Treatment

In the first week of January, Suguru Geto was suspended from duty.

Masamichi Yaga took a phone call. After hanging up, he sat in silence for a long time, then went to Suguru Geto's dorm room and knocked on his door.

"The Association wants you to rest for a while," Masamichi Yaga said, standing in the doorway without entering. "You won't be taking any missions for now."

Suguru Geto leaned against the doorframe and studied Masamichi Yaga's face. It looked weary and burdened.

"For how long?" Suguru Geto asked.

"They didn't say."

Suguru Geto nodded. "All right."

Masamichi Yaga looked at him, his lips moving as though he wanted to say something. In the end, he only patted his shoulder and turned to leave. Suguru Geto stood in the doorway, watching Yaga's back disappear around the corner of the hallway.

He closed the door.

The dorm room was quiet. The book on his desk still lay open. He had been staring at that same page for three days without taking in a single word.

He went to the window and drew back the curtains.

Sunlight flooded in, making him squint. On the training grounds, Yu Haibara and Kento Nanami were sparring. Haibara moved faster than before, and Nanami's defense had grown steadier. They traded blows, their shadows darting across the snow.

Suguru Geto watched them for a while.

Then he put on his coat and left his room.

The snow on the hill behind the school had yet to melt. The tree stood bare. Suguru Geto sat down against its trunk and took out the poetry collection, turning to the page he had read so many times.

"Geto."

Yu Haibara's voice came from below the slope. Suguru Geto didn't turn, only murmured an acknowledgment. Yu Haibara ran up and sat beside him.

Yu Haibara took two rice balls from his pocket and offered one to Suguru Geto. It was still warm, though the seaweed had softened a little. Suguru Geto accepted it and took a bite.

"Geto," Haibara said, "are you not allowed to go on missions lately?"

"That's right."

"Why?"

"The Association says I need to rest."

Haibara fell silent for a few seconds. "Is it because of that thing?"

Suguru Geto turned to look at him.

"Did Nanami tell you?" Suguru Geto asked.

"No. I guessed." Haibara lowered his head, looking at the rice ball in his hands. "You've been pressing your hand to your chest a lot lately. You never used to do that. I thought there might be something in there."

Suguru Geto didn't deny it.

"Geto," Haibara said quietly, "will it hurt you?"

Suguru Geto thought for a moment. "I don't know. Maybe it won't. Maybe it will."

Haibara fell silent. He took a bite of his rice ball and chewed slowly, taking a long time to swallow.

On January 4, Shoko Ieiri knocked on his door.

She held a document in her hand, her expression more serious than usual. She came in, placed it on the desk, then sat in the chair and crossed her legs.

"This is the report from your examination last week," she said.

Suguru Geto picked up the document and opened it. Dense figures and winding graphs filled the pages, and he couldn't make much sense of them. But he understood the conclusion on the last line: "Moderate deformation of the cursed energy core. Immediate therapeutic intervention recommended."

"What does therapeutic intervention mean?" he asked.

Shoko took the cigarette from her mouth and tapped it twice against the desk. "It means I try to force your cursed energy core back into its original shape."

"Can you do that?"

"I don't know. I've never tried." Shoko's voice was flat. "Yours is the first case. I have no references, no data, no prior experience to draw on. All I can do is try."

"What happens if it fails?"

Shoko was silent for a few seconds.

"Your cursed energy core could collapse."

Suguru Geto looked her in the eyes. "Shoko, what do you think the chances of success are?"

Shoko didn't answer immediately. She looked out the window for a while, then turned back.

"Thirty percent," she said.

Suguru Geto nodded in understanding.

"When do we start?" he asked.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Shoko frowned. "It's only thirty percent-"

"I'm sure," Suguru Geto said. "If we don't, that thing will keep growing. My cursed energy core will keep deforming. One day, it'll collapse. Rather than wait for it to collapse on its own, we might as well see if we can force it back."

