Author's Note:Hugs to everyone who's been reading this, it makes my day every time I see your comments (sorry if I haven't responded to them all yet, I'll get around to it ASAP!). It's been so nice loving writing again, and it just makes me so happy that people are enjoying it. If there's anything you liked, want to see more of, or want to see added, I'd love all of your feedback to help me make this better xx Love to you all

The figure emerged from the shadows, their movements slow but deliberate, the faint hum of cursed energy surrounding them like a whisper of something old yet familiar. Gojo's breath hitched as the light caught the man's face, illuminating features he'd committed to memory long ago.

"Suguru?" Gojo's voice was barely above a whisper, his usual confidence stripped away in an instant.

Nanami stiffened at his side and fought the urge to wrench Satoru away from this place, his hand instinctively brushing against the hilt of his weapon. His sharp gaze darted between the figure and Gojo, searching for any sign of illusion, any tell that this wasn't what it seemed.

The man tilted his head, his dark eyes meeting Gojo's. There was no malice there, no glint of cunning or calculation. Instead, his gaze was steady, calm, almost… curious.

Gojo lowered his blindfold, the crystalline blue of his eyes scouring the man before him, so sure that he had to be an imposter, searching for any trace of a lie. But Gojo's chest tightened with the weight of an absolute certainty - thiswasSuguru. Not just the shape of him, but his soul, so intimately familiar it was like seeing a fragment of his own.

"Satoru," the man said softly. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Nanami noticed the faint tremble in Satoru's hands, the way his chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths as he tried to retain his composure.

Gojo felt his heart pounding erratically in his chest, a wild, staccato rhythm that echoed in the hollow space between disbelief and longing. Every instinct screamed at him to act, to prepare for a fight, but he couldn't move. His voice, when it came, was raw, edged with doubt. "Suguru… how?"

Suguru sighed softly, brushing a hand through his hair. "I was hoping you'd have the answer to that. The last thing I remember is our mission in Okinawa and what happened to Rika Amanai. Everything after that… it's blank."

Gojo's blood ran cold. Okinawa. That mission had been years ago, before everything had fallen apart, before Suguru's descent into darkness, before…

"That's impossible," Gojo said, his voice louder now, cracking slightly at the edges. "You-" He stopped himself, the words catching in his throat.

Nanami's hand tightened around his weapon. "What do you want?"

Suguru's gaze returned to Nanami, his expression calm but faintly confused. "Want? I'm not here to fight, if that's what you're worried about…why would I be?" He raised his hands slightly, a gesture of peace. "I came because I felt… drawn here. Like I wassupposedto be here."

Gojo stepped forward. "Do you remember anything? After Rika? Jujutsu High?"

Suguru hesitated, his brow furrowing deeply. "Fragments, maybe. Faces I don't recognise." He looked over to Nanami as he spoke, a faint smile on his lips. "You look different, Nanami. It suits you."

Nanami's expression didn't waver, his silence a clear refusal to accept the presence of the man before him.

"And… you. I remember you, Satoru. Always you."

Gojo's chest tightened, and he swallowed against the lump in his throat, and when did it get so hard tobreathe. "This doesn't make sense."

"It doesn't have to make sense right now," Suguru replied gently. "I'm not here to hurt anyone. I just want to understand."

"And if you don't like the answers you find?" Nanami cut in.

"Then I'll deal with that when the time comes."

The room fell silent, the air between them thick and suffocating. Gojo's mind raced, caught between disbelief and hope, between the undeniable presence of the man in front of him and the memories of everything he'd lost.

"Suguru," Gojo said finally, his voice quieter now. "If this is real, if you're really here…" He trailed off, his hand brushing against his blindfold hanging around his neck. "Why now?"

"I don't know," Suguru admitted, his voice soft. "But I need you to believe me. I'm not your enemy."

Gojo stared at him, his throat tightening with emotions he couldn't name. He didn't know what to say, what to think. All he knew was that for the first time in years, Suguru was standing in front of him. And he didn't know what to do with that.

Suguru felt as though he were caught between two overlapping realities. His surroundings were unfamiliar - the crumbling remnants of a place he could barely recall - but the energy in the air felt familiar, like a song he'd once known but forgotten the words to.

His focus shifted to Gojo, the sharp light of his eyes unmistakable even in their dim surroundings. The tension on Gojo's face made something twist inside Suguru, but he couldn't name it. It was like looking at someone from a dream, the details blurring around the edges.

Satoru.

The name lingered in his mind, comforting and warm, grounding him even as the rest of the world felt unsteady beneath his feet.

He remembered the last mission they'd shared - Satoru's laugh, bright and infectious, a stark contrast to the looming threats they had confronted at far too young, and then…

Nothing.

Suguru's memories ended in fragments, broken shards that refused to piece themselves together. A name whispered like an echo -Amanai.A surge of anger, blinding and suffocating, a disgust and disappointment in the nature of humans so sour he felt it curdle in his stomach… though he didn't know why. And now, standing here, he felt untethered, caught between who knew he was and what he thought he was supposed to be.

He had felt the pull to this place instinctively, as though an invisible hand had guided him. The moment he stepped into the dilapidated building, the feeling had intensified, like something was waiting for him. Or someone.

Gojo's face was sharper now, his expression unreadable, but Suguru could see the whirlwind of hurt and confusion in his eyes. The emotions there were raw and overwhelming, and Suguru felt his heart ache as he fought the urge to reach out to the man before him.

