Early autumn sunlight slipped through the half-open blinds of the infirmary window, laying parallel bars of light across the white bedsheets. The sharp smell of disinfectant mixed with the faint scent of blood, creating the familiar atmosphere unique to the room.
Kaede sat propped up against a soft pillow on the hospital bed, dressed in a loose patient gown.
His left shoulder and chest were wrapped in layer after layer of medical bandages, faint traces of ointment showing through. The right hand that had been badly corrupted by black cursed residue two days earlier had lost its horrifying ashen color, but several dark red veins still lingered across the skin like streaks of lightning.
"So that's it… those droplets inside my domain… Even though I built it for suppression, its real function isn't suppression at all. It's cleansing."
As Kaede spoke in that calm, even tone, he slowly lifted his right hand.
The air gave a faint, subtle distortion.
At the center of his palm, a wisp of pale violet cursed energy appeared and flickered like a strange little ghost flame, something completely unlike the water-aligned nature of Rainfall.
"Once a target gets washed by the domain, it seems to strip away the technique engraved on them and collect it. Mahito probably lasted around four or five seconds before he figured it out… but part of his cursed energy control was still washed off and recorded by me. Because of that…"
Kaede tilted his head slightly, his dark red eyes passing through the window frame to rest on a sparrow hopping from branch to branch outside.
"I can see the outline of the soul now, and I can strike it. It's still faint, but I can definitely do it.
But I can probably only preserve one washed-off technique at a time.
At its core, this means taking someone else's technique engraving and transferring it onto the walls of my innate domain so I can use it.
Even setting aside how hard it is to change the conditions of the domain, just the drop in efficiency for my own technique is already a major problem. Right now, if I only keep one borrowed property, I can still use Rainfall perfectly…"
In the sunlight, his profile looked pale and composed.
At that moment, the door to the infirmary clicked softly and was pushed open without warning from the outside.
A tall white-haired man strode in carrying an elegant shopping bag printed with the logo of a famous dessert shop.
Almost the instant he opened the door, the Six Eyes hidden beneath Gojo Satoru's black blindfold locked precisely onto the faint violet cursed energy resting in Kaede's palm.
"So you're hanging stripped technique engravings off the walls of your innate domain…"
Gojo casually set the bag of daifuku on the bedside table, pulled over a chair, and sat down beside the bed, crossing his long legs with careless ease.
He did not look surprised. If anything, he sounded like a programmer who had just stumbled across a fascinating piece of code.
"That's basically attaching some unknown external plugin to your main program.
Just like you figured out, if you force too many plugins into the system, not only will you trigger rejection, you'll also drag down the performance of your original Rainfall technique."
His long, sharply jointed fingers tapped rhythmically against his knee.
Then he leaned slightly forward, facing Kaede.
"One single storage slot. That's a pretty brutal limitation.
Still… it's enough."
A meaningful smile curved at the corner of Gojo's mouth. He pointed in the direction Kaede had been looking.
"Being able to perceive the outline of the soul means you now have a true kill method against that special grade curse.
The next time you run into that stitched-up freak, your attacks won't just leave superficial wounds. You'll be able to touch and tear apart his core directly.
That's one hell of a trophy."
Gojo lowered his hand and leaned back into the chair, his voice turning light again.
"Shoko says the corrosion in your right hand will take a few more days to fully metabolize. As for that imitation blade that absorbed Kurourushi's technique, I already had it sealed away in the cursed vault for now.
And as for Junpei…"
He paused, then let a reassuring smile spread across his face.
"I already handled things with Principal Yaga. Once he's mentally settled down a little and figured out what he wants to do, he can officially complete his enrollment paperwork.
So for now, your only job as a heavily injured patient is to eat this shop's limited-edition edamame cream daifuku and get some proper sleep."
"Sensei, why do you always eavesdrop on me…"
Kaede remained propped up against the pillow.
As he spoke with quiet exasperation, the pale violet cursed energy hovering in his palm dissipated into the air like smoke caught in a breeze.
"The exchange event is about to start, right?
Are you still planning to keep Itadori hidden until then, or are you going with the surprise reveal?
And how's Junpei doing?"
His right hand, still marked with dark red streaks, settled back onto the white sheet.
Hearing the complaint, the man sitting beside the bed showed not the slightest trace of guilt. Instead, he spread his hands as if the accusation itself were ridiculous.
"How is that eavesdropping?"
Gojo broke into a wide grin, the brow beneath his black blindfold seeming to arch upward.
"My Six Eyes just happened to detect unusual cursed energy fluctuations on this floor.
And as a responsible educator, when my adorable student might be on the verge of accidentally detonating himself in a hospital room, of course I have to come running to check."
While talking, he casually reached into the elegant paper bag on the bedside table and pulled out an edamame cream daifuku.
The wrapper gave a crisp crackle as he opened it. A sweet, rich scent instantly spread through the room, pushing against the smell of disinfectant.
Sunlight filtered through the slats of the blinds, casting broken strips of brightness over Gojo's tall frame.
He chewed on the daifuku while gesturing grandly through the air with his free hand.
"As for the exchange event, yeah, it's only a few days away.
That stubborn old fossil from Kyoto is absolutely dying to put Tokyo in its place this year."
Gojo swallowed the mouthful of dessert and leaned forward, coming a little closer to the bed.
The smile on his face widened into something positively mischievous, with the reckless excitement of a child planning the perfect prank.
"As for Yuji, of course we're giving everyone a massive, unforgettable surprise.
I've already scripted the perfect entrance. It'll move Megumi and Nobara to tears.
You're an accomplice now, so don't you dare ruin it early."
Moved to tears, huh? More like wondering whether their irresponsible teacher used forbidden sorcery to puppet their classmate's corpse, Kaede thought dryly.
Gojo had clearly run the scene in his head a dozen times already, reveling in every detail of Yuji's return.
But when the subject shifted to Junpei, the theatrics eased a little.
"As for Junpei…"
Gojo leaned back in the chair again, one long leg crossed over the other.
His tone carried a rare trace of sincerity now, the voice of a teacher rather than a showman.
"He still needs some time to settle mentally.
Even though your intervention stopped things from becoming a full-blown tragedy, being manipulated by a disgusting special grade curse and nearly hurting his own classmates… that's a lot for a high school kid who just got dragged into the jujutsu world."
Gojo tilted his head slightly, as though looking far beyond the room.
"I had Ijichi arrange a safe place for him to stay, and he's getting the basics explained to him.
He actually seems pretty determined to get stronger. He wants to atone for the reckless choices he made.
He's a good prospect, honestly. He just has a bad habit of putting every bit of blame on himself."
Gojo popped the last piece of daifuku into his mouth, brushed the sugar off his hands, and stood up.
His tall figure blocked a large portion of the sunlight pouring in through the window, casting the bed in partial shadow.
"So until the exchange event ends…"
He looked down at Kaede, then reached over and tugged the blanket up with a firmness that left no room for refusal.
"You, the wounded party, are going to stay in bed and sleep. If Tokyo goes into the exchange event short one guy capable of suppressing Kyoto's lineup, I'm going to be very annoyed."