As usual

It was already late at night when they returned to Jujutsu High.

Shoko was still awake, sitting behind the desk in the infirmary with a thick medical textbook open in front of her and a pen between her fingers. Hearing the door, she looked up, glanced at Suguru Geto, then at Satoru Gojo, and set down her pen.

"How did it go?" she asked.

"It's over," Suguru Geto said.

Shoko waited a few seconds. When he showed no sign of saying anything more, she did not ask. She stood up, walked over to Suguru Geto, and pressed the small scanner against the inside of his wrist. It gave a short beep. She checked the numbers on its display and frowned.

"It's gone."

"What?"

"The echo." Shoko put away the scanner, returned to her desk, and picked up his earlier examination report to compare it with the new readings. "There's no echo left in your body. Your cursed energy core is clean, just as it was before the echo entered. Even the original is gone."

Suguru Geto pressed a hand to his chest.

The thing that had once been embedded deep within his cursed energy core was no longer there.

"Any discomfort?" Shoko asked.

Suguru Geto lowered his hand from his chest.

"No."

"And your cursed energy?"

"Normal."

Shoko nodded and slipped her pen into the pocket of her white coat.

"Then go get some sleep," she said. "Regular classes start again tomorrow."

Looking at her, Suguru Geto suddenly felt that Shoko's refusal to pry was a rare luxury. Unlike Satoru Gojo, she could not see through everything with the Six Eyes, and unlike Masamichi Yaga, she did not have to bear responsibility for it. She was simply here, treating you when you needed her and quietly reading in the infirmary when you did not. She never asked what you had been through, what you had lost, or whether you were all right. She knew that if you wanted her to know, you would tell her. If you did not, she would not ask.

"Thanks, Shoko."

Suguru Geto turned and left the infirmary. Satoru Gojo followed him, glancing back at Shoko as he walked out. She happened to look up, and their eyes met for a second. Shoko silently mouthed something to him. Satoru Gojo understood, said nothing, and closed the door.

Suguru Geto walked ahead, with Satoru Gojo behind him. When they reached his dorm room, Suguru Geto stopped and turned around.

"See you tomorrow," he said.

Satoru Gojo leaned against the hallway wall, hands in his pockets, watching him from behind his sunglasses.

"Geto."

"Yeah?"

"You just thanked Shoko."

Suguru Geto waited a few seconds for him to continue. But Satoru Gojo said nothing more. He simply watched Suguru Geto, as though waiting for an answer.

"So?" Suguru Geto said.

"So you owe me one."

Suguru Geto looked at him for two seconds, then smiled.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Satoru Gojo said, then turned and left.

Suguru Geto stood outside his room, watching Satoru Gojo's back disappear at the end of the hallway.

He opened the door, went inside, and closed it.

The next morning, Suguru Geto was late.

He had not overslept. He had simply stood outside his room for five minutes, watching the sunlight spilling into the hallway.

The secret was still there, but some things had changed.

He wondered what he had changed.

Footsteps came from the end of the hallway. Suguru Geto looked up and saw Satoru Gojo approaching from the stairs, carrying a half-finished can of strawberry milk. Seeing Suguru Geto outside his room, he paused.

"You haven't left yet?"

"I was just about to."

Satoru Gojo looked him up and down, said nothing, and kept walking. After a few steps, he realized Suguru Geto had not followed, so he stopped again and turned his head.

"Come on."

Suguru Geto started walking and followed him.

The sound of Satoru Gojo gulping his milk seemed loud in the quiet hallway, like a high school boy in the middle of a growth spurt.

"Satoru."

"Yeah?"

"The echo's gone."

Satoru Gojo paused mid-sip. He lowered the milk can from his lips and turned to look at Suguru Geto. His sunglasses hid the expression in his eyes, but the corner of his mouth shifted slightly, as though he wanted to say something and decided against it.

"I know," he said.

"When did you find out?"

"Last night," Satoru Gojo said. "On the way back from Kumano, I looked at you with the Six Eyes."

Satoru Gojo finished the last mouthful of milk, crushed the can, and held it in his hand.

Suguru Geto looked at him. Satoru Gojo looked back. The hallway was quiet, and sunlight slowly shifted between them.

"How do you feel now?" Satoru Gojo asked.

Suguru Geto thought for a moment.

"Lighter," he said.

"Lighter?"

"There was always something in there before. Now that it's gone, I feel lighter."

Satoru Gojo nodded and tossed the milk can into the trash bin at the end of the hallway. It bounced off the rim before falling inside with a crisp clatter.

"That's good," he said, then pushed open the classroom door.

The day's schedule was written on the classroom blackboard. The first class was jujutsu theory, taught by Masamichi Yaga. Masamichi Yaga was already at the front with chalk in his hand, about to write something on the board. When Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto entered one after the other, his gaze lingered on their faces for a second before he continued writing.

Suguru Geto sat down at his desk.