"Satoru," Suguru said quietly, his voice steady despite the chaos in his mind. "I don't know what's happened. I don't know why I'm here. But I'm not lying to you."

Gojo's jaw tightened. "You're not supposed to be here," his words settled between them unsteadily. "You're supposed to be…"

He didn't finish, but Suguru didn't need him to. The unspoken word hung heavy in the air.

Dead.

Nanami's gaze didn't leave Suguru. "If you're telling the truth," he spoke with calm deliberation, "then prove it. Tell us everything you remember. If you have no memory of what happened after your mission to escort the Star Plasma Vessel, then you don't know who you became. What you did."

Suguru's eyes narrowed slightly, his confusion clear. "What are you talking about?"

Nanami's jaw clenched. "You turned your back on everything. You embraced curse users, attacked and took the lives of innocent people. You nearly destroyed everything Jujutsu High stands for."

Suguru's expression shifted, his calm exterior cracking just enough to show the flicker of shock beneath. "No," he said quietly. "I wouldn't… I couldn't…"

"You did," Nanami said bluntly.

Gojo flinched at Nanami's tone but didn't interrupt.

Suguru's expression fell, his hand brushing against his temple as though trying to force the memories back. "I don't… I can't remember," he murmured.

Suguru's voice held a faint tremor to it now, a vulnerability that made Gojo take a step closer despite himself. "Suguru."

Suguru's head snapped up, his eyes locking onto Gojo's.

"If you don't remember, then we'll figure it out. But you have to let us. You have to let me."

Suguru's gaze lingered on Gojo, his expression torn between doubt and cautious optimism. Finally, he nodded. "Alright," he said softly. "I trust you."

Not wanting to cause any alarm to the assistant manager on duty, and in the interest of buying more time to think on the day's events, the three sorcerers opted to return to the grounds on foot. Surprising none of them, the walk back to Jujutsu High was steeped in tension. Suguru followed a step behind Gojo and Nanami, the sound of his shoes on the pavement sounding quiet and hesitant. The air around them felt charged, though no one spoke for the duration of the journey. Gojo was uncharacteristically quiet, his posture rigid, hands buried deep in his pockets. Nanami's watchful eyes flicked toward Suguru every so often, as if waiting for something - anything - that might indicate that he might pose a threat.

For Suguru, the silence was suffocating. He could feel the weight of their scrutiny, the invisible wall between himself and the two men walking ahead of him. It wasn't anger or hostility that he sensed, but something heavier - betrayal, perhaps. Or maybe it was something more akin to grief.

By the time they arrived at Jujutsu High, the sun was setting, long shadows creeping across the courtyard. Suguru paused at the edge of the grounds, his gaze sweeping over the familiar architecture. The sight stirred something deep within him, the faint flicker of comfort and recognition sending a pang through his chest.

No longer feeling Suguru behind him, Gojo stopped but didn't turn. His hands clenched briefly at his sides before he started walking again. "Come on," he said, his tone clipped. "We're not done yet."

Nanami gestured for Suguru to follow, his expression unreadable.

Inside the administrative wing, Principal Yaga stood waiting. His arms were crossed over his chest, his expression a mixture of incredulity and guarded concern. His sharp eyes fixed on Suguru, narrowing slightly as he stepped into the room.

"Satoru," Yaga began, his tone heavy. "What is this?"

Gojo scratched the back of his neck, his posture deceptively casual. "Your guess is as good as mine. We found him at one of Suguru's first bases of operations before-" He swallowed thickly, for once struggling to find the proper words to continue.

"Suguru Geto," Yaga said as he moved closer, his eyes searching the face of the student he once knew so well. "You shouldn't be here. You—" He cut himself off, his jaw tightening. Suguru stood a few feet behind Gojo, his hands loosely at his sides.

Yaga's eyes flicked to Gojo, searching for an explanation. Gojo exhaled sharply, pulling down his blindfold and rubbing a hand over his face. "He doesn't remember anything after Okinawa," he said. "None of it. And I believe him."

Nanami's brow furrowed slightly at Gojo's declaration, though he didn't voice his doubt. Yaga, however, wasn't as restrained.

"Youbelievehim?" Yaga repeated, his voice rising slightly. "Satoru, do you realise what you're saying? What you're asking us to accept?"

Gojo's eyes hardened, the usual levity in his expression replaced by something colder. "I know exactly what I'm saying," he replied. "I'm saying that Suguru - this Suguru - isn't the man we fought. Not yet. Maybe not ever."

Yaga's lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze shifting back to Suguru. "And you're sure of that?"

"As sure as I can be. I don't know how or why he's here, but I know him. I know when he's lying, and he's not lying now."

Yaga lingered on Gojo for a long moment before he finally nodded, though his posture didn't relax. "If you're wrong about this - "

"I'm not," Gojo interrupted firmly. "But if I am, I'll handle it."

Suguru shifted slightly, his eyes flickering downward to the worn wood beneath him. "I understand if you don't trust me," he brushed a hand through his hair and sighed. "I wouldn't trust me either."

Yaga let out a heavy huff of air he hadn't realised he'd been holding, his shoulders lowering slightly. "For now, he stays under close observation," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "No missions, no interactions with the students unless supervised. And if there's even a hint of a threat, Satoru - "

"There won't be," Gojo said, unsure if he was trying to reassure himself or Yaga more.

