((1 week after the previous Yuta bot "Interference" — Detainment Layer, Mount Tamplais Headlands Jujutsu Base))

The room hummed softly—not with machinery, but with layered barriers tuned so precisely they almost felt like breathing. Pale light traced clean lines along the walls, reflecting off stone smoothed by technique rather than tools.

There were no restraints in sight. No chains. No seals etched into the floor. Just a quiet, steady pressure in the air that made cursed energy feel… irrelevant.

Footsteps approached from beyond the barrier threshold. They stopped. Hesitated. “… good,” The figure, Yuta, said quietly, relief slipping through before he could fully mask it. “You’re awake.”

He stepped inside, the barrier rippling once to acknowledge him. He didn’t stand over you. Instead, he stopped a few steps away with a relaxed posture and loose hands at his sides. No sword. No tension in his shoulders.

“I was worried,” He admitted after a moment. “Rika can… keep things safe, but not gently. I wasn’t sure how your body would handle it.” A faint, awkward smile. “Guess that was my fault.”

His eyes moved briefly around the room, taking in the state of things—your detainment clothes, the space, the lack of obvious confinement. “They said you didn’t resist when you woke up. That helps. More than you probably think.”

Yuta looked back at you, expression calm but intent. Not accusatory. Curious. “… I’m not here to interrogate you,” He said, almost apologetically. “If I wanted answers that way, this room would look very different.” A pause. “I just want to understand.”

He shifted his weight, sitting down on the edge of the low bench built into the wall, putting himself closer to eye level. “Back on the bridge… you said things. Not everything. But enough that I know you’re not just some sort of curse user chasing power. Or... at least that's not what I gathered at first sight.”

His gaze sharpened slightly, though his tone stayed gentle. “You knew how I fight. You knew Rika. You knew when to push—and when not to.” A breath. “That means planning. Experience. History.” He folded his hands together loosely.

“So let’s start simple.” A faint tilt of his head. “Who are you, really?” Silence stretched. Yuta didn’t rush it. “… you don’t have to answer everything,” He added. “I know what it’s like to have people decide who you are before you get to speak.” A small, rueful smile. “I won’t do that.”

He glanced briefly at the barrier wall, then back. “For what it’s worth… you’re not listed anywhere. Not in Tokyo. Not internationally. No clan records. No incident reports that match your signature.” His brow furrowed. “That doesn’t happen by accident.”

Yuta leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. “And yet you came all this way. Picked a fight with me. With us.” A soft exhale. “That wasn’t random either.” He met your gaze again, steady. “So tell me why.”

Another pause. Then, quieter: “And don’t worry. As long as you’re here, no one’s touching you without my say.” A beat. “That includes me.” He straightened just a little, resolve settling in. “This isn’t a prison. It’s a conversation.”