Shoko stared at him for a long time. Then she stood, gathered the document, and walked to the door.

"Tomorrow afternoon at two. The infirmary." She didn't look back. "Don't be late."

January 5, two in the afternoon.

Suguru Geto arrived at the infirmary door on time. Shoko was already inside, wearing a white coat, a mask, and gloves, her hair tied back. Several machines stood beside the bed, colored lines pulsing across their screens. The smell of disinfectant hung in the air, stronger than usual.

"Lie down," Shoko said.

Suguru Geto lay on the bed. The cold sheet raised goosebumps across his back. Shoko attached several probes to his chest, arms, and neck, their other ends connected to the machines. The hum of the equipment sounded especially loud in the quiet room.

"This is going to hurt," Shoko said. "I'll give you an anesthetic, but it has limited effect on the cursed energy core."

"It's fine," Suguru Geto interrupted. "Let's start."

Shoko glanced at him and nodded. She picked up a syringe from the tray and inserted the needle into Suguru Geto's arm. The liquid flowed through his veins, spreading at his shoulder. His arm began to go numb, then his chest, then his whole body.

He began to sweat. His forehead, his back, his palms were all drenched. His fingers gripped the sheet, his knuckles turning white. He clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached.

Shoko's voice reached him from far away. "Hang in there."

The egg was resisting. It didn't want to be squeezed or pushed back into its original position. It wanted to keep growing, keep expanding, keep taking up more space. Its pulsing quickened, making Suguru Geto's chest vibrate along with it.

"Geto!" Shoko's voice grew more urgent. "Your cursed energy core is rejecting my cursed energy. I can't push it in!"

Suguru Geto gritted his teeth and reached out to the egg with his mind, as though stroking a frightened animal. Easy. Calm down. This won't hurt you. Just move back a little. Just a little.

The egg's pulsing slowed.

Its frantic throbbing settled into a slow pulse. It was hesitating, sensing Suguru Geto's mind. It was deciding whether to trust him.

Shoko's cursed energy pushed in.

The egg shrank little by little, and Suguru Geto's cursed energy core was pushed a little closer to its original position.

Then the egg stopped shrinking. It would retreat no farther.

Shoko withdrew her cursed energy. She took off her mask, her forehead covered in sweat.

"That's enough," she said. "We'll stop here for today."

Suguru Geto lay on the bed, gasping for breath. Sweat dripped from his forehead into his eyes, stinging enough to make him squint. He released the sheet, leaving several deep creases in it.

"Did it work?" he asked hoarsely.

"We're a third of the way there." Shoko wrote something on a sheet of paper. "Part of your cursed energy core has been pushed back. But you've used up too much cursed energy. Your body won't hold out if we keep going. We'll do it in two sessions. This was the first; the second will be in a week."

Suguru Geto closed his eyes. "What about the egg?"

"It's smaller," Shoko said. "It went from three and a half fists to three. Pushing your cursed energy core back compressed it a little too."

Three fists. Half a fist smaller than before. It wasn't much, but at least it hadn't kept growing.

He knew the egg wasn't his enemy. It was simply inside his body. Growing. Changing him. But it wasn't hurting him on purpose.

Shoko put away the equipment, removed the probes, and replaced the sheet with a fresh one. She went to the window and pushed it open, letting cold air rush in. Some of the disinfectant smell dispersed.

"Geto," she said without turning around, "it listens to you."

"It seems to."

"Why?"

Suguru Geto thought for a moment. "Because it knows me."

Shoko turned to look at him. "Knows what?"

"That I won't hurt it."

Shoko was silent for a few seconds, then nodded. She asked nothing more, only took a cigarette from her pocket, placed it between her lips, and lit it. Smoke drifted through the cold air before the wind quickly scattered it.

Suguru Geto sat up on the bed, put on his shoes, and stood. His legs were still a little weak, but he felt much better than when he had arrived. Then he left the infirmary.