Nanami, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "You're certain you can manage this?"

Gojo glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You've seen me juggle worse."

Nanami didn't look convinced, but he nodded nonetheless. "I hope you're right."

After their meeting concluded, Nanami left without a word in the direction of the library. With just the three of them remaining, Yaga gestured toward a room down the hall. "He can stay there for now. As I said, keep him away from the students until we've figured out what's going on."

Suguru followed the direction of Yaga's hand, his expression neutral. "Thank you," Suguru said, his voice heavy with genuine and heartfelt gratitude.

Yaga didn't reply, already looking at Gojo as if to remind him of the stakes.

Gojo turned to Suguru, the smile on his lips faint but genuine. "Guess you're my responsibility now. Lucky you."

Suguru huffed a quiet laugh, though it lacked any real humour. "Haven't I always been?"

The words struck deeper than Gojo expected, but he fought hard to keep his expression neutral. "Come on," he said, gesturing for Suguru to follow. "Let's get you settled."

The atmosphere in the small room where Suguru now stayed was stifling. It wasn't just the lingering tension from the meeting with Yaga - it was the smothering uncertainty that pressed down on everyone involved. Gojo leaned casually against the doorframe, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he watched Suguru sit on the edge of the plain bed frame, his posture unusually subdued.

"You're thinking too hard, I can practically see the gears turning," Gojo said finally, breaking the quiet.

Suguru glanced up, his dark eyes shadowed. "Hard not to," he admitted. "It's like walking through a fog. I can see glimpses of things, but they don't make sense."

"Like what?"

Suguru hesitated, his fingers brushing lightly against the hem of his sleeve. "People I can't recognise. Places I've never been. And… anger." His voice dropped slightly, his brow furrowing as he stared at his hands. "So much anger."

Gojo felt nausea coil in his stomach at the reminder of the nightmare Suguru had become, and pushed off the doorframe, stepping closer. "Anger?"

"I don't know," Suguru murmured, his voice strained. "But it feels like it's mine. Like it's coming from me. And that scares me."

Gojo's chest tightened, the weight of Suguru's words settling over him. He wanted to say something, to offer reassurance, comforting words, a tight embrace, and to tell him he knew exactly where that anger originated and that it wasokay-

Before he could respond, a knock at the door interrupted them. Nanami stepped inside, his expression as neutral as ever, though his eyes flicked briefly to Suguru with a faint hint of suspicion.

"I found something," Nanami said, directing his words to Gojo.

"What kind of 'something'?" Gojo's voice was dripping with curiosity.

Nanami held up a file, the edges worn from handling. "Reports from the area where we found Suguru. Locals mentioned seeing strange activity before he appeared - cursed energy disturbances, unusual weather patterns that seemed concentrated over that particular suburb. It matches other locations tied to Kido's movements."

"I swear Nanamin, if I see you bring in any more mission files I'm gonna be sick." Gojo's grin faltered slightly, his focus sharpening. "You think Kido's involved in this?"

"It's possible," Nanami replied. "If he's experimenting with techniques that disrupt and alter the shape of cursed energy, he could be responsible for more than just the attacks."

"For the attacks, maybe, but to bring back the dead -"

Suguru's gaze lifted at the mention of Kido, his brow furrowing slightly. "Kido?" he repeated, the name sparking something faint in his expression.

Nanami glanced at him, his posture stiffening slightly. "You recognise the name?"

Suguru opened his mouth to reply but stopped, his expression tightening as his hand rose to his temple. "I… I think so," he said slowly, his voice strained. "But I don't know why."

Gojo stepped forward, his concern breaking through his usual composure. "Hey, take it easy," he said, his tone softer.

Suguru's breathing quickened, his hand clutching his temple as his other arm braced against the cot. "There's something… something in my head," he murmured, his voice trembling. "It's like… it's breaking thr-"

And then without warning, Suguru's body tensed and pitched forward.

"Suguru!" Gojo moved instantly, catching him before he hit the floor. He lowered him carefully, his hands steady despite the sudden rush of adrenaline. "What the hell just happened?"

Nanami knelt beside them, his fingers brushing against Suguru's wrist to check his pulse. "He's alive," he said, his voice calm but clipped. "But his cursed energy is fluctuating wildly."

Gojo's jaw tightened as he shifted Suguru into a more stable position. Suguru's body jerked slightly, his face twisting in pain. His eyes fluttered open briefly, unfocused and wild.

Gojo's heart clenched, his grip tightening slightly on Suguru's shoulders. "Suguru, stay with me," he said urgently.

But Suguru didn't answer. His body finally stilled, his breathing evening out as his cursed energy settled into an unnerving calm.

Nanami stood, a beacon of calm that Gojo was grateful for in that moment. "We need to get him to Shoko. Whatever just happened, I am doubtful it was just physical."

Gojo nodded, his expression grim as he lifted Suguru carefully. "And we need to figure out what Kido's doing…Because if he's messing with Suguru's mind, this is only going to get worse."

The infirmary's lights cast a sterile glow across the room, illuminating the pale features of Suguru's face as he lay motionless on the cot. His breathing was even, but faint tremors rippled through his body, almost imperceptible. The faint hum of cursed energy monitors filled the silence, their flickering readings displaying erratic patterns that only deepened the unease in the room.

