One by one, Suguru poured steaming buckets into the bathtub. It was so simple, yet ingenious—Nanami's idea, of course. They spent two days looking for a functioning butane stove, and then an hour heating the rainwater.

When all the twenty buckets were empty, Suguru carefully lowered himself in, letting the warm water hug his naked skin. He laid still for a minute, watching the flickering candlelight dance on the ceiling.

He would have loved to lounge there for hours, until the bath grew icy, and his hands pruned and wrinkled. But he couldn't. He refused to rest until he figured out how to get Satoru out. Safely.

He took a deep, determined breath and sank his head beneath the water. The world above him disappeared, swallowed by a muffled humming of his own heartbeat. His mind spun, and it felt as though he was rising through the other side of the tub, his head lifting, about to break through the surface. But when his eyes snapped open, Suguru was no longer in the bathroom.

He found himself sitting cross-legged, surrounded by an endless void. The world was stripped bare—no sound, no smell, no color. No feelings.

Just him and his thoughts.

"Prison realm," Suguru's mind whispered, and gradually, the cube emerged hovering before him, its eyes closed, motionless.

His visions had always been eerily realistic, but now they looked more convincing than life itself.

As soon as his fingertips pressed against the cube's rough surface, a wave of cursed energy came rushing into his veins. It filled all of his organs, all of his limbs with an ominous heaviness, and left a familiar bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

Yet he didn't flinch. He stroked the cube a few times, gently, letting the sharp edges dig into his skin; absorbing the rising heat radiating from its core.

The core…

Suguru pulled his head out of the water, gasping softly as the oxygen filled his hungry lungs. The reality came rushing back, and the smell of heavy humid air tickled his nose. The candle was now flickering hysterically, but his mind was the sharpest it had ever been.

He could do it. Despite the darkness, he saw the core shining brighter than the Dog Star in a clear night sky.

One more breath, and he was once again under the water, back to the eternal nothingness. This time, the bulging eyes of the cube greeted him. Unmoving, they stared at Suguru with the intensity of an entire army.

Swiftly, he reached straight into its core, piercing it with bold tenacity.

Sweltering heat engulfed his hand, and the air trembled in agony. The cube's eyes started convulsing, sending a wave of cursed energy straight into Suguru's chest. Burning his lungs. Stealing his oxygen.

But he didn't pull out his hand.

He waited.

That's when he felt it—a soft, cool touch intertwined around his open palm; so familiar yet distant, like a dream from a past life.

With a firm grip, he pulled him in, gritting his teeth against the fiery sting. From within the cube's core, another pale hand, grasping his own, emerged. Then the white, messy hair. The bright, cheeky grin. And the eyes—as blue and as infinite as the ocean. Just as he remembered him.

Satoru…

But something was wrong. The cube was shaking uncontrollably.

He tried pulling again, but his arm went numb.

No.

Satoru's face contorted in agony, and a piercing scream of terror tore from his throat.

No. No. No…

With a growling roar, Suguru pushed back against the crushing force, summoning every last drop of his strength. His body was shaking, each and every muscle tense, but his arms wouldn't move. Cursed energy devoured him from within, digging into his organs, burning his flesh, tearing his spirit. But he refused to yield.
His trembling fingers tensed and he tightened his grip. He wouldn't lose him. Not again.

With his eyes closed, he gathered his remaining energy and let out a final, desperate roar, pulling as hard as he could.

Suddenly, the scream stopped.

"Satoru?" Suguru opened his eyes slowly, his fingers wrapped around his friend's palm in perfect harmony, as if they had been carved to fit.

But Satoru didn't answer. The light in his eyes had vanished, leaving an empty, haunting gaze.

He was about to call out for him again, but he froze as his vision blurred with horror at the sight below him. Thick, glistening blood mixed with entrails pooled from the gaping wound in his friend's lifeless torso. The rest of Satoru's body remained grotesquely trapped within the cube, contorted and twisted.

He wanted to scream, but his body was out of oxygen.

