Kapitel 10: Sorcerer's duty
The narrow tunnel echoed with the sound of labored breathing as Yuno stood, his chest heaving with exertion. His crimson eyes, usually hidden behind his glasses, were now exposed and locked onto his formidable opponent. Toji Fushiguro stood a few meters away, a confident smile playing on his lips despite the intensity of their battle thus far.
Yuno, despite his fatigue, managed a small smile of his own. "Well," he said, his voice slightly ragged but still carrying a hint of challenge, "you look awfully confident for someone who hasn't seen my full potential yet."
Toji's grin widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Oh?" he replied, his gravelly voice echoing off the stone walls. "Then by all means, show me what you've been holding back."
With deliberate slowness, Yuno reached up and removed his glasses, folding them carefully before tucking them into his pocket. As he did so, his mind raced with strategic calculations. 'Within my Domain Expansion,' he thought, 'I can sense everything that's happening. It's allowed me to keep pace with Toji so far. But now, without my glasses, I'll be able to see the future – to anticipate his movements before he makes them.'
As this thought crystallized in his mind, Yuno's eyes began to glow with an otherworldly light, the crimson irises seeming to pulse with power. The air around him shimmered, cherry blossoms swirling in a mesmerizing dance that belied the deadly nature of their confrontation.
Toji, sensing the shift in his opponent, didn't waste another moment. With blinding speed, he launched himself forward, his cursed blade whistling through the air as it arced towards Yuno's neck.
But Yuno was ready. In a fluid motion that spoke of years of training, he brought his katana up, deflecting Toji's strike with a resounding clash of steel on steel. The force of the impact sent vibrations racing up Yuno's arm, but he held firm, his enhanced perception allowing him to read and counter Toji's movements with uncanny precision.
For several tense moments, the tunnel was filled with the sound of clashing blades as Toji pressed his attack. Each strike was a blur of motion, a testament to the assassin's superhuman speed and strength. Yet, somehow, Yuno managed to parry or dodge each potentially lethal blow.
As their deadly dance continued, Toji's eyes narrowed, a mixture of frustration and grudging respect flickering across his face. With a grunt of effort, he suddenly increased his speed even further, his blade becoming little more than a silver streak in the dim light of the tunnel.
Yuno, despite his enhanced abilities, found himself struggling to keep up with this new onslaught. His precognitive vision, while powerful, had its limits. He could see the future, yes, but his body could only move so fast to react to what he saw.
The first cut came as a shock – a thin line of red blossoming across Yuno's cheek as Toji's blade slipped past his guard. Then another, a deeper gash on his upper arm. And another, across his thigh. Each wound, while not immediately life-threatening, was a stark reminder of the gap in their physical abilities.
As the battle wore on, Yuno felt his strength beginning to wane. His movements, once fluid and precise, became increasingly desperate. Blood trickled from numerous cuts, staining his clothes and making his grip on his katana slippery and uncertain.
In a moment of clarity amidst the chaos of battle, Yuno's mind turned to his friends – to Riko, to Gojo, to Geto. 'I'm going to lose,' he realized, a wave of despair washing over him. 'I might even die here. But... if my death buys them enough time to escape, to keep Riko safe... then it will have been worth it.'
With this grim acceptance came a strange sense of calm. Yuno's movements became more focused, more deliberate. He was no longer fighting to win, but to delay – to make every second count, to make his eventual defeat as costly for Toji as possible.
It was in this state of grim determination that Yuno saw it – a momentary opening in Toji's defense, a fraction of a second where the assassin's guard was lowered. Without hesitation, Yuno lunged forward, driving his katana deep into Toji's abdomen.
Time seemed to stand still as both combatants froze, the sudden turn of events catching them both by surprise. Toji's eyes widened, a look of disbelief crossing his face as he looked down at the blade protruding from his midsection.
For a brief moment, hope flared in Yuno's chest. 'I can win this,' he thought, a surge of renewed energy coursing through his battered body. 'I can actually defeat him!'
But Toji Fushiguro was not so easily vanquished. With a roar of pain and fury, he grabbed the blade of Yuno's katana with his bare hand, seemingly impervious to the way it cut into his palm. With inhuman strength, he wrenched the sword from his body, dark blood spurting from the wound.
Before Yuno could react, Toji was upon him once more, his attacks now fueled by a berserk rage. It was all Yuno could do to defend himself, his precognitive abilities strained to their limit as he desperately tried to anticipate and counter Toji's frenzied assault.
