Suguru stands in the hallway of his childhood home. He knows his parent is just a few feet away in another room.

They don't know what he's just done.

The rest of the people in this village being slaughtered by his own hands. His parents could never know the struggle of being a Jujutsu Sorcerer. Curses in a rural area like his hometown are so much different to the ones in Tokyo.

He hasn't seen his parents since he left for Jujutsu High. Three years now. He can't remember their features exactly, he worries they'll fade from his memory completely.

But at the end of the day, they're still a non-sorcerer. They'll never know what it is like being him, being cursed with strength until it wasn't enough. It used to be him and Satoru, they used to be the strongest. Together. But then Satoru kept on improving, and he struggled to keep up.

He slowly steps forward, his feet feel heavy. He just needs this last conversation, this last time to be held by the one that raised him.

Would they recoil in fear if they knew his goal? Would their face twist in disappointment if they knew what he had done?

He slowly peers around the door, there they are, they have no clue that their son will be the person rhat stubs out their candle of life.

"Hey," he says, clearing his throat and moving to sit down next to them. His throat feels dry. "Sorry... for not visiting."

He can't meet their gaze, they'd see the thinly veiled disgust behind his eyes, the way that sitting this close to a... monkey makes his skin crawl.

"Let's talk," he offers. "I'm sure you'd like to know what's been going on with me."

A smile forces its way onto his face. He'd kill them after this, then the whole village would be dead. Non-sorcerers are useless to him.

Even if they're his family.