Suguru pulled himself out of the water, gasping loudly, his heart about to burst out of his chest. As his trembling fingers dug into his scalp, for a brief second, all he could see was deep, crimson red.


It had been two weeks of constant practice. Two weeks of sleepless nights and grotesque, torturous visions. But he never got close to solving the prison realm dilemma. Each scenario ended the same—with Satoru's lifeless eyes and his stiff pale hands that Suguru always held so dearly.

He couldn't face Nanami like this. The guy was as patient as an ox, but even he had limits. He must have been so disappointed.

That's why Suguru avoided him like a plague, leaving his room only after the sun had set, always listening attentively, so as not to interfere with Nanami's steps.

As if in sync with his emotions, every week the rain grew stronger, and the clouds turned a few shades darker. It was the heaviest today, with weighty raindrops and whistling wind loudly howling in Suguru's room.

He was about to start his meditation when an unexpected knock made him flinch. "Come in," he said, surprised.

Nanami stepped in slowly, carrying two bowls of what could pass for porridge. Suguru lowered his gaze as he reached for the bowl.

The grayish gooey mass was far from appetizing, but the warm bowl felt so comforting in his hands. Or maybe it was all about the gesture.

"You don't have to save him," Nanami said boldly before Suguru could thank him for the food.

"I know I don't have to. But I need to."

"No, you don't."

With a slight frow, Suguru briefly faced Nanami. He could never tell if he was joking or not. And today was no exception. "We both know that it's not just about Gojo," Suguru said, holding the bowl tightly. For a split second he felt as if he was holding the prison realm.

Nanami sighed and pulled out a chair from under the desk. "Listen, I don't know what the deal is with you. All the talks about 'the core' or whatever. I couldn't care less if it was some mumbo jumbo," he said and scooped a spoonful of gray porridge into his mouth, chewing quietly, "but even if it was real, it's not your responsibility to save him."

The wind brushed against Suguru's skin, now fierce enough to make the window frame tremble, sneaking through the cracks into the room. A storm was brewing.

"Even if you got him out," Nanami continued, "there's no guarantee he could fix this mess. For all we know, the cursed freaks would probably sense it, and it would be Shibuya all over again."

"You never told me about Shibuya. Nor how he got trapped in there."

"Well…" Nanami leaned back, spinning the small silver spoon in between his fingers. "It was a fucked up night. This one shapeshifting fucker turned into you. And Gojo—that fool—he hesitated. Just for a split second though. But it was enough."

"Fuck." Suguru lowered the bowl on the bed and buried his face in his palms. "Why did you tell me that? Now I really feel like shit."

"You asked," Nanami shrugged.

"I know I might seem like I'm crazy, or I'm a liar, or whatever. But it's not some gibberish I came up with. It's real. I've been practicing for weeks. Again and again."

"I had no doubts. You do look miserable."

A silent laugh escaped Suguru's lips. He felt silly for not talking to Nanami sooner.

"So what's the issue, then?" Nanami asked.

"It's just… this cursed energy. It's too much for me. I lose control. And I lose him."

"Is there a way to counteract it?"

"Well, yeah, but not for me."

"For whom then?"

Suguru's shoulders shook slightly as he expelled a long, somber breath, his gaze turning toward the floor. It should have been his master, Pema, who returned. Why did it have to be him?

"It's someone that I knew. Someone who had so much sacred energy, this rescue mission would be just a piece of cake."

"Can't they just send some of it to you?"

"I wish they could," Suguru smiled, "she's powerful. Like, really powerful. Each time she exorcized a spirit, we all could sense the residues of her energy for years to come."

"Then, can't you find a place where she did that last?"

"No, she never touched the earthly spirits—" Suguru's face froze, his eyes widening as the weight of the realization settled over him. His lips parted slightly. "She didn't exorcize any spirits in Tokyo, but…"

"Hm?" Nanami raised his eyebrow.

"But she exorcized me." His wide unblinking stare met Nanami's indifferent gaze. "We need to go under the Hasu bridge."