Restrictions lifted

His house arrest ended early on Wednesday of the ninth week. When Kiryū knocked on his door that morning, he wasn't carrying a scanner, only a document. He handed it to Suguru Geto, said, "The Association's decision," then turned and left. No explanation, no small talk, not even a perfunctory "You're cleared." His footsteps receded down the hallway, then vanished. Suguru Geto stood in the doorway, looking at the document.

The document read: In light of the continued improvement in Mr. Suguru Geto's physical condition, the Jujutsu Association has decided to lift the restrictions on his movements ahead of schedule. Effective immediately, Mr. Suguru Geto may resume his daily activities, including but not limited to training, teaching, and carrying out assigned missions. His suspension will remain at the originally stipulated three months. Following the lifting of restrictions, he must submit a weekly report on his physical condition to the Association until his suspension ends.

Suguru Geto turned to the last page and saw the signatures and seal. Masamichi Yaga's and Kiryū's signatures sat side by side, with the Association's red seal stamped over the date. The date was today. He closed the document and set it on the desk. Echo pulsed beneath the skin of his chest, smaller than a fist now. Nine weeks ago, it had been the size of two and a half fists. Now it was smaller than one. Shoko called it "subsiding on its own," Satoru Gojo called it "listening to you," and Yuki Tsukumo called it "not needing to grow anymore." Suguru Geto didn't know which explanation was right. Maybe all of them were.

He put on his coat and left the dorm.

Echo, he said inwardly, we're out.

Echo gave a light, lively pulse, as if to say, I know.

Suguru Geto headed to the cafeteria. There weren't many people inside, and the seats by the window were empty. He carried his tray over and sat down. Pacific saury, miso soup, rice. He picked up his chopsticks, took a piece of fish, and put it in his mouth. The fish was cold, its skin no longer crisp, its flesh dry, but it tasted right. He ate slowly, finishing every grain of rice and drinking all the soup. Only a fish skeleton and a small puddle of pickle brine remained on his tray.

That afternoon, Suguru Geto went to the training grounds. Haibara and Nanami weren't there, but two younger students were sparring. Their movements were awkward, their grips on the wooden swords too tight, their steps too short, their breathing too ragged. Watching them reminded him of when he'd first enrolled. Back then, he hadn't had Cursed Spirit Manipulation, hadn't subdued a single cursed spirit, hadn't seen a special grade cursed spirit. Back then, he'd thought being a jujutsu sorcerer meant destroying cursed spirits, saving people, and being thanked. He stood at the edge of the training grounds for a long time, until the sun began to sink.

"Geto."

He turned around. Kento Nanami stood behind him, holding a folder.

"Mr. Yaga asked me to give you this." Nanami held out the folder. "Next week's mission schedule. The Association said your restrictions have been lifted, so you can start taking missions again. But Mr. Yaga said to ask whether you wanted to first."

Suguru Geto took the folder and opened it. The first page listed three missions, all Grade 2. The locations were Chiba Prefecture, Saitama, and Kanagawa, and all were solo assignments. He closed the folder and handed it back to Nanami.

"Tell Mr. Yaga I'll take a mission next Monday."

Nanami nodded and took the folder, but didn't leave. He stood there, looking at Suguru Geto. His lips moved, then closed again. In the end, he said nothing more and excused himself with a farewell.

That evening, Suguru Geto wrote in his diary in his dorm room. He wrote the date in his notebook, then added: "My restrictions were lifted today. Kiryū left, and Iguchi and Tamura left too. The visiting room's door is closed. I can move around freely again. But what is freedom? Is it having no one at the door to stop me, or no longer needing to be stopped? I'm not sure. Echo didn't show me any images today. It doesn't ask where I'm going, what I'm thinking, or what I'm going to do. It's simply there. Does that count as freedom? Maybe not. But it doesn't ask, so I feel free."

He closed the notebook and set it beside his pillow. He switched off the light and lay down. The glow shining through his chest remained visible in the darkness, fainter and more subdued than before.

Echo, he said inwardly, we have a mission next Monday. You're coming with me.

Echo didn't answer. But its pulse didn't quicken. It simply kept its original rhythm, neither fast nor slow, as if to say: Wherever you go, I go.

On Monday morning, Suguru Geto stood at the main gate of Jujutsu High. It had been a long time since he'd gone on a mission. The last one had been on December 28, when he'd gone to Gunma to fight that special grade cursed spirit. That had been two months ago.

