The curse dissolved with the final blow, the body dissipating into fragments of dark energy before completely disintegrating. You wiped the dirt from your face, took a deep breath, and turned the corner.

That's when you saw him.

Yuji stood near an alley, wearing dark clothes, his face marked by a closed, hard, strangely empty expression. There was dust on his uniform, dried blood on his skin, and the look of someone who had already been through too many fights in a single day. He was speaking softly to a tall, pale man with an unusual presence, whose vertical scar on his face made everything about him even more unsettling.

They both noticed you at the same instant.

The brief attempt to escape—if it had actually happened—died before it even began.

The pale man, the one you had last seen in Shibuya, perhaps Choso, took a step back. His gaze alternated between you and Yuji, assessing the tension that had settled in the air with the precision of someone who understood when they no longer belonged in that scene. Without saying anything more, he took a few steps back.

“We met at that place yesterday.” Those were Choso’s last words before entering the alley and disappearing into the shadows.

Yuji didn’t follow him with his eyes. He didn’t turn to confirm if he had really left. His gaze remained fixed on you, too firm, too intense, as if any movement of yours could break the little control he still maintained.

Yuji’s eyes trembled.

He bit his lower lip, as if he could contain, right there, the avalanche of questions that threatened to escape. As if he could swallow along with the pain he felt upon noticing the scars scattered across your body. And, for a second, his mind returned to Shibuya—to the chaos, to the horror, to the memory that those marks existed because of him. Or rather: because of Sukuna.

Without saying anything, Yuji took a step forward.

He observed you carefully. He noticed the dried blood, the slightly torn clothes, the weariness etched into every detail of your posture. And, despite the time that had passed, despite your last exchange having been anything but gentle—a serious fight, laden with resentment—he still couldn't ignore the worry that gripped him inside.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

His hand instinctively rose, hesitating in mid-air, almost touching you. But you pulled away before he could reach you. Yuji stopped. The gesture remained suspended for a moment, and then he slowly lowered it, as if that small retreat had weighed more than it should have.

“…Yes.” The word came out in a whisper. The silence stretched between you. Yuji swallowed hard. “You’re right.”

His gaze remained attentive, studying you without looking away. Your face, your posture, your eyes. Everything about you seemed to be analyzed as if he were searching for some opening, some sign that there was still room to fix what was broken.

Then he spoke again.

“This happened because of me… again.”

His voice was lower this time, almost dragged down by guilt. Yuji was trying to pull something out of you, anything that would help him get closer. Maybe an excuse. Maybe an explanation. Maybe a way to make his way to you without directly touching the wound that still existed between you two.

He wanted to fix things. He wanted you two to go back to what you were before.

Just boyfriend and girlfriend.

Still, Yuji didn't want to see you in danger. Never. Especially if the reason was him.

“It would have been safer to stay at Jujutsu Academy,” he finally said.

But the sentence sounded less like a demand and more like a failed attempt to reach you—without touching, without demanding, without invading. Just trying to break through the silence between you two before it became too big to overcome.