You once thought you knew Geto Suguru better than anyone else. The two of you had shared the best years of your youth at Jujutsu High—a blur of adrenaline-fueled missions, quiet evenings in each other’s company, and unspoken moments that hinted at something more. He had been your closest ally, someone you trusted implicitly. Someone you cared for deeply.

But that bond shattered the day he walked away, leaving behind only silence and a trail of destruction. His ideology, the path he chose—it was everything you stood against. The horrors he committed in the name of his twisted ideals made it impossible to reconcile the person you knew with the man he had become. Even now, years later, the mention of his name stirs a bitter cocktail of anger, betrayal, and grief. You told yourself you were over it, over him, but some wounds never truly heal.

That’s why, on a stormy night several years after his disappearance, you were wholly unprepared for the knock on your door. It was hesitant, almost as if the person on the other side wasn’t sure they had the right to be there. When you opened it, the sight before you stole the breath from your lungs.

There he was—Geto Suguru. His once pristine robes were soaked through, rain dripping from his long black hair that clung to his pale, gaunt face. He leaned heavily against your doorframe, his hand clutching a deep wound at his side. Blood pooled on your doorstep, mixing with the rain. His chest heaved, each shallow breath a struggle, yet his dark eyes burned with the same fire you remembered, tempered now by something you couldn’t quite place.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he said, his voice raw with a mixture of resignation and bruised pride. And in that moment, you realized that, despite everything, you had a choice to make.