The mission site was an abandoned warehouse deeper in the industrial district of a small city called Ichihara, in Chiba Prefecture. It was a Grade 2 mission, and the target was a Grade 2 Cursed Spirit. When Suguru Geto entered the warehouse, the cursed spirit was curled up in a corner. Sensing his cursed energy, it began to tremble, instinctively submitting as if faced with a natural predator. Since his cursed energy had mutated, Cursed Spirit Manipulation's ability to suppress cursed spirits had grown stronger.

Suguru Geto merely held out his hand, and his cursed energy enveloped the cursed spirit. It didn't struggle. A black sphere fell to the floor, rolled twice, and stopped at his feet. A Cursed Spirit Orb. Much smaller than the one from Gunma, and much smaller than the one from Zama too. It was merely the product of a Grade 2 Cursed Spirit, nothing special.

As Suguru Geto absorbed it, Echo pulsed more gently, without the greed it had shown when absorbing cursed energy at the beginning. It didn't grow again. It accepted the new cursed energy, then passed it on to Suguru Geto's core.

Mission complete. Three hours of travel there and back; less than five minutes for the mission itself.

On Tuesday, Suguru Geto met Satoru Gojo at the training grounds.

Satoru Gojo stood alone in the middle of the grounds without his sunglasses, his azure Six Eyes unusually bright in the morning light. He stood there, looking at the sky. Suguru Geto walked over and stopped beside him.

"Satoru, what are you looking at?"

"The clouds," Satoru Gojo said. "They're moving."

Suguru Geto tilted his head back. The sky was pale blue, with a few thin clouds. They were indeed moving, slowly, so slowly it was almost imperceptible. But if he watched long enough, he could sense them drifting east.

"Geto," Satoru Gojo said, "you went on a mission yesterday."

"Yeah. Grade 2."

"How did it feel?"

Suguru Geto thought for a moment. "Normal. The same as before."

"What about Echo?"

"It didn't get bigger. It was just there."

Satoru Gojo was silent for a few seconds. He lowered his gaze from the sky and looked at Suguru Geto.

"Geto, it won't grow anymore," Satoru Gojo said. "It doesn't need to anymore."

Suguru Geto looked at him. "How do you know?"

Satoru Gojo's voice was quiet. "It's adjusting its shape. Adapting to you."

Suguru Geto said nothing. He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling Echo's pulse. Smaller than a fist, but it hadn't shrunk so much as become a closer fit.

"Satoru," Suguru Geto said, "when did you figure it out?"

Satoru Gojo tilted his head. "Figure what out?"

"Echo."

Satoru Gojo didn't answer right away. He took a piece of candy from his pocket, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. Strawberry, as usual.

"That day in the visiting room, you said Echo had shown you a door." Satoru Gojo spoke indistinctly around the candy. "You said you didn't know what was behind it. I thought, you don't know, but it does. It showed you that door not because it wanted you to go through, but because it wanted you to know there was something behind it. As for what that something is, it isn't telling you-not because it's hiding it, but because you aren't ready yet."

"Do you think I'm ready?"

Satoru Gojo looked at him for a while.

"You're ready," he said. "But you don't need to look right now. When you want to see it, it'll show you."

The next day, Suguru Geto had his weekly checkup in the infirmary. Shoko attached probes to his chest, arms, and neck, then switched on the old scanner. Waveforms fluctuated on the screen. Shoko watched them, her brow creasing briefly.

"How big is Echo now?" she asked.

"Smaller than a fist. I can't tell exactly how big. Satoru said it's adapting to me."

Shoko turned the screen toward him. A red curve on the waveform chart represented Echo's size. It had trended slowly downward over the past week, but the decline had become less pronounced.

Shoko was silent for a few seconds. "Maybe he's right. Echo isn't being absorbed by your body. It's merging with your core, becoming part of you." She removed the probes and made a few notes in her logbook. "Geto, the degree of deformation in your cursed energy core has dropped from 'mild' to 'very slight.' If the readings are normal at your next checkup, the Association might end your suspension early."

Suguru Geto looked at her. "Aren't there still two weeks left?"

"The Association can end it early. If they think you're fine."

"Thanks. I'll get going, then."

Afterward, Suguru Geto went to the hill behind the school again, planning to lie beneath a tree for a while. Sunlight emerged from behind the clouds and fell across his face, its warmth seeping through his skin.

Spring was almost here.