Gojo stood near the foot of the bed, his sharp eyes darting between the monitors and Suguru's face, the tension in his jaw betraying the calm he was trying to project. Nanami leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, eyes following Shoko as she moved with precise efficiency around the room.

"He's stable for now," Shoko said, pulling off her gloves with a practiced motion. "But his cursed energy is… erratic. It's there, but it's not flowing like it should. Not too unlike what's happening with your cursed energy, Gojo, but his techniques aren't being affected, only his body's stability."

Gojo frowned, his hands buried deep in his pockets. "Erratic how? Like someone's messing with it?"

Shoko nodded, gesturing toward the faint glow of the monitors. "Exactly. I'm seeing traces of external interference - cursed energy that doesn't belong to him, embedded deep in his system. It's faint, but it's there."

Nanami stepped closer, his posture straightening. "Embedded? What are we talking about here? A parasite? A technique?"

"Possibly both," Shoko replied, her tone clinical. "It's not like anything I've seen before. Whoever did this knew what they were doing. They managed to disrupt his energy without outright destroying or blocking it."

Gojo's eyes darkened, his fingers twitching at his sides. "Let me guess - Kido?"

"Probably," Shoko said, tapping at one of the monitors. "This kind of precision lines up with what we know about his experiments. If this is his work, then Suguru might be just another part of Kido's larger plan."

Nanami's gaze flicked to Suguru, his expression grim. "What would be the point of something like this? Controlling him? Using him as a weapon?"

"Maybe," Shoko said, leaning against the counter. "Or maybe it's about triggering specific behaviors or memories. Or people. If this is tied to Kido's experiments, it's possible he's trying to manipulate Suguru into… something. Or you, Gojo."

Gojo let out a sharp breath, raking a hand through his hair. "Something like what? He's already said he doesn't remember anything after Amanai."

"Doesn't mean the memories aren't there," Shoko pointed out. "They could be buried, suppressed - or worse, altered."

Gojo's hands curled into fists. "Can we wake him up?"

"Not yet," Shoko said firmly. "Whatever's happening in his head, it's not safe to push him. His cursed energy is too unstable, and any sudden shifts could make things worse."

Gojo's jaw tightened, frustration simmering beneath his usually calm exterior. "So what are we supposed to do? Sit around and wait for Kido to make his next move?"

"For now, yes," Shoko replied bluntly. "We stabilise him first. Then we figure out what's going on."

"And if it's already too late?" Gojo shot back, his voice rising slightly.

"Then we deal with it," Nanami said. "Rushing in blind won't help anyone. Least of all him."

Gojo exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging slightly as he turned back to Suguru. He lingered on Suguru's still form, the faint rise and fall of his chest the only sign of life.

As the minutes stretched into hours, the room fell into a tense silence. Shoko worked quietly at her desk, her fingers flying over her notes as she compiled her findings. Nanami remained leaning against the wall, never letting Suguru's unconscious form stray too far from his periphery.

Gojo, however, couldn't sit still. He paced the length of the room, his movements restless. Every so often, his eyes would dart to Suguru, as though expecting him to wake up at any moment.

"You're wearing a hole in the floor," Nanami said dryly, not looking up from the novel in his hands.

Gojo shot him a half-hearted glare but didn't stop pacing. "I hate this," he admitted. "Sitting here, waiting for something to happen. It feels wrong."

Nanami straightened slightly, his arms still crossed. "Would you rather risk waking him up and making things worse?"

Gojo didn't answer immediately. He stopped near the cot, searching Suguru's face for any indication that he was close to waking. "I don't know," he admitted. "I just… I need answers."

"We all do," Shoko said from her desk, not looking up from her work. "But you need to be patient, Gojo. Rushing this won't help anyone."

Gojo's lips twitched into a faint, humourless smile. "You're all really good at making me feel like an idiot, you know that?"

"Only because you make it so easy," Shoko replied without missing a beat.

Despite himself, Gojo let out a soft chuckle.

The infirmary was quiet except for the faint hum of monitors, but Gojo couldn't find peace in the stillness. Despite who Suguru became before his death, Gojo couldn't quite bring himself to leave the man's side. Despite everything, he wanted to be there when he woke up.

Over the next hour, however, his restless energy pulled him away from the cot where Suguru lay and into the adjacent hallway, his steps echoing faintly in the sterile space. He leaned against the wall, head tilted back, the blindfold around his neck feeling heavier than usual.

Nanami followed silently, his evenly paced footsteps a steady counterpoint to Gojo's tension. He stopped a few feet away, his posture composed, but even Nanami's body language belied the emotional strain that even he was not immune to. "You've been pacing all night."

Gojo exhaled sharply, a humourless chuckle slipping out. "You keeping tabs on me, Nanamin? I'm touched."

"I'm keeping tabs on the situation," Nanami corrected. He moved closer, his arms folding across his chest. "You're not handling this well."

Gojo tilted his head toward him, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips. "What gave it away? The pacing, the lack of jokes, or the way I've been staring at nothing for hours?"

"All of it," Nanami replied, biting back the urge to tell Gojo that the notable absence of quips felt like a silver lining to the whole situation. "You're distracted."

Gojo's smirk faded, his eyes dropping to the floor. "Can you blame me? He's… alive. And not just alive - he'shere. After everything."

