---
"People feel guilty about the past, become prisoners of today and future fugitives to themselves."
---
The infirmary was quiet when Ryu arrived, sunlight streaming through the windows. Shoko looked up from her desk, where she was updating the records.
"Looking for Makoto?" she asked.
"He's not here. Went off with Elder Yamada for some kind of training session."
"Training? But he's injured."
"Was injured. Healing's progressing well, though..." Shoko's expression grew troubled.
"Those were some nasty wounds. Deep lacerations on his arm, compound fracture in his leg, severe cursed energy disruption."
Something cold settled in Ryu's stomach. "That sounds like more than one curse could do."
"That's what I thought too. The wound patterns were... inconsistent. Like he was attacked by multiple entities with different techniques."
"You were his partner. Didn't you see what happened?"
'Multiple entities. Different techniques.'
The fragments in Ryu's memory began to shift, trying to form back a memory.
The taste of corruption, the feeling of something breaking free inside him, darkness spreading through his vision...
"I..." Ryu swayed slightly as the memories tried to surface. Pain lanced through his skull.
"You okay?" Shoko was on her feet immediately.
"Fine. Just a headache." But it wasn't fine. The harder he tried to remember, the more his head pounded. Like his mind was actively fighting against the memories.
"The cuts were too precise for a Grade 4," Shoko continued.
"And something had interfered with his healing, some kind of cursed energy technique that prevented proper recovery."
'Precision. Healing interference.'
The words triggered something, and suddenly the memories came flooding back like a dam bursting. The abandoned apartment, Makoto's nervous chatter, the Grade 4 curse that should have been easy...
And then the hunger. The overwhelming, consuming need that had driven everything else from his mind. The moment when his eyes had gone black and his consciousness faded.
'Oh Kami, what did I do?'
Ryu barely made it to the bathroom before he vomited, his body rejecting lunch as his mind rejected what he was remembering. The taste of cursed energy, rich and intoxicating.
The sound of Makoto screaming as shadow tendrils broke his leg. The sight of his classmate crawling away, bleeding and terrified, while Ryu feasted on the dying curse like an animal.
'I did that. I hurt him. I.....nearly killed him.'
The full weight of what he'd become crashed down on him.
---
The rest of the day passed in a blur of self-recrimination and growing dread. Ryu went through the motions of attending classes, but his mind was elsewhere, reliving every horrible detail of what he'd done to his companion.
By the time evening came, he was barely holding himself together. The guilt was clawing at his insides worse than the hunger.
"You look terrible," Haibara observed as they prepared to leave school.
"Worse than this morning, somehow."
"I need to talk to you," Ryu said suddenly. "About something important."
Nanami glanced between them, his mind clearly picking up on the tension. "I'll leave you two to it. Privacy seems advisable."
He walked away with a half smile, like he'd expected this conversation to happen eventually.
"What's wrong?" Haibara asked as they walked through the school gates.
"And don't say 'nothing.' You've been acting strange all day."
They walked in silence for several blocks, the evening air cool against Ryu's skin. Finally, when they reached a small park away from prying eyes, he found his voice.
"I remember what happened on the mission."
Haibara stopped walking. "And?"
"I hurt him, Haibara. I hurt Makoto badly." The words came out in a rush, like poison being purged from him.
"It wasn't just the curse that injured him. It was me."
"What do you mean?"
Ryu closed his eyes, forcing himself to relive it one more time.
"I lost control. My technique... it went haywire. I attacked both the curse and Makoto at the same time.
Cut his arm nearly to the bone, broke his leg with my shadow tendril."
"That's..." Haibara struggled to process this.
"But that's not possible. Your technique doesn't work that way."
"Doesn't it?" Ryu's laugh was bitter.
"What do we really know about my technique? It's supposedly random, unpredictable. Maybe this was just another 'random' manifestation."
"You're saying you accidentally hurt your partner during combat?" Haibara's voice was neutral.
"That happens, Ryu. Friendly fire in chaotic situations--"
"This wasn't friendly fire." Ryu met his eyes, willing him to understand.
"I saw him bleeding, heard him screaming, and I didn't stop. I didn't help him. I was too busy..."
"Too busy doing what?"
"Finishing the curse. I prioritized the mission over my partner's safety, and he nearly died because of it." The words tasted like ash.
Haibara was quiet for a long moment, processing this confession. When he spoke, his voice was gentle but firm.
"You made a mistake. A serious one, but still a mistake.
That doesn't make you pathetic."
"Doesn't it? What kind of person leaves their injured partner to--"
"A terrified first year who panicked in a combat situation." Haibara placed a hand on Ryu's shoulder.
"You think you're the first sorcerer to freeze up when things went wrong? To make bad choices under pressure?"
