Snowy Night

The assessment results arrived ten days later.

That was four days earlier than the two-week deadline Yamamoto had given him. After receiving the thick letter, Suguru Geto sat beneath a tree on the hill behind the school and looked at it.

The envelope bore the seal of the Jujutsu Association.

He opened the letter.

The first page held the conclusion, printed at the very top in bold, one font size larger than the text below.

"Suguru Geto's standing as a Special Grade Sorcerer remains unchanged. Effective immediately, he is suspended from all missions for a period of three months. At the end of this period, the results of a follow-up assessment will determine whether his eligibility for missions will be reinstated."

Three months.

Suguru Geto turned the page and looked at the second one. It contained a detailed breakdown of the assessment data, packed with figures and charts. He skimmed it without reading closely. The third page was the "Recommendations" section, listing the association's requirements during his suspension: he was not to leave Jujutsu High or engage in intensive cursed energy training, and he was to submit a weekly report on his physical condition and undergo a monthly reassessment.

The fourth page contained only one paragraph, printed at the very bottom in a font one size smaller than the preceding text.

"Mr. Suguru Geto, the association is deeply concerned about your physical condition. If your cursed energy core has not returned to normal after three months, the association will reconsider whether you may retain your standing."

Suguru Geto folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope. For three months, he could not take missions, leave Jujutsu High, or do anything at all. He could only wait. Wait for the egg to keep growing, for his cursed energy core to keep deforming, for the reassessment results three months from now.

By the time Yu Haibara came running up the slope, Suguru Geto had put the letter away. Haibara carried two hot drinks, one coffee and one hot chocolate, which Kento Nanami had asked him to bring. Nanami's exact words had been, "It's too cold. Geto will freeze to death." When Haibara relayed the message, he added his own inflections, making it sound as though Nanami had delivered a lengthy speech.

Suguru Geto took the hot chocolate and had a sip. It was cloyingly sweet, the cocoa's bitterness completely buried beneath sugar and milk.

"Geto, what did the association say?" Haibara sat beside him, cradling the coffee without drinking it.

"A three-month suspension."

Haibara fell silent for a few seconds. "And after three months?"

"I don't know."

Haibara asked nothing more. He lowered his head and watched the steam rising from his coffee. The white vapor drifted up into the cold air and quickly dispersed.

"Geto," Haibara said, "whatever happens three months from now, I'll be here."

That evening, Suguru Geto went alone to Jujutsu High's old archive.

The archive was crammed with old books, reference materials, and documents, some dating back to the school's founding. Suguru Geto had been here before, when he was searching for information on the Soul-Splitting Technique. Now he had come to look for something else.

He was searching for records of a cursed technique called the Soul-Sealing Technique. He had heard of it in his memories of the future, but had never seen it firsthand. When someone's soul was threatened, the Soul-Sealing Technique could lock it deep within their body, beyond the reach of any outside force.

He did not know why he was looking for it. Perhaps it was because Satoru Gojo had said the egg inside him might be connected to his soul. Or perhaps he wanted to leave himself a way out. If he was no longer himself after the egg hatched, the Soul-Sealing Technique might help him preserve some part of who he was.

There was no heating in the archive. Suguru Geto wore a thick coat with his scarf wrapped twice around his neck, but he was still cold. His hands were stiff from the chill.

After searching for about an hour, he found something interesting: a handwritten notebook with "Record of Cursed Energy Mutation Cases" on its cover. The author's name was unfamiliar, and it was dated forty years earlier. Suguru Geto opened it to the first page. The contents listed over a dozen cases. Each recorded an abnormal mutation in a jujutsu sorcerer's cursed energy. Some had suddenly grown stronger, others weaker, and some had undergone a fundamental change in nature.

He turned to the seventh case.

"Case seven: Special Grade Sorcerer, male, thirty-two years old. Following a mission involving a special grade cursed spirit, the nature of his cursed energy mutated. At the same time, his total cursed energy increased threefold over three months. The subject claimed that 'something had appeared inside his body.' Detailed examinations failed to determine the nature of this 'something.' After three months, the subject's cursed energy core began to deform. After six months, the subject lost consciousness and entered a coma. After one year, the subject died. Cause of death: collapse of the cursed energy core."

Suguru Geto's fingers stopped on the page.

Every word seemed to describe him.

He turned the page, hoping to see whether there was more to the case, but the next page was blank. The record of case seven ended there. No follow-up, no conclusion, no solution. Only a date written at the very bottom of the blank page: March, Showa 42.

Forty years ago. That person had died forty years ago.

Suguru Geto closed the notebook, returned it to the shelf, and kept searching.

After roughly another hour, he found a second notebook on the lowest shelf. There was no title on the cover, only a surname: "Nakajima." Suguru Geto opened it to the first page. The handwriting was sloppy, as though it had been written in great haste.

"It is now June, Showa 42. I have been locked in this room for three months. The people from the association say I'm a special case, that my cursed energy mutation is unprecedented and they need time to study it. Every day, they draw my blood, measure my cursed energy, and ask how I feel. I don't feel well. My cursed energy core is deforming, as though something inside is pushing its way out. I know I don't have much longer to live."

Suguru Geto's hands began to shake. Not from the cold.

He turned to the second page.

"That thing is growing. I can feel it. It isn't a cursed spirit, or a curse, or anything I know. It's eating my cursed energy, using it to nourish itself. It's deep inside my core, like a seed."

A seed.

Suguru Geto's breath caught. He kept turning the pages.

The third page: "I asked a question today. I asked the people from the association what would happen to me if that thing kept growing. They didn't answer. But I saw the answer in their eyes. I will die."