"That doesn't mean you have to carry this alone," Nanami said, his tone softening slightly. "We're all trying to figure out what's happening."

"Yeah, well, 'figuring it out' isn't exactly my strong suit," Gojo muttered. He pushed off the wall, his hands burying themselves in his pockets. "I'm more the type to step in to prevent things from getting worse…or once things have already fallen apart."

"Then let me handle the pieces," Nanami said, his voice carrying a calm authority that demanded Gojo's trust. "You've been trying to hold everything together since the moment he appeared. You can't keep doing this."

Gojo turned toward him, his sharp blue eyes catching the dim light. For a moment, the usual humor in his gaze was replaced by something raw, something unguarded. "What if I can't fix this?" he asked softly.

Nanami's brow furrowed. "You don't have to fix it, Satoru. That's not what this is about."

"Isn't it?" Gojo's voice cracked slightly, the weight of his words heavier than either of them expected. "If he's back because of Kido - or worse, because of something I did - then it's on me. All of it."

Nanami stepped closer, his hand hovering near Gojo's shoulder before finally resting there. The touch was firm but steady, grounding in a way that neither acknowledged outright. "Not everything is about you," Nanami said quietly. "You can't control this, and you can't blame yourself for it. What you can do is be here. For him, for the students, for all of us."

Gojo blinked, his gaze flicking to Nanami's face. The usual sharpness in his expression softened for a fleeting moment, replaced by something quieter. He hadn't realised how close Nanami had gotten - close enough that Gojo could pick up the faint scent of aftershave and something distinctlyNanami. Gojo swallowed, the quip he'd usually fire off caught somewhere in the back of his throat. Instead, his eyes searched Nanami's face - tracing the line of his jaw, the way the faint light caught the sharp edges of his cheekbones, the almost unnoticeable warmth in his eyes that Nanami hid with expert precision under his well-manicured aloof and calculated exterior.

For Nanami, the moment was disorienting. He could see the slideshow of Gojo's expressions changing - the shift from playful deflection to something unguarded. It wasn't a side of Gojo he'd ever expected to see, and he felt it twist something in his chest. The man who always seemed untouchable now looked achingly human, his usual bravado replaced by a vulnerability that was as startling as it was compelling. And yet, there was still a magnetic pull to him, like the world bent slightly around his presence, drawing Nanami closer without a second thought.

His hand hovered briefly at his side before he shifted, fingertips brushing against Nanami's wrist as if testing the boundaries of the moment. The fleeting contact sent a spark up Nanami's arm, and the hesitation in Gojo's eyes drew Nanami in further, his gaze lingering on the soft curve of Gojo's mouth.

Gojo opened his mouth to speak but the words still refused to come. He leaned in just slightly, the space between them narrowing until Nanami could feel the faint warmth of his breath.

Nanami's restraint frayed at the edges, his desire sharper than he'd anticipated. It wasn't enough to feel Gojo this close - he wanted to claim the very air he exhaled. Nanami wanted - no,needed- to occupy the same fragile space in a way that felt wholly, irrevocablyreal.

But just as Gojo tilted closer, his lips hovering a breath away, he felt the phone in his pocket buzz loudly, the chime of an incoming message insistent and grating. Gojo flinched, his eyes snapping to the source of the sound as reality came crashing back in, the spell shattered in an instant.

With a quiet, almost bitter laugh, Gojo stepped back, slipping the phone from his pocket. "Duty calls," he muttered, and though his voice was light it lacked its usual spark, leaving the moment unfinished and the air between them heavier than before.

His brow furrowed as he glanced at the screen. The number was untraceable, the text simple but chilling:

"How does it feel to see a ghost, Satoru?"

Nanami stepped closer, his sharp eyes narrowing as he read over Gojo's shoulder. "Kido," he said grimly.

"Who else?" Gojo said under his breath, his jaw tightening. He scrolled down, finding another line of text waiting for him.

"He's where he belongs. Soon, so will you."

Gojo's grip on the phone tightened, feeling the weakened remnants of his cursed energy around him flaring briefly before he forced it back under control. "This asshole's been watching us," he said, his words laced with a simmering anger that threatened to boil over.

Nanami's posture stiffened, his mind racing through the implications. "He's baiting you. Don't give him what he wants."

Gojo's lips curved into a sharp grin, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Oh, I'll give him something, alright. But it won't be what he's expecting."

Before Nanami could respond, another message appeared.

"Meet me where it began. Come alone."

Gojo's eyes narrowed, his phone suddenly feeling heavier in his hand. "Where we found Suguru," he said, his voice quieter now.

"You can't go alone," Nanami said firmly.

Gojo didn't respond immediately. His gaze was distant, his mind already turning over the possibilities. "If it means getting answers, I don't care."

Nanami stepped in front of him, his expression unyielding. "You're not doing this on impulse. We plan. We move carefully. If this is a trap - and it will be, Satoru - we need to be ready."

Gojo stared at him for a long moment before finally nodding, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Fine," he said. "But I'm not waiting long. If Kido wants to play games, I'm ending it."

"This place reeks of a trap," Nanami murmured.

"What's the point of being the bad guy if you don't make your lair look like it came out of a horror movie, Nanamin?"

Nanami didn't reply, instead his focus was on scanning the jagged walls and flickering shadows. The building's architecture was warped by years of exposure to the elements. He noticed strange sigils that were etched into the stone, faintly glowing in some areas as if feeding off the malevolent energy that pulsed through the air.