'You don't understand. I didn't freeze up.'
"Makoto could have died."
"But he didn't. His technique manifested, he survived and became stronger."
Haibara's grip tightened.
"You can't change what happened, but you can learn from it. Make sure it never happens again."
'If only it were that simple.'
"How can you be so sure? If it were you lying in that infirmary--"
"Then I'd want my friend to learn from his mistakes, not destroy himself with guilt." Haibara's smile was sad but genuine.
"That's what friends do, Ryu. We forgive each other's failures and help each other grow."
"I don't deserve forgiveness."
"That's not your choice to make. It's Makoto's. And mine. And everyone else you care about." Haibara squeezed his shoulder one more time before letting go.
"The question is, what are you going to do, if you get a second chance?"
---
That night, Ryu sat in his apartment staring at his hands, the same hands that had torn through cursed flesh, that had struck down a friend without hesitation.
'What am I becoming?'
The memory terrified him more than any curse he'd ever faced. The complete loss of control, the satisfaction of consuming prey, the way his consciousness had simply...
switched off.
He thought about Haibara's words, forgiveness, second chances, learning from mistakes. His friend meant well, but he didn't understand the real danger. None of them did.
'I can't let it happen again. For Makoto's sake, for all their sakes.'
But how could he control something he barely understood?
How could he fight an enemy that lived inside his own skin?
'I need to be smarter.
More careful.
Find a way to feed the hunger without losing consciousness.'
'I'll get stronger. Strong enough to control this thing. Strong enough to protect them'
Outside his window, the city hummed with life, millions of people going about their evening routines, blissfully unaware of the monsters that walked among them.
And in a hidden training ground beneath Tokyo Jujutsu High, a young man practiced with weapons, preparing for a confrontation he prayed would never come.
'But if it did...He would be ready.'
---
The next afternoon, restless and unable to focus on studies, Ryu found himself wandering the streets near campus. His mind was a turmoil of conflicting thoughts, human emotions battling.
He rounded a corner near a small grocery stall and froze.
Makoto stood at the vendor's cart, clutching a bag of supplies with his good hand. His injured arm was still in a sling, and he moved with carefully.
Their eyes met across the small crowd, and for a moment, time seemed to slow down.
"Makoto," Ryu said, taking a step forward.
His former partner's face went through various emotions, fear, anger, and finally settling on hatred.
"Don't."
Makoto's voice was steady, but Ryu could see the tension in his posture, the way he shifted his weight to favor his good leg.
"Just don't."
"I need to apologize. For what I did, for--"
"For enjoying it?"
Makoto's laugh was sharp and bitter.
"For feeding? For ignoring my screams while you satisfied your hunger?"
Each word hit like a blow, but instead of pain, Ryu felt only a strange sense of... validation? Like Makoto was finally seeing him clearly.
"I'm sorry," he said, but the words felt hollow even to him.
"No, you're not." Makoto's eyes blazed with conviction.
"You're sorry you got caught. Sorry there are consequences.
But you're not sorry for what you are."
They stared at each other, former teammates now separated by a veil of truth.
"We're classmates," Makoto said finally, his voice cold and formal.
"But we're not friends. We'll never be friends. Because only I know what you really are."
He turned and walked away, still limping from his injuries.
And as Ryu watched him go, he felt... relief.
The emotion should have horrified him. Should have sent him running to confess everything to Yaga sensei, to beg for help in controlling whatever he was becoming.
Instead, he felt a cold satisfaction settle over him like a comfortable cloak.
Makoto's hatred was honest. It required no drama, no lies, no exhausting performance.
'Maybe this is better' he thought.
'Maybe it's easier when there is nothing to hide.'
The thought should have terrified him.
Instead, it felt like freedom.
---
That night, Ryu sat in his apartment staring at his reflection in the dark. The city lights twinkled below, millions of people going about their lives.
His eyes were open but with a blank expression.
The guilt was still there, but it felt distant, manageable. Like an old wound that had finally stopped bleeding.
'I need to understand what I am' he thought.
'The hunger, the feeding, the loss of control, there has to be a pattern. A way to harness it without losing myself completely.'
Ryu pulled out a notebook and began to write, documenting everything he could remember about his technique, his transformations, the way cursed energy flowed through him when he fed.
'If I'm becoming a monster, then I need to be the most efficient monster possible.'
Outside, the city hummed with life and energy. And somewhere beneath Tokyo Jujutsu High, in hidden training room, a young man with bandaged hands practiced creating and destroying matter with equal ease.
Nature, it seemed, had provided its own balance. A creator to match the devourer.
But for now, Ryu was content to plan and prepare, to study his own self.
'Tomorrow' he decided
'I'll start hunting again. But this time, I'll be in control.'
'This time, I'll choose what I become.'
---