In the chaos of their renewed battle, Yuno saw another opportunity. As Toji overextended on a particularly vicious swing, Yuno ducked under the blade and brought his katana up in a wide arc. There was a sickening sound of tearing flesh and a spray of blood as Yuno's blade severed Toji's left hand at the wrist.
Toji stumbled back, his face contorted in a mixture of pain and fury. He glanced at the stump where his hand had been, then back at Yuno, his eyes blazing with murderous intent. "You'll pay for that, boy," he snarled, his voice low and dangerous.
Despite the severity of the wound, Toji showed no signs of slowing down. If anything, the loss of his hand seemed to have pushed him into a state of frenzied determination. He charged at Yuno once more, his remaining hand gripping his cursed blade with white-knuckled intensity.
Yuno, seeing the charge coming, dropped low, intending to use Toji's momentum against him. As the assassin barreled past, Yuno thrust his katana upward, driving it deep into Toji's thigh.
For a split second, Yuno thought he had gained the upper hand. But then he saw it – the triumphant gleam in Toji's eyes, the slight twist of his body that Yuno's precognition hadn't quite caught. Too late, he realized his mistake.
Pain exploded across Yuno's back as Toji's blade found its mark, slicing deep into the flesh between his shoulder blades. The force of the blow drove Yuno to his knees, his vision blurring as agony radiated through his body.
But Toji wasn't finished. With ruthless efficiency, he withdrew his blade only to plunge it into Yuno's back again. And again. Each strike was precisely aimed to cause maximum damage without immediately killing his opponent.
In a desperate bid for survival, Yuno forced his battered body to move. He spun around, his katana flashing in the dim light of the tunnel. The blade caught Toji across the face, opening a deep gash from his left eyebrow down to his chin.
Toji staggered back, blood streaming down his face. He touched the wound gingerly, a look of grudging respect in his eyes. "That'll leave a scar," he muttered, almost to himself. Then, his expression hardened once more. "But it won't save you."
With lightning speed, Toji lashed out again. His blade found Yuno's eyes, slicing across them in a savage arc. Yuno cried out in agony, his hands instinctively coming up to cover his face. In that moment of vulnerability, Toji struck again, his cursed blade sinking deep into Yuno's abdomen.
The pain was indescribable. Yuno felt his legs give way beneath him, and he crumpled to the ground, his body wracked with spasms of agony. He could feel his life blood pouring from the grievous wound, pooling on the cold stone floor beneath him.
As Yuno lay there, his consciousness fading, he became aware that his Domain Expansion was crumbling. The ethereal cherry blossoms that had filled the air began to dissipate, revealing once more the stark, oppressive darkness of the tunnel.
Through the haze of pain and encroaching darkness, Yuno saw Toji standing over him, the assassin's face a mask of grim determination. With deliberate slowness, Toji raised his blade one final time.
"You fought well, kid," Toji said, a note of genuine respect in his voice. "But this is where it ends."
With that, he plunged his blade into Yuno's chest, twisting it for good measure before withdrawing it. Yuno felt a cold numbness spreading through his body, replacing the searing pain. He tried to speak, to move, but found he no longer had the strength.
Toji stood for a moment, looking down at Yuno's broken form. "Well," he mused, his voice sounding distant to Yuno's fading senses, "if you're not dead already, you will be soon enough from blood loss."
With those final words, Toji turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the tunnel until they faded into silence.
As consciousness slipped away from him, Yuno's thoughts turned once more to his friends. He hoped that his sacrifice had bought them enough time, that Riko would be safe. With the last of his strength, he tried to reach out, to activate his ability one final time – to see if the future he had fought so hard to change had indeed been altered.
But darkness claimed him before he could grasp that final vision, leaving him alone in the cold, dark tunnel, his life blood slowly seeping into the uncaring stone beneath him.
In the labyrinthine depths of Jujutsu Tech, Geto, Misato, and Riko found themselves navigating the twisting corridors, their footsteps echoing off the ancient stone walls. The air was thick with tension, and the flickering torchlight cast eerie shadows that seemed to dance and twist with each step they took.
After what felt like hours of traversing the maze-like structure, they finally paused to catch their breath. Riko leaned against a cool stone wall, her chest heaving as she tried to calm her racing heart. Her eyes, wide with a mixture of fear and concern, turned to Geto.
"Do you think Yuno will be alright?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their shared concern.
Geto, his long hair slightly disheveled from their hasty retreat, offered Riko a reassuring smile. "Of course he will," he said, his voice filled with a confidence he didn't entirely feel. "Yuno's plans always work out in the end. You know, there was this one time..."