"Stay sharp."

"Aren't I always?" Gojo replied, the tension in his voice not going unnoticed by Nanami.

The corridor ahead forked into two narrow passages, each darker and more foreboding than the last. Gojo paused, his head tilting slightly as he tried to gauge where the most recent remains of cursed energy was flowing from.

"The left feels stronger," he said finally, glancing back at Nanami.

"Then it's probably a trap."

"Probably," Gojo agreed, smiling faintly. "But it's also probably where Kido's hiding."

Before Nanami could respond, a sudden tremor shook the walls around them. The cursed energy in the air surged violently, the ground beneath their feet cracking as the sigils on the walls flared with light.

"Move!" Nanami shouted, lunging forward to push Gojo back just as the ceiling above them collapsed.

The dust settled quickly, revealing a thick wall of rubble separating the two of them. Nanami stood on one side, his knuckles white around the handle of his weapon.

"Gojo!" he called, his voice cutting through the chaos as the concrete around them settled.

"I'm fine," Gojo's voice drawled from the other side, slightly muffled. "Guess we picked the right path after all."

Nanami's jaw tightened. "Stay where you are. I'll find a way around. Without access to your techniques, you're in no condition to figh-"

"Don't bother," Gojo interrupted. "Kido clearly wants us split up. Might as well play along."

"This isn't a game, Satoru," Nanami snapped.

"It never is."

There was a pause before his voice came again, louder this time. "I'll draw his attention, it's me he's here for anyways. You focus on finding anything useful. If we're lucky, he'll leave his diary out with all the juicy details highlighted."

Nanami's lips pressed into a thin line. "Be careful."

"Always am."

The sound of Gojo's footsteps faded into the distance.

Nanami exhaled sharply, turning back toward the path ahead. The cursed energy was weaker on this side, but it still buzzed faintly against his senses, a reminder that the entire structure was a web of Kido's making.

The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly, the flickering sigils casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls. Gojo's senses were on high alert. Without Limitless, every step felt more precarious, the usual layer of security that kept him untouchable stripped away.

The cursed energy here was oppressive, its weight pressing against his chest like a physical force. His body still felt sluggish from the battle days before, and every movement reminded him of the fragility he refused to acknowledge.

A low hum filled the air, growing louder with each step he took. The sigils along the walls began to shift, their light intensifying as the hum turned into a deep, resonant vibration.

Gojo stopped, his eyes narrowing behind his blindfold. "There you are."

The air in front of him shimmered, and a figure began to take shape. Kido stepped forward, his face twisted into a calm but unsettling smile. His presence radiated control, every movement deliberate as if he had already won.

"Satoru Gojo," Kido purred, his voice sickeningly smooth and dripping with contempt. "Far from invincible now, aren't you?"

"Still plenty dangerous, though. Care to find out?"

Kido chuckled softly, his hand lifting slightly. The cursed energy around them shifted, warping the air into jagged waves that crashed against Gojo like an invisible tide.

Gojo braced himself, his body tensing as the force pressed against him. It wasn't painful, but it was enough to remind him of the power he'd lost.

"You feel it, don't you?" Kido said, yellowed teeth bared in a smile that looked more like a grimace. "The weight of your own cursed energy turning against you. You're not untouchable anymore, you're just…human."

"Funny," Gojo said, his voice sharp. "You're not the first person to try to knock me off my pedestal. They all end up in the same place."

"And where's that?" Kido asked, amusement lacing his tone.

"Six feet under."

Manipulated cursed energy that took on the form of shadows built from shot forward without warning, lancing toward Gojo in a deadly arc. He sidestepped the first strike, his movements quick but lacking the effortless grace he was used to. The second shadow clipped his arm, slicing through fabric and skin with a stinging sharpness.

Gojo hissed softly, his hand instinctively moving to the wound as he darted behind a broken pillar for cover. His cursed energy flared reflexively, but the usual surge of power felt muddied and muted.

"Ah, Satoru," Kido's voice rang out, almost delighted. "Feeling it, aren't you? That heaviness in your limbs, the sluggishness in your energy. It's not just the aftermath of the ripple - it's my technique."

Gojo peeked out from behind the pillar, his sharp eyes narrowing. "You talk a lot for someone who hasn't landed a real hit yet."

Kido's smile didn't waver. "You're fighting your own body as much as you're fighting me. Every step you take, every technique you try to summon - it's costing you. How long do you think you can last before your strength runs out completely?"

Gojo gritted his teeth. He darted forward, closing the distance between them in a burst of speed that belied his earlier sluggishness. Kido's shadows rose to meet him, forming a barrier that bristled with sharp edges. Gojo skidded to a halt just before impact, his fingers brushing the air as cursed energy flared weakly in his palm.

Blue.

The technique sputtered, weaker than he intended, but it was just enough to disrupt the barrier. The shadows scattered, and Gojo surged forward, his fist aiming for Kido's smirking face.

Kido caught the blow with a tendril of shadow, twisting Gojo's momentum against him and throwing him back. Gojo landed hard, the impact reverberating through his body as he rolled to his feet.

"Without Infinity, you're nothing but brute force and reflex. Impressive, but limited."

