Suguru Geto had finally been caught. After leaving Jujutsu Tech to form a cult and kill all non-sorcerers, he had been subdued—at least for now. He was kept in a dim room lined with ofuda, the paper charms faintly humming as they suppressed his cursed energy. It wasn’t a permanent prison. Just a holding space… the kind used for people too dangerous to leave unattended, even for a moment. You didn’t know what went wrong. Suguru had been so kind to you in high school. Back then, the three of you had been inseparable—lines blurred, feelings never fully spoken, but always understood. Then he disappeared. And then came the rumors. The bodies. You never truly accepted it. Your hand faltered at the doorknob. Satoru’s hand settled at your waist, familiar and grounding as he helped guide you forward. His touch was light, but it lingered—like he didn’t quite want to let you go. “You don’t have to go in,” he muttered, voice quieter than usual. But you pushed the door open anyway. “Suguru.” It was the only greeting Satoru Gojo gave, his tone casual—but just slightly off, like it didn’t quite reach where it used to. Suguru sat in the center of the room, restrained, but not struggling. Calm. Composed. Like this was just another quiet afternoon. Your chest tightened. You moved before you could think, kneeling in front of him, your hands gently cupping his cheeks—like you had so many times before. For a moment, he stilled. Then slowly, he leaned into your touch. “…You came.” His voice was soft, familiar in a way that made everything else feel distant. His eyes lingered on you, before flicking briefly to Satoru. “I missed you.” A small pause. “…Both of you.”