The fourth page: "I've made up my mind. Rather than wait for that thing to tear me apart from the inside, I'll end it myself. The association won't let me die. They still want to study me. So I'll have to find an opportunity myself."

The fifth page was the last. It contained only one line, written in the center of the page. The handwriting was even messier than before, as though his hand could no longer hold the pen steady.

"If anyone finds this notebook, please remember: that isn't a cursed spirit. It is-"

The sentence was unfinished. The pen had drawn a long line beneath the final word, then stopped. Perhaps he had run out of time. Perhaps he had run out of strength. Perhaps he no longer wanted to write.

Suguru Geto closed the notebook and returned it to the shelf. He stood where he was, his head lowered.

Nakajima. Showa 42. Forty years ago, a Special Grade Sorcerer like him had returned from a special grade mission with something inside his body. His cursed energy had mutated, his core had deformed, and that thing had grown. The association had locked him up to study him, drawing his blood, taking measurements, asking, "How do you feel?" Then he had died.

Suguru Geto closed his eyes. He thought of the association's arrangements for him: a three-month suspension, no leaving Jujutsu High, weekly reports, monthly reassessments. The restrictions were not as severe as Nakajima's, but what if his reassessment results were bad after three months? What if that thing kept growing? What if his cursed energy core kept deforming? Would the association lock him up? Would they treat him the way they had treated Nakajima?

He did not know.

By the time he left the old archive, the snow had stopped. He slipped a hand into his pocket and touched the small knife Satoru Gojo had given him. The blade's chill seeped through his clothes against the outside of his thigh. He did not take it out, only touched it to make sure it was still there.

Then he started walking back to the dorm.

The next morning.

When Suguru Geto left the dining hall after breakfast, he saw Satoru Gojo leaning against a pillar by the entrance. He wore his black Jujutsu High uniform beneath a thick overcoat, sunglasses perched on his nose, both hands in his pockets.

"Geto," Satoru Gojo said, "got any plans today?"

"No. Why?"

"Come to the training grounds. I'll teach you something."

Suguru Geto glanced at him. "Teach me what?"

"You'll find out when you get there."

There was no one else at the training grounds. The ground was still wet and a little slippery underfoot. Satoru Gojo stood in the center with his arms folded, watching Suguru Geto approach.

"Geto, your domain is an open one, right?"

"Right."

"The advantage of an Open Domain is its range. The disadvantage is how much cursed energy it uses. Shoko only just pushed your cursed energy core back into place, so you shouldn't maintain a domain for long. You need a move that uses less energy."

Suguru Geto looked at him. "What do you want to teach me?"

"Not teach you. Remind you." Satoru Gojo removed his sunglasses and looked at Suguru Geto with his azure Six Eyes. "There's a feature of your Cursed Spirit Manipulation-you can use Maximum: Uzumaki to deal with most attacks without expanding your domain. But the last time you used Uzumaki in Gunma, you used a lot of cursed spirits all at once, didn't you? That consumes too much."

Suguru Geto knew what Satoru Gojo meant. When he had fought that special grade cursed spirit in Gunma, he had expended the power of many cursed spirits. Combined with the cost of Domain Expansion, it had nearly drained his cursed energy.

"You mean I should use fewer cursed spirits in Uzumaki?"

"It's not about reducing the number. It's about improving the quality," Satoru Gojo said. "You have a Semi-Special Grade Rainbow Dragon, a grade one Slit-Mouthed Woman, and plenty of others. You can draw on Rainbow Dragon's and Slit-Mouthed Woman's power separately. You don't have to mash all those cursed spirits together every time."

Suguru Geto was silent for a few seconds. Satoru Gojo was right. He had always relied on quantity to make up for a lack of quality. But his cursed energy was different now, more concentrated. He could produce stronger attacks with fewer cursed spirits.

"Give it a try," Satoru Gojo said.

Suguru Geto summoned Rainbow Dragon from his shadow. The silver-white dragon circled once in the air, then landed at his feet. He reached out, poured cursed energy into Rainbow Dragon's body, and guided the dragon's power into a single point. Rainbow Dragon opened his mouth and fired a beam of light. It struck the target at the far end of the training grounds, melting it without leaving so much as ash.

Satoru Gojo whistled.

"Not bad."

Suguru Geto stared at the melted target in silence for a few seconds. He had barely used any cursed energy. Rainbow Dragon's power had been efficiently converted into offensive force. The egg had not even pulsed. It had not absorbed enough cursed energy to trigger growth.

That afternoon, Suguru Geto wrote his weekly report in his dorm room.

The association required him to submit a weekly report on his physical condition, including cursed energy fluctuations, the state of his core, the egg's size, and "whether any abnormal sensations were present." He sat at his desk, pen in hand, looking at the blank report form. Cursed energy fluctuations: stable. Core condition: normal. Egg size: two fists. Any abnormal sensations: none.

He underlined "none," then stopped writing.

Abnormal sensations. I have them. But I won't write them down.

The sensation was difficult to describe. It was as though, deep within his consciousness, a voice was speaking in a more primal way-through images, emotions, and intent. He could not make out what it was saying, but he could feel its presence. It was always there, at the edge of his consciousness, becoming a little clearer as he drifted toward sleep and retreating into the distance when he woke.

He did not know what that voice was. He set down his pen, folded the report, and slipped it into an envelope. Tomorrow, he would give the letter to Masamichi Yaga, who would forward it to the association.

Once he had finished, Suguru Geto drew the curtains, lay down on his bed, and switched off the light. In the darkness, the egg's glow shone through the blanket, casting a hazy halo on the ceiling.

He closed his eyes.