[Following the light tap of Gojo's footsteps, you passed through damp, dim corridors and headed deeper underground, through layer after layer of confinement cells built by the higher-ups.]
["Creeeak..."]
[Gojo shoved open the heavy iron door. Inside was a cramped room plastered top to bottom with suppression talismans. There wasn't even a bare patch on the ceiling.]
[The talismans writhed like red snakes, pulsing with oppressive cursed energy as they pinned down the slight figure at the center of the room.]
[Wrapped in those twisting seals, a skinny boy in a white T-shirt sat curled up on the room's only wooden chair. Knees pulled tight to his chest, body trembling, he looked like some stray animal cornered with nowhere left to run.]
[Gojo stopped at the door and stepped aside, one arm sweeping out in an exaggerated gentleman's gesture. The smile tugging at the corner of his mouth made it clear he thought he was presenting something interesting.]
[You ignored the act. Walking straight past him, you looked down at the boy's pale face, the dark circles under his eyes, the misery and grief written all over him. Your own expression didn't move at all.]
[Without a word, you activated Phantom Night Parade.]
[Blue streams of cursed energy data flashed through your vision as you began a deep analysis of the boy's cursed energy signature and innate technique.
Yuta Okkotsu looked like he might fall apart if someone touched him too hard. You felt nothing.
Your gaze was colder than the underground air.
The logic in your head was simple. Excuses didn't matter. "I lost control." "I didn't know." Once someone had taken lives without reason, once they had caused harm that could never be undone, they had already lost the right to call themselves human.
At that point, all that was left was a monster wearing human skin. No different from any curse that needed to be exorcised.]
[While you waited for the analysis to finish, Gojo strolled forward and crouched without caring about the dirt. He picked something warped up from the dusty floor.]
[A pencil-sharpener blade, or what used to be one. The blade had been twisted into scrap, bent like soft candy by some absurd force.]
["What's this, Yuta Okkotsu?"]
[Gojo held the ruined blade between two fingers, tone breezy as ever.]
[Yuta's narrow shoulders jerked. He ducked his head lower, eyes fixed on the floor, and answered in a voice so hoarse it was barely there.]
["That... was a blade. I was going to... kill myself. But... Rika stopped me."]
["Clang."]
[Gojo dropped the mangled blade. It struck the concrete with a sharp ring. He let out a sigh, and it was hard to tell whether it was mockery or pity.]
["You're really gloomy, huh."]
[Listening to that casual exchange, the cold behind your eyes only deepened.]
[You stepped forward and looked down at the shaking boy.]
["Hiding like that means you know exactly what you've done, right?"]
[Yuta folded in on himself. Fingers digging into his hair, he lowered his head until it nearly touched his knees. When he spoke, the words came out with a cracked sob.]
["It's all my fault... I'm the one to blame. I just... I don't want to hurt anyone anymore..."]
[Right then, after several minutes of analysis, Phantom Night Parade finally returned a result that made your pupils tighten.]
[Innate Technique: Copy.]
[In a certain sense, Yuta Okkotsu's innate technique was very close to your own. Both belonged to the absurdly rare category of replication-type abilities.]
[And that immediately tore a huge hole in the logic of the situation.]
[If his technique was Copy, then what exactly was the "Rika" he kept talking about, the thing powerful enough to critically injure four students and get labeled Special Grade by the higher-ups? What was it?]
[A sorcerer with a Copy-type technique should not have been able to produce some monster with an independent will, especially one so fiercely devoted to protecting its host.]
[You turned toward Gojo.]
["Satoru. The thing that critically injured those four students, was it the curse he calls Rika?"]
[Gojo blinked at the sudden question and tilted his head, faintly puzzled.]
["Yeah. The Special Grade Vengeful Cursed Spirit named Rika. Why? What made you ask that all of a sudden?"]
[You frowned and looked back at Yuta, who was still shaking under the weight of his guilt.]
["Because I just read his innate technique. It isn't summoning. It isn't a shikigami. It's Copy, same category as mine."]
[The moment you said it, Gojo's eyes widened behind the blindfold. A second later, understanding hit.]
[Six Eyes let him see the flow of cursed energy in absurd detail and analyze techniques the moment they were used.]
[But dormant power was different. If a technique had been sealed away and never actively used, even Six Eyes could not identify what kind of machine it was while it sat there unpowered.]
[Phantom Night Parade could. That was exactly the blind spot it filled.]
[Gojo was quick. He understood what you meant immediately.]
["So that's what it is..."]
[If Yuta Okkotsu's innate technique was Copy, then "Rika," that violent, independent entity, was clearly not something produced by his natural-born technique.]
