Zama

At four in the morning, Suguru Geto woke.

It wasn't an alarm that woke him. He hadn't slept at all. He had simply closed his eyes and lain in the darkness for a few hours, listening to his own heartbeat, waiting for that moment to arrive.

At four sharp, he opened his eyes.

It was still dark outside. The sky at four in the morning resembled a cloth soaked in ink; even the stars looked dim. He sat up, the blanket slipping to his waist. Cold seeped through his skin, clearing his head completely.

He got dressed and checked his equipment.

Three cursed swords were slotted into a specially made belt, and a short dagger was strapped to the outside of his calf. The cursed spirits he had subdued rested quietly in his shadow, waiting for his summons. The medical kit Shoko had given him was tucked into an inner pocket of his uniform, close to his heart. The map was folded into a small square in his trouser pocket.

He picked up his phone and glanced at it. Four oh three.

Time to go.

Suguru Geto opened his dorm room door. The corridor was deserted, his footsteps echoing through the empty space.

As he stepped out of the dormitory, he saw a figure.

Satoru Gojo stood downstairs, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He wore a black jacket, his hair still a mess, sunglasses perched on his nose. At the sound of footsteps, he raised his head, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

"You're too slow," he said. "I've been waiting ten minutes."

"You got here at four?" Suguru Geto asked.

"Three fifty."

"...Did you even sleep last night?"

"I did." Satoru Gojo stepped away from the wall and stood beside him. "For an hour. That's enough."

Suguru Geto looked at him, wanting to say something, but ultimately said nothing. He simply made a mental note: Satoru Gojo was worried. Not in an obvious way, but on a deeper level, his concern wrapped in flippancy and nonchalance. He wouldn't say it aloud, but his actions proved it.

They headed toward Jujutsu High's main gate together.

A little after four in the morning, Jujutsu High resembled a sleeping beast. All its buildings were hidden in darkness, with only a few streetlights casting a dull yellow glow. Wind blew down from the mountain, carrying the scent of earth and dew, slipping cold fingers beneath their collars.

Suguru Geto stopped when they reached the gate.

Someone was standing there.

Yu Haibara.

He carried a cursed tool bag on his back and wore a hoodie washed nearly white, his hair tousled by the wind. When he saw Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo, he flashed his signature smile and waved from a distance.

"Geto! Gojo! Good morning!"

"What are you doing here so early?" Suguru Geto walked over, his voice calmer than he had expected.

"I couldn't sleep!" Haibara said with a grin. "I was too excited! It's my first mission with both of you. I kept thinking about it last night and tossing and turning, so I figured I'd come early and wait."

"What time did you get here?" Satoru Gojo asked.

"Um...three thirty?"

Satoru Gojo glanced at Suguru Geto. The meaning of that look was obvious: This kid's even crazier than I am.

Suguru Geto couldn't help smiling. It was the first genuine smile he had given since his rebirth, one that wasn't meant to hide anything. Brief and faint, but real.

"Let's go," he said. "The car's waiting down below."

Beyond Jujutsu High's main gate, at the bottom of the stone steps, a black official car was parked by the road. The driver was an assistant supervisor sent by the Jujutsu Association, a middle-aged man in his forties wearing a dark suit. His face was expressionless, like a wax figure placed in the driver's seat.

"Zama City?" he asked in a flat voice.

"Yes." Suguru Geto opened the rear door, let Haibara get in first, then climbed in himself. Satoru Gojo entered from the other side and sat beside him.

The doors shut, and the engine started.

The car slowly pulled away from Jujutsu High's gates and onto the still-sleeping streets. Tokyo had yet to wake at half past four. Streetlights swept past the windows one after another, their orange glow flickering across Suguru Geto's face.

The car was quiet.

Yu Haibara sat in the middle of the back seat. At first, he gazed excitedly out the window, but before long, his head began to droop. His sleepless night had finally caught up with him. His eyelids grew heavier, his breathing steadier, until he leaned against Suguru Geto's shoulder and fell asleep.

Suguru Geto didn't move.

He felt the weight on his shoulder, Yu Haibara's body heat passing through their clothes. Warm. Real. Alive.

He turned to look out the window. The horizon had begun to pale.

"Geto." Satoru Gojo's voice came softly from beside him, as though he was afraid of waking Haibara.

"Mm."

"You didn't sleep last night either."

It wasn't a question.

"I did," Suguru Geto said.

"Liar." There was no accusation in Satoru Gojo's tone, only a plain statement. "The flow of your cursed energy tells me you spent the whole night thinking."

Suguru Geto didn't answer.

Satoru Gojo didn't press him. He simply reached out and patted Suguru Geto's knee twice. The gesture was light and brief, but Suguru Geto felt a strange strength in it, as though someone were saying, "I'm here."

No words were needed, no promises. Just a gesture.

The car pulled onto the highway. It picked up speed, and the scenery outside blurred into light and shadow.

The journey was shorter than expected. Just after six, the car entered downtown Zama City.

Zama was a small city west of Tokyo, in central Kanagawa Prefecture. It had residential neighborhoods, shopping streets, a few factories, and a river running through its center. It looked like any ordinary small or midsized Japanese city: quiet, peaceful, unremarkable.

But Suguru Geto knew something lurked beneath that tranquil surface.

