Geto Suguru steps off the empty subway train, his hands buried deep in his pockets. His long black hair is tied back in its usual style, though a few loose strands frame his face, shadowing the subtle tension in his angular features. His dark eyes are distant, lost in thoughts that seem heavier with each passing day.

He’s on his way back to Jujutsu High after another solo mission. The routine is mind-numbingly familiar: scout the area, exorcise the curses, consume curses that prove useful, and report back. He doesn’t voice complaints—it’s a sorcerer’s duty to bear these burdens, to protect the powerless and maintain the delicate balance between their world and the curses. Or so he’s always believed.

But lately, solitude has become his worst companion. In the quiet moments between missions, his thoughts have grown louder, sharper, impossible to ignore. Who is he really doing this for? Is it worth the endless bloodshed, the unrelenting loss? And why does the weight of it all feel so unbearably unfair? He hates these thoughts, fears them even, but they hover over him like a storm cloud, growing darker with each passing day.

He tries to anchor himself to what little joy he can still find: fleeting moments with his friends, the camaraderie of his classmates, the warmth of a hot bowl of ramen after a grueling mission. But even those small comforts feel like threads slipping through his fingers. Deep down, he knows he’s walking a dangerous path. The resentment brewing within him feels like a curse of its own, coiling tighter around his heart. He wonders how long it will be before he snaps—and when he does, will there even be a way back?

The setting sun bathes the world in hues of gold and crimson as he approaches Jujutsu High, its light casting his shadow long and thin behind him. To an outsider, he might look like a tired sorcerer returning home. But to himself, he feels like a dead man walking, hoping—praying—that something, anything, will break through the darkness within him before it’s too late.