[In other words, the existence of Copy itself was strong evidence that the attack on those bullies was probably not a conscious choice on Yuta's part. He looked less like the perpetrator and more like someone being haunted.]
[The pieces snapped together, and Gojo broke into a broad grin. He slid over and slung an arm around your shoulders like there was nothing strange about it.]
["See? I told you I wasn't wrong about him. That wasn't really his doing. And besides..."]
[He leaned in with the kind of smile that belonged on a salesman trying to push a rare collector's item.]
["His technique is Copy too. Doesn't that make you the best possible teacher for him in all of Jujutsu High? Touma, this is destiny."]
[You answered by shoving his arm off your shoulder.]
[Your expression didn't warm even a little.]
["Don't spin this, Satoru. That proves nothing on its own. That thing called Rika is obviously tied to him by something deep. Even if it wasn't his intention, even if he's a victim too, the source of the danger is still him. Those four people's lives were ruined because of him."]
[You turned slightly, giving both Gojo and Yuta a clean view of your profile.]
["As long as that danger still exists, the blame stays with him. Nobody here is innocent. Some people are just too weak to control what's theirs."]
[The room went still.]
["Pfft."]
[Gojo laughed right into the silence, as if sheer audacity could break the tension by force.]
[Hands in his pockets, he looked at the boy curled up on the chair and spoke in the same casual tone someone might use to invite a kid to an amusement park.]
["Come on, don't be so serious. Anyway, Yuta, you've got two choices right now. Stay here and wait for the secret execution order to show up one day... or..."]
[He bent slightly, looking at Yuta through the white bandages over his eyes.]
["Come to our school. Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School. Learn how to break curses. Learn how to undo Rika's curse, and how to use your power to protect people."]
[Yuta slowly raised his head. Something faint flickered back to life in his hollow eyes.]
["Break... the curse?"]
["Exactly!"]
[Gojo snapped his fingers and gestured lazily in your direction, where you stood with all the warmth of a frozen blade.]
["And let me introduce you properly. This scary guy who says terrible things is Touma Hayase. His innate technique is the same rare Copy as yours, so he's basically the perfect mentor for you. With him around, you'll definitely get stronger."]
[Your response killed the little teacher-student moment he was trying so hard to create.]
["Stop dumping your problems on me, Satoru."]
[You shot him a flat, icy look.]
["You're the one who insisted on saving him. If you want to teach him, do it yourself. I don't have the time or the patience to babysit someone who can't keep his own dog on a leash and does nothing but cry."]
[Then you stepped closer. Your gaze pinned Yuta in place, sharp enough to feel physical.]
["And drop the pitiful act, Yuta Okkotsu. I'm not nearly as easy to deal with as Satoru."]
[Each word landed cold and clean.]
["For now, all you've earned from me is temporary clearance on deliberate malice. That's it. So listen carefully."
"If I find out those four students' injuries had any direct connection to your own conscious intent, or if your cowardice lets that power run loose and hurt innocent people again..."]
[Your voice dropped, low and absolute.]
["I'll classify you as a Curse User myself. Then I'll kill you."]
[There was no cursed energy in the killing intent that rolled off you. That only made it worse. It was pure, direct, unmistakable. Yuta's whole body shook. For one second, he forgot how to breathe.]
[He understood. The man standing in front of him wasn't bluffing.]
["Whoa..."]
[Gojo sucked in a loud, ridiculously dramatic breath and slapped a hand over his mouth.]
["Scary, scary. You'd really kill him? Touma, do you realize the higher-ups just classified this kid as a Special Grade Cursed Human? People would kill for a talent like that. And you'd still put him down, Special Grade and all?"]
[You didn't hesitate. You met Gojo's eyes head-on, and the smile at the corner of your mouth was thin enough to cut.]
["Special Grade? So what?"]
[You looked straight at him, voice flat.]
["Special Grade isn't some golden pass. It doesn't erase consequences. And besides..."]
[Your eyes narrowed.]
["He wouldn't be the first Special Grade sorcerer to fall and become a Curse User. Right, Satoru?"]
["..."]
[The cramped confinement cell went dead silent.]
[You saw it. For the briefest moment, the careless smile that always sat on Gojo's face stopped moving.]
[It lasted less than a second, but the cursed energy drifting loosely around him still rippled.]
[You knew exactly where you'd hit.]
[You had cut straight into the oldest wound in the strongest sorcerer's heart, the one named Suguru Geto, the one that had never closed.]
[You walked to the door, stopped, and looked back at him one last time.]
["Back then, I failed to stop him, so he fell where I couldn't reach him. I'm not going to stand by and watch someone else fall right in front of me. Not again."]