He launched into a story about how Yuno had once convinced Professor Yaga that a gaping hole in the classroom wall - courtesy of one of Satoru's overzealous demonstrations - had always been there. As Geto recounted the tale, complete with animated gestures and a passable impression of Yaga's gruff voice, Riko found herself giggling despite the dire circumstances.
"I can't wait to experience these kinds of adventures with all of you," Riko said, her eyes shining with a mixture of hope and excitement. The prospect of a future filled with such exhilarating escapades seemed to momentarily overshadow the danger they were in.
Geto's smile widened, genuine warmth spreading through his chest at Riko's words. "And you will," he assured her. "Once we get through this, there'll be plenty of time for-"
His words were cut short by a sickening sound - the wet, unmistakable noise of a blade piercing flesh. Geto's eyes widened in shock and pain as he looked down to see a wickedly sharp blade protruding from his abdomen.
Behind him, emerging from the shadows like a nightmare given form, stood Toji Fushiguro. His face was splattered with blood - whether his own or someone else's, it was impossible to tell. A cruel smile played on his lips as he twisted the blade, eliciting a pained gasp from Geto.
"And with you, that makes three," Toji said, his voice casual, as if he were discussing the weather rather than attempted murder. "I would have liked to play with you a bit more, but I'm running behind schedule."
Despite the agony coursing through his body, Geto's first thought was for Riko and Misato. With a herculean effort, he turned his head towards them, his eyes wild with urgency. "Run!" he shouted, his voice hoarse with pain. "Get out of here, now!"
Misato, her face pale with shock, grabbed Riko's hand and began to pull her away. Riko resisted for a moment, her eyes fixed on Geto's bleeding form, but Misato's insistent tugging finally spurred her into motion.
As their footsteps faded down the corridor, Geto summoned the last reserves of his strength. With a guttural cry, he called forth his most powerful cursed spirit - the majestic White Dragon.
The air shimmered and distorted as the enormous beast materialized, its scales gleaming like freshly fallen snow in the dim light of the tunnel. Without hesitation, it lunged at Toji, its massive jaws snapping shut around the assassin's body.
For a moment, Geto allowed himself to hope. But that hope was short-lived.
From within the dragon's belly came the sound of tearing flesh. The cursed spirit's eyes widened in what could only be described as surprise before its entire body began to convulse. Suddenly, in a spray of ethereal blood and gore, Toji burst forth from the dragon's side, his blade gleaming wickedly in the torchlight.
Before Geto could react, Toji was upon him. The assassin moved with inhuman speed, his blade a blur of motion as it sliced through air and flesh alike. Geto felt each cut as a line of fire across his skin, his body jerking with the impact of each blow.
Finally, mercifully, Geto's legs gave out beneath him. He crumpled to the ground, his vision blurring as he fought to remain conscious. Through the haze of pain, he saw Toji standing over him, a contemplative look on his face.
"If I kill you outright, I'm not sure what would happen to all those curses you've got stored up," Toji mused, almost to himself. "Consider yourself lucky."
With those words, Toji turned and disappeared down the corridor, leaving Geto lying in a growing pool of his own blood. As consciousness slipped away from him, Geto's last thoughts were of his friends, hoping against hope that they had managed to escape.
Meanwhile, in another part of the labyrinth, Yuno's eyes fluttered open slowly, his consciousness returning in fits and starts. He coughed, a wet, painful sound that brought the coppery taste of blood to his mouth. As his vision cleared, he found himself looking up into the concerned face of Shoko.
"I've healed your wounds," Shoko said, a small, relieved smile gracing her features.
Yuno turned his head slightly, wincing at the movement, and saw Geto lying nearby. As if sensing Yuno's gaze, Geto spoke up, his voice weak but steady. "I woke up and went to get her," he explained, gesturing towards Shoko.
With a groan of effort, Yuno pushed himself into a sitting position. Every movement sent waves of pain coursing through his body, and he couldn't suppress a small cry of discomfort.
Shoko's brow furrowed in concern. "Didn't I heal your wounds?" she asked, her voice tinged with confusion and worry.
Yuno shook his head slightly, his crimson eyes clouded with pain. "My soul was gravely injured," he explained, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's normal for it to still hurt."
Geto moved to help Yuno to his feet, supporting his friend's weight as Yuno swayed unsteadily. Once he was upright, Yuno's eyes darted around the room, searching for a face that wasn't there.
"And Riko?" he asked, his voice tight with barely suppressed fear.
A heavy silence fell over the room. Geto's face twisted with guilt and sorrow as he recounted what had happened. "Toji attacked me," he said, his voice hollow. "Riko managed to escape, but... I don't know what happened after that."