The fight continued, each exchange pushing Gojo closer to his limits. Kido's technique wasn't just targeting his cursed energy - it was taxing his physical stamina, amplifying the weight of every movement. Each strike Gojo landed was countered with a punishing blow that sent him reeling, his breaths growing shorter and more laboured.

He leaned against a fractured column, his hand pressed against his ribs where Kido's cursed shadows had left a deep gash. Blood seeped through his uniform, staining the black fabric. His vision blurred slightly as he forced himself to focus.

"Getting tired?" Kido taunted, his shadows coiling around him like serpents. "You're not used to this, are you? Struggling. Bleeding."

Gojo straightened slowly, his body protesting every movement. "Maybe I am," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "But I've still got more than enough in me to take you down."

Kido's shadows surged forward again, but this time Gojo didn't move to dodge. He planted his feet, his cursed energy flaring weakly but steadily as he raised his hands.

The shadows struck, but they didn't land. Gojo twisted his fingers in a sharp motion, redirecting the energy and forcing it to collapse inward. The recoil sent him stumbling back, his knees threatening to buckle, but he held his ground.

The shadows struck again, lashing out like tendrils of smoke-turned-steel. Gojo twisted his body, narrowly avoiding one strike, but another slashed across his upper arm. He stumbled slightly, glancing to see crimson staining the torn fabric of his uniform. The pain was sharp and immediate, searing through the muscle like a hot blade.

Gojo could feel the strain deepening. His cursed energy flickered unsteadily around him, responding sluggishly to his commands. He tried to summonBluelike he managed just minutes before, the technique sparking weakly in his palm before dissipating like smoke.

Shit.

Kido didn't wait. The shadows surged forward again, faster this time, forcing Gojo to react on instinct. He ducked and weaved, his movements sharp but lacking the usual effortless fluidity. One tendril tore through his side, slicing through the fabric of his uniform. Another strike plummeted into his shoulder, sending him reeling back into a jagged column.

The impact knocked the breath from his lungs, his chest heaving as he pressed a hand to the fresh wound on his ribs. The sharp pain of the cut spread outward, pulsing in time with his heartbeat as blood seeped through his fingers.

Gojo straightened slowly, the grin on his face a pale echo of his usual confidence. "You're gonna have to try harder than that."

Kido tilted his head, his smile growing sharper. "Oh, I will."

The shadows came again, this time faster, more erratic. Kido wasn't holding back anymore, his confidence evident in every movement. Gojo's sharp gaze tracked the tendrils, his body moving instinctively even as exhaustion weighed him down.

He ducked beneath one strike, twisting his body to avoid another. The movement sent a fresh wave of pain through his side, his vision swimming briefly before he forced himself to refocus. A third tendril struck low, catching his thigh and slicing through muscle with a sickening force.

Gojo stumbled, his knee buckling slightly before he caught himself. His leg screamed in protest, the wound throbbing with every step. Blood dripped steadily to the ground, pooling beneath his feet as Kido's laughter echoed through the chamber.

"You're running out of steam. You're no different from the rest of us without your precious Infinity," Kido spat disdainfully.

The shadows lunged again, and this time, Gojo didn't dodge entirely. He twisted just enough to let the tendrils graze his arm, the sting sharp but shallow. The moment they passed, he surged forward, closing the distance between himself and Kido in an instant.

Kido's eyes widened slightly, his confidence faltering as Gojo's fist connected with his side. The blow sent Kido staggering, his shadows rippling erratically as he struggled to maintain control.

Gojo didn't let up. He followed the attack with a sharp kick, his injured leg screaming in protest but delivering enough force to knock Kido back further. The movement cost him - another tendril struck him under his ribs, biting deep - but the satisfaction of landing a clean hit outweighed the pain.

As they exchanged blows, the pain became staggering, and Gojo gritted his teeth to keep from crying out as a barbed tendril withdrew itself from his stomach. His vision blurred momentarily, and his balance faltered. He stumbled back a step, his hand pressing tightly against his side in a futile attempt to stem the bleeding.

Kido's grin widened as he watched Gojo struggle. "You're running on fumes now, you won't last much longer."

Before Gojo could respond, a sharp vibration rippled through the chamber, the cursed energy in the air shifting violently. The sigils on the walls flared with light, their glow pulsing erratically as if reacting to some unseen force.

Kido's expression darkened, his head snapping toward the source of the disturbance. The shadows around him recoiled slightly, their movements seeming to writhe in displeasure.

"What's this?" Kido muttered, his calm demeanour slipping for the first time. His gaze shifted back to Gojo, though his focus was clearly divided. "Looks like our time's up for now."

Gojo straightened, his legs trembling faintly beneath him as he forced himself to stay upright. "Leaving me already on our first date? I thought we were just getting started."

"When we meet again, I'll make sure you don't leave the battlefield alive."

The shadows coiled tightly around Kido, wrapping him in a cocoon of cursed energy. Before Gojo could react, the tendrils burst outward, creating a surge of energy that filled the chamber with a deafening roar. When the dust settled, Kido was gone.

For a moment, Gojo just stood there, his chest heaving as the echoes of the battle faded into silence. The suffocating weight of the cursed energy began to dissipate, but it left behind a hollowness that settled deep in his bones.

His knees buckled, and he caught himself against a crumbling pillar, his hand smearing blood across the rough stone. The gash on his side throbbed painfully, each shallow breath sending a sharp jolt of fire through his stomach. His left arm hung limply at his side, the cut on his forearm weeping sluggishly, staining the tattered fabric of his sleeve.

