsible for recording. Analysis is someone else's job."

Suguru Geto watched her for a few seconds, then nodded.

"Let's go," he said. "Take me back to Jujutsu High."

By the time they returned to Jujutsu High, it was almost dark.

Suguru Geto skipped the cafeteria and went straight to his dorm room. He needed to be alone, to sort through what had happened that day. The observer's presence, and what she had seen.

His cursed energy had exhibited an abnormal fluctuation the instant he swallowed the Cursed Spirit Orb. Its intensity had exceeded the normal range. That meant the thing inside his body was releasing some kind of measurable energy every time he swallowed a Cursed Spirit Orb.

The Jujutsu Association wasn't stupid. They had seen the data, so they had sent observers. They wanted to know what those abnormal fluctuations were, what was happening inside Suguru Geto's body, and whether he was still a safe Special Grade Sorcerer.

He knew he wasn't.

But he would not let them know that he knew.

A knock came at the door.

"Geto, are you in there?" It was Satoru Gojo's voice.

"I am."

Satoru Gojo pushed the door open, carrying two bags. He set one on the desk and said, "Curry. Shoko asked me to bring it to you. She said you skipped the cafeteria again today."

Suguru Geto glanced at the bag without speaking.

Satoru Gojo sat opposite him, opened his own bag, and took out a serving of curry. Rather than eating right away, he watched Suguru Geto for a long time.

"That observer today," he said. "What did she see?"

"She saw an abnormal fluctuation in my cursed energy when I swallowed the Cursed Spirit Orb," Suguru Geto said. "Its intensity exceeded the normal range."

"How big?" he asked.

"I don't know," Suguru Geto said. "She didn't give me the exact figures. But her expression told me it wasn't a small number."

Satoru Gojo fell silent.

He picked up his spoon and stirred the curry, but did not eat. He kept his head lowered, looking at the bowl.

"Geto," he said, "the Jujutsu Association might give you trouble."

"I know."

"They might restrict your assignments. They might even lock you up."

"I know."

"What do you think?"

"It doesn't matter anymore," Suguru Geto said. "You'll stand in front of me, won't you? My best friend."

Satoru Gojo froze for a moment, then smiled.

"Yes," he said. "I will."

He picked up his spoon and began eating his curry.

Suguru Geto picked up his spoon too.

They ate in silence. Once they finished the curry, Satoru Gojo stood, tossed the empty containers into the trash, picked up his bag, and headed for the door.

He stopped at the doorway.

"Geto," he said without turning around, "that observer's name is Matsumoto, right?"

"Yes."

"Her full name is Yuka Matsumoto. Thirty-five years old. Chief of the Jujutsu Association Investigation Department Third Section. Her cursed technique is [Datafication]: it converts cursed energy fluctuations into visual data. She's no ordinary observer. She's one of the Jujutsu Association's top analysts."

Suguru Geto stared at Satoru Gojo's back.

"How do you know all that?" he asked.

Satoru Gojo said evenly, "Cursed energy isn't the only thing I see."

Then he left.

The door closed softly behind him.

Suguru Geto sat on the bed, staring at the closed door. The curry's aftertaste still lingered on his tongue, spicy, warm, real.

Yuka Matsumoto. Thirty-five years old. Chief of the Jujutsu Association Investigation Department Third Section. Her cursed technique was [Datafication].

The Jujutsu Association had sent one of its top analysts to observe him.

What did that mean?

It meant they no longer suspected. They were certain. Certain there was something inside his body, certain it was changing him, certain he was a potential threat.

Suguru Geto closed his eyes and leaned against the wall.

Deep within his core, the fist-sized thing that resembled a shattered mirror pulsed quietly. Every pulse matched his heartbeat, like two drummers playing the same song. Cracks covered its surface, and light shone through them. That light was exactly like the light Satoru Gojo had described seeing when Riko Amanai died.

The light of a soul.

Whose light?

His?

Or that thing's?

Or both?

He remembered something.

In his memories of the future, after becoming a curse user, he had heard a theory: cursed energy was not born solely from negative emotions. It could also be born from memories. Those memories that were forgotten, discarded, washed clean by time did not disappear. Instead, they settled in some corner of the world and coalesced into something.

That kind of existence had no name.

Because everyone who had seen it had disappeared.

Suguru Geto did not know whether that theory had anything to do with the thing inside his body. But he knew one thing: he was becoming something that was not human.

He could only watch it grow, watch it change him, watch it slowly, irreversibly turn him into someone else.

Suguru Geto lay on his bed, listening to his own heartbeat, listening to that thing's heartbeat.

He closed his eyes.

Something glowed in the darkness. The light shone from his chest, through his skin, through his clothes, illuminating the entire room.

This time, it did not go unseen.

Yuka Matsumoto stood below the dormitory building, holding the device and watching the data flicker across its screen. Her expression was still blank, but her hands trembled slightly.

The data told her one thing.

The thing inside Suguru Geto's body had grown a little more that night.

And it was glowing.