With trembling hands, Geto reached into his pocket and pulled out a bloodstained piece of fabric - the bandana Riko had worn in her hair. The sight of it, stained crimson with what could only be Riko's blood, sent a chill through Yuno's heart.
Yuno's fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. "I'll search for her with my visions," he said, his voice tight with determination.
For several long moments, Yuno stood perfectly still, his eyes closed in concentration. But as the seconds ticked by, his face grew increasingly troubled. Finally, his eyes snapped open, filled with a mixture of confusion and fear.
"I... I can't see anything," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Geto's eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean?" he asked, unable to keep the alarm from his voice.
Yuno's hand moved unconsciously to his eyes, gently touching the area where Toji's blade had struck. "My visions," he said, his voice hollow with disbelief. "I've lost them."
Shoko stepped forward, her face etched with concern. "How is that possible?" she asked, her medical training kicking in as she tried to understand the situation.
Yuno's voice was flat as he explained, "The source of my power is in my eyes. Toji... he damaged that part of my soul. And because it can't be repaired, I've lost my visions."
The weight of this revelation hung heavy in the air. Geto shook his head in disbelief, unable to process the magnitude of what Yuno was saying. "Impossible..." he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Yuno's fists clenched once more, his jaw set in determination despite the loss he had just suffered. "I know where we might find Satoru," he said, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. "I hope... I hope it's not the outcome I fear it is."
As they made their way out of the labyrinth, they emerged into the cool night air. The sky above was a deep, velvety black, studded with countless stars that seemed to mock their grim situation with their serene beauty. The moon, a thin crescent, cast a pale, ghostly light over the landscape, turning familiar shapes into alien silhouettes.
The journey to the Tokyo branch of the Star Religious Group felt endless, each step heavy with dread and anticipation. When they finally arrived, Yuno and Geto found themselves standing before an imposing set of doors. With a shared look of determination, they pushed them open, revealing a scene that would be forever seared into their memories.
The room beyond was a stark, clinical white, its brightness almost painful after the darkness of the night. Within, a group of men in pristine white suits stood in a loose circle, their faces split with unsettling smiles as they applauded. And there, in the center of it all, stood Satoru Gojo.
In Gojo's arms lay a small, still form covered by a white sheet. Even without seeing her face, Yuno knew with a sickening certainty that it was Riko.
The world seemed to tilt on its axis as the full weight of their failure crashed down upon Yuno. He felt as though he were falling, drowning in a sea of guilt and self-recrimination. His plan had failed. He hadn't been able to prevent Riko's death. The future he had fought so hard to change had come to pass despite all his efforts.
Gojo's voice cut through the haze of Yuno's despair. "Suguru, Yuno," he said, his usually carefree tone replaced by something cold and dangerous. "Is it okay if I kill them all? In the state I'm in right now, I won't feel a thing."
For a moment, Yuno was tempted to say yes. To unleash Gojo's immense power on these people who had orchestrated Riko's death. A part of him wanted to join in, to make them pay for what they had done. But it was Suguru who found the strength to be the voice of reason.
"It's not worth it, Satoru," Geto said, his voice heavy with exhaustion and sorrow. "This organization will be dissolved. They're just monkeys without cursed energy, following orders. The real culprits have already escaped."
Yuno felt the words building up inside him, a torrent of self-loathing that he could no longer contain. "It's my fault," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "My plan failed. I... I'm responsible for this. I led us to the school."
A heavy silence fell over the room. No one seemed to know how to respond to Yuno's raw admission of guilt. After a moment, Satoru stepped forward, gently transferring Riko's shrouded body into Yuno's arms.
The weight of her lifeless form seemed to crush what was left of Yuno's spirit. He sank to his knees, cradling Riko's body close to his chest. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with tears. "I'm so sorry, Riko. I failed you. I broke my promise."
The words became a mantra, repeated over and over as Yuno rocked back and forth, his grief a palpable force that filled the sterile white room.
Weeks passed, but for Yuno, time seemed to stand still. He found himself spending most of his days on the couch in the common area, his gaze unfocused and distant. Dark circles had formed under his eyes, a testament to the sleepless nights filled with guilt and self-recrimination.
The loss of his power weighed heavily on him, but it paled in comparison to the loss of Riko. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face, heard her laughter, felt the weight of the promise he had failed to keep.
It was on one such day, as Yuno sat lost in his thoughts, that Shoko entered the room. She moved quietly, almost hesitantly, before settling herself on the couch beside him.