"We're here." The assistant supervisor parked in a lot beside a park and switched off the engine. "The mission area is the Abandoned Factory District within two kilometers north of the park. The disappearances over the past few months have all been concentrated there. The Jujutsu Association classified the cursed spirit as Grade 2. Its lair is most likely beneath the factory district."

Suguru Geto pushed open the door and stepped out.

The air at six in the morning was cold, carrying the scent of dew and rust. He stood in the middle of the parking lot and surveyed his surroundings. The park was empty, its swings swaying gently in the wind with a creak. Several gray buildings stood in the distant factory district, their chimneys towering into the sky, though they hadn't produced smoke in a long time.

Satoru Gojo walked over and took off his sunglasses.

Satoru Gojo stared at the distant factory district in silence for a long time.

Then he spoke.

"Geto, you were right. This isn't Grade 2."

Suguru Geto's heart sank.

"What did you see?" he asked.

"Cursed energy." Satoru Gojo's usual flippancy was gone, replaced by a calm, almost cold objectivity. "Very faint, very diffuse. It blankets the whole factory district like mist. You'd never notice it unless you looked closely. But if you stare long enough, you start to feel something."

"What?"

"Malice." Satoru Gojo put his sunglasses back on and turned to Suguru Geto. "Pure, senseless malice. Like a black hole."

Yu Haibara climbed out of the car, rubbing his eyes. He looked freshly awake, his hair a mess, but otherwise seemed in good spirits.

"What's going on?" he asked brightly. "Is something wrong?"

Suguru Geto turned and looked at Yu Haibara.

He made a decision.

"Haibara," he said, "stay with me on today's mission. Don't go more than five meters away from me."

Haibara blinked, then smiled. "Okay!"

"No matter what happens," Suguru Geto said, stressing every word, "don't try to be a hero. Don't charge in alone. Don't assume it'll be fine. Do you understand?"

Haibara's smile stiffened. He seemed to sense something in Suguru Geto's tone-not sternness, but something deeper, something like fear.

"Understood," he said, his voice quieter than usual.

Satoru Gojo glanced at Suguru Geto. There was scrutiny in his gaze, and confusion, but more than anything, understanding.

"Let's go," Satoru Gojo said, taking the first step.

The three of them crossed the park and headed toward the factory district.

In the early morning, the factory district resembled a vast graveyard. Abandoned buildings stood beneath the sky, their windows shattered, rusted iron frames humming low in the wind. Broken glass and discarded rubbish littered the ground, crunching sharply underfoot.

Suguru Geto led the way, Haibara followed behind him, and Satoru Gojo brought up the rear.

He could feel the cursed spirit's presence.

He didn't see it with his eyes or hear it with his ears. It was a deeper perception, as though someone were watching him from the darkness, that gaze thick, cold, and filled with an indescribable malice. It was here, somewhere in the shadows, watching them.

"Five meters," Suguru Geto said quietly.

Haibara closed the gap, nearly pressing against his back.

Deep within the factory district stood its largest building, something that looked like a warehouse or factory floor. Its doors were gone, leaving only a pitch-black entrance, like an open mouth waiting for prey to walk inside.

Suguru Geto stopped at the entrance.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Then he began releasing cursed spirits.

From his sleeves, from his shadow, from every direction, hundreds upon hundreds of low-level cursed spirits poured out of his body like a swarm of startled bats, scattering toward every corner of the factory district. They were Suguru Geto's eyes and ears, his hands feeling through the darkness. They had no offensive power, but they had one function: they could sense "existence."

That special grade cursed spirit could conceal its cursed energy, but it couldn't conceal its existence. When a thousand cursed spirits scanned an area at once, any "blank" would become a suspicious signal.

Suguru Geto stood at the entrance with his eyes closed, sensing the information those cursed spirits sent back.

The factory district's surface. Underground. Inside the buildings. Within the shadows. Every inch of space was being scanned, probed, searched.

He found it. On the factory's second basement level, there was an area his cursed spirits couldn't enter. Not because of a physical barrier, but because they couldn't perceive that area's existence. It was as though there were a hole there, a void that didn't exist in space. All perception failed at its edge.

"Found it." Suguru Geto opened his eyes.

Satoru Gojo adjusted his sunglasses. "Where?"

"Second basement level. East side."

"I'll go," Satoru Gojo said.

"No," Suguru Geto said. "I'll go. You keep watch outside. If it escapes..."

"It won't escape," Satoru Gojo interrupted. There was no arrogance in his tone, only unquestionable confidence. "Whatever it is, the moment it leaves this building, it's dead."

Suguru Geto looked at him and nodded.

Then he turned to Yu Haibara.

"Haibara, stay here with Satoru..."

"No."

Yu Haibara's voice was quiet but firm.

Suguru Geto froze for a moment.

Yu Haibara stood there with his cursed tool bag on his back, the smile gone from his face. In its place was an expression Suguru Geto had never seen him wear: serious, stubborn, as unyielding as stone.

"Geto," Haibara said, "you told me to stay close. Not to go more than five meters away."

Suguru Geto opened his mouth.

"You told me not to try to be a hero, not to charge in alone." Haibara's voice trembled slightly, but not from fear. It came from something stronger. "So I won't try to be a hero. I won't charge in alone. I'll stay with you. Within five meters."

He stepped forward and stood beside Suguru Geto.

"Take me with you," he said.

Suguru Geto looked at him for a long time.

Then he smiled-not bitterly, not helplessly, but with a genuine smile that came from the heart.

"All right," Suguru Geto said. "Stay close."