The room spun slightly as he tried to straighten, his vision narrowing to a tunnel as he felt the edges of his consciousness waver. His head felt heavy, like his thoughts were sinking into a thick fog. The adrenaline that had kept him moving was fading, replaced by a crushing exhaustion that made every movement feel like a Herculean effort.

Just a little forced his legs to move as he staggered toward the exit…Get back to Nanamin.

His footsteps echoed faintly in the empty chamber, each step more laboured than the last. His side burned, the warmth of fresh blood trickling down to his hip. His breaths came shallow and uneven, each inhale catching in his chest like broken glass.

As he stumbled into the corridor, his hand reached for the wall, his fingers brushing against the rough stone as he used it for support. His knees threatened to give out entirely, and he pressed his forehead against the cool surface, his teeth gritting against the wave of nausea that rose in his throat.

The weight of his injuries bore down on him, the white hot fire in his side radiating outward in sharp, pulsing waves. His leg ached fiercely where Kido's shadows had sliced through muscle, each step sending jolts of agony through his body. His arm throbbed dully, the cuts deeper than he'd initially realised.

He tried to summon his Reverse Cursed Technique, his hand glowing faintly with cursed energy before flickering out. The energy slipped through his grasp like water, the disruption in his flow leaving him stranded in his broken body.

The world around him tilted suddenly, his vision blurring as the edges of his sight darkened. The stone was rough and cold under his fingertips, grounding him momentarily as the spinning in his head intensified.

Gojo let out a shaky breath, trying to blink away the haze clouding his vision. It didn't help. The chamber seemed to sway around him, the shadows on the walls dancing unnaturally. His stomach churned violently, a wave of nausea rising fast and relentless.

"Shit," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, tinged with exhaustion and pain.

The nausea reached its peak, and he barely had time to lean forward before retching, his body convulsing with the force of it. He gripped the pillar tightly, his knees threatening to give out as the spinning worsened. The act of vomiting sent fresh pain shooting through his side, the strain pulling at his wounds in a way that made his vision blur further.

When the heaving finally subsided, he stayed hunched over, his forehead resting against the cool stone as he tried to catch his breath. His body felt like it was collapsing in on itself, every muscle trembling, every wound throbbing in time with the pounding in his skull.

Concussion,he concluded dimly, the thought sluggish as it drifted through the fog in his mind. A sharp blow to the back of his head during the fight - he'd brushed it off at the time, too focused on staying alive.

Gojo pushed off the pillar slowly, his hand pressed tightly against his side as he straightened. The motion sent another wave of dizziness crashing over him, his vision narrowing to a tunnel. He stumbled forward, his steps uneven as he fought to stay upright.

The corridor ahead felt endless, the faint light of the exit taunting him in the distance. Gojo dragged himself forward, his hand skimming the wall for balance. His breaths came in shallow gasps, every inhale catching painfully in his chest.

An eternity later, the nausea returned in force, and he stopped abruptly, leaning heavily against the wall as he doubled over again. His stomach heaved, but there was nothing left to bring up. The dry retching left him trembling, his knees threatening to buckle beneath him.

The cool surface of the wall brought him a brief relief against the feverish heat radiating from his skin. His fingers curled against the stone, his grip tightening as he forced himself to keep moving.

The exit was closer now, the light growing brighter with each agonising step. Gojo stumbled again, his vision flickering as black spots danced in the corners of his eyes.

When Gojo finally stepped into the open air, the sunlight hit him like a physical blow. He squinted against the brightness, his head spinning anew as the sickness in his stomach roared back to life. He staggered forward a few steps before his legs gave out completely, his knees hitting the ground with a jarring thud.

Gojo didn't know how or when, but Nanami was there in an instant, his hands gripping Gojo's shoulders firmly as he steadied him. "Satoru," he said sharply, his voice cutting through the fog clouding Gojo's mind. "What happened?"

Gojo let out a breathless laugh, his head lolling slightly as he leaned into Nanami's support. "Just… took a little longer than I thought," he murmured, his words slurred. "Kido bailed."

Nanami's eyes swept over him, taking in the blood-soaked uniform, the shallow breaths, the faint tremor in his limbs, and the way Gojo seemed to sway where he knelt, pupils blown and uneven. "You're concussed," he said bluntly, his voice tight with controlled urgency. "And bleeding too much."

"Wow," Gojo muttered, a faint but genuine grin tugging at his lips despite the pain. "Who knew you moonlighted as Captain Obvious?"

"Shut up," Nanami snapped, though his grip on Gojo's shoulders was steady and careful. "Can you walk?"

Gojo's legs trembled as he tried to push himself up, but his strength gave out as he slumped heavily against Nanami.

Nanami's chest ached at the sight of him, and he adjusted his hold to support more of Gojo's weight. "You're an idiot," he said, his tone as close to exasperation as Gojo had ever heard it. "But you're not dying here."

Gojo chuckled softly, groaning weakly as the sound faded into a ragged cough. "Didn't plan to."

They moved away from the ruins of the building, Nanami practically carrying Gojo as his injuries and exhaustion finally caught up with him. The world around Gojo blurred and swayed, as he clung to the steady presence of Nanami, the anchor he hoped would keep him from slipping under completely.