"Do you want to talk?" she asked softly, her voice gentle and free of judgment.
Yuno's response was barely audible. "Not really."
Shoko nodded, accepting his answer without pushing further. "That's okay," she said. With slow, careful movements, she leaned her head against Yuno's shoulder. "Does this bother you?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.
Yuno remained silent, neither accepting nor rejecting her gesture of comfort. Taking his silence as permission, Shoko slowly raised her hand, gently running her fingers through Yuno's hair.
"It's not your fault, Yunichi," she murmured, her voice soft but filled with conviction. "Not even Satoru could defeat him. You shouldn't blame yourself."
Yuno didn't respond, but he didn't pull away either. He sat there, allowing Shoko's gentle touch to anchor him in the present, a small respite from the storm of guilt and regret that raged within him.
As the sun began to set outside, casting long shadows across the room, Yuno and Shoko remained on the couch, a tableau of quiet comfort amidst the aftermath of tragedy. And though Yuno's heart still ached with the weight of his perceived failure, a small part of him began to consider that perhaps, just perhaps, he didn't have to bear this burden alone.
In the weeks following the tragic events surrounding Riko's death, a subtle but profound divergence began to take shape in the lives of Geto and Yuno. Their shared experience of loss and failure had set them on parallel paths, each grappling with the weight of their perceived responsibilities and shortcomings in their own distinct ways.
Geto found himself increasingly isolated, his mind a swirling vortex of dark thoughts and bitter resentment. He spent long hours in his room, the curtains drawn tight against the world outside, as he wrestled with the implications of what had transpired.
On one particularly gloomy afternoon, Geto sat at his desk, his fingers absently tracing the grain of the wood as his thoughts turned once again to that fateful day. 'Why?' he wondered, his brow furrowing in frustration. 'Why should a sorcerer like me have to risk everything to protect those monkeys without cursed energy?'
The thought gnawed at him, growing more insistent with each passing day. He could feel his resentment building, a slow-burning anger directed at the very people he had sworn to protect. In his mind's eye, he saw Riko's face, her bright smile forever extinguished because of what he perceived as the weakness and ignorance of non-sorcerers.
"It's their fault," he muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper in the stillness of his room. "If they weren't so helpless, so dependent on us, Riko would still be alive."
Occasionally, Satoru would drop by, his carefree demeanor a stark contrast to Geto's brooding silence. On one such visit, Gojo lounged on Geto's bed, his legs dangling off the edge as he regaled his friend with some trivial anecdote from his latest mission.
"...and then, can you believe it, the guy actually tried to use a curse on me!" Gojo laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "As if that would work on the strongest sorcerer alive!"
Geto managed a weak smile, but his heart wasn't in it. He nodded along, making the appropriate noises of acknowledgment, but his mind was elsewhere, still trapped in the cycle of blame and resentment that had become his constant companion.
Gojo, caught up in his own narrative, failed to notice the distant look in Geto's eyes or the tension in his shoulders. He continued his story, oblivious to the inner turmoil of his friend.
As Gojo's visit came to an end and he sauntered out of the room with a casual wave, Geto felt the weight of his isolation more keenly than ever. Even in the company of his closest friend, he felt utterly alone, adrift in a sea of doubt and growing resentment.
Meanwhile, across the campus, Yuno's experience of the aftermath was taking a markedly different shape. While he too grappled with intense feelings of guilt and responsibility, the presence of Shoko in his life was slowly but surely becoming a lifeline.
Unlike Geto, who blamed the non-sorcerers for their weakness, Yuno turned his blame inward. 'It's my fault,' he thought, the refrain a constant presence in his mind. 'I was blessed with this power, and it was my duty to protect those weaker than me. I failed.'
On a crisp morning, about a month after the incident, Shoko gently knocked on Yuno's door. When she received no response, she slowly pushed it open, her eyes adjusting to the dimness of the room.
"Yunichi?" she called softly, spotting his form huddled under the blankets on his bed. "It's time to get up. We're going out today."
Yuno stirred slightly but made no move to emerge from his cocoon of blankets. Shoko, undeterred, moved to the window and drew back the curtains, allowing sunlight to flood the room.
"Come on," she said, her voice gentle but insistent. "You need a haircut, and some fresh air will do you good."
Slowly, reluctantly, Yuno sat up, his hair a disheveled mess and his eyes still heavy with sleep and sorrow. Shoko's heart ached at the sight, but she kept her voice light and encouraging.
"There you are," she said with a small smile. "Now, let's get you cleaned up and ready to face the day."
With patient persistence, Shoko managed to coax Yuno out of