Satoru Gojo sat beside him and propped his feet on the desk. Masamichi Yaga turned around and saw them. Rather than getting angry, he simply said, "Put them down." Satoru Gojo did. Thirty seconds later, he put them up again. Masamichi Yaga said nothing more.

Suguru Geto opened his textbook and looked at the material he had already learned once before. The flow of cursed energy, the classification of cursed tools, the grading of curses. He had learned all this in his previous life and studied it again in this one. Still, he read through it carefully, not because he needed to, but because this was everyday life. Classes, breaks, meals, sleep, missions, returning to Jujutsu High. Day after day, week after week.

These everyday routines were what he had lost in his previous life.

Now he had picked them up again.

There were no classes that afternoon. Masamichi Yaga called Satoru Gojo to his office, saying there was something they needed to discuss in private. Suguru Geto sat alone on the rooftop, leaning against the railing and watching the sunlight on the athletic field.

Suguru Geto pressed a hand to his chest.

He closed his eyes, trying to find some trace of the echo inside him. There was nothing. His cursed energy flowed like a quiet river, without obstructions or anything foreign. He should have felt relieved.

He did feel relieved.

But at the same time, he felt as though something was missing.

It was like a longtime tenant had finally moved out. The room was empty and clean. You no longer had to clean up after them, worry about leaks, or wake in the middle of the night to their noise. Yet sometimes, you still found yourself at the door, opening it to look at the empty floor.

Then you closed the door and went back to what you were doing.

Footsteps came from the stairwell. Suguru Geto did not turn around. He knew who it was.

Satoru Gojo came over to him. Rather than sitting down, he leaned against the railing, facing the athletic field. The wind ruffled his hair and puffed out his white shirt like a little sail.

"What did Mr. Yaga say?" Suguru Geto asked.

"Nothing much," Satoru Gojo said. "He said the Association's quieted down for now and told me not to cause trouble."

"Can you manage that?"

"No."

Suguru Geto smiled.

They were silent for a while. A crow took flight from the athletic field and landed on the school building's roof, standing on the ridge with its head tilted as it watched them.

Suguru Geto turned to look at him. Satoru Gojo was not looking back. His gaze rested somewhere on the athletic field, his expression calm.

"Come on. Time to eat."

Suguru Geto stood and followed him down the stairs. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting their shadows on the wall, one behind the other, as though one were following the other.

But Suguru Geto knew they were walking side by side.

It was just that sometimes, one walked ahead and the other behind. The one in front would not go too fast, and the one behind would not fall too far back.

There were only a few people in the cafeteria. Shoko sat in a corner with a bowl of ramen in front of her, looking at her phone. Yu Haibara sat across from her with a plate of curry rice, adding fukujinzuke pickles to it. When he saw Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo come in, he waved.

Suguru Geto got his food from the counter and carried it to the seat beside Haibara. Satoru Gojo sat across from him and stretched his feet under the table, touching Suguru Geto's foot. He did not pull away, and neither did Suguru Geto.

They ate the whole meal like that, their feet touching.

The curry rice tasted the same as always. Satoru Gojo finished his portion and went back to the counter for another. Suguru Geto ate slowly, chewing each mouthful until every grain of rice was thoroughly broken down.

After eating, Suguru Geto went to wash his bowl. The tap water was cold against his fingers, washing away the yellow curry stains little by little. He put the bowl back on the rack and turned to see Satoru Gojo standing at the cafeteria entrance with a fresh can of strawberry milk.

"Back to the dorms?" Satoru Gojo asked.

"Back to the dorms."

They left the cafeteria, crossed the athletic field, walked down the hallway, and reached Suguru Geto's room. Suguru Geto opened the door and stepped inside, then turned to find Satoru Gojo still standing in the doorway.

"Good night," Suguru Geto said.

"Good night," Satoru Gojo said.

Suguru Geto closed the door.

He stood behind it, listening to the footsteps in the hallway. Satoru Gojo's steps were light, but Suguru Geto could hear them. One, two, three, growing more distant. Then they paused, then continued, fading farther away until he could no longer hear them at all.

Suguru Geto walked to the window and opened it. Air rushed in, carrying the night's chill and the scent of leaves. There was no moon in the sky, but there were countless stars, crowded together like a handful of silver fragments scattered over black cloth.

He pressed a hand to his chest, still not quite used to it.

He took a deep breath, then slowly let it out.

Suguru Geto closed the window, drew the curtains, and lay down on his bed. The pillow was soft, the blanket light, and the bed frame a little hard. He closed his eyes and listened to the insects outside.

There were classes tomorrow. A mission the day after. An exam next week. Another mission next month. The days would pass, one by one.

But he was different now.

He was no longer the person cautiously walking a tightrope with the memories of his previous life. He had crossed it, finished the journey, reached the other end. Then he had looked back and realized the tightrope had already snapped, while he had been standing on solid ground for a long time.

He had simply never looked down.

Suguru Geto rolled over, pulled the blanket up to his shoulders, and closed his eyes.

The insects' chirping drifted in from outside, rising and falling like a lullaby without words.

He soon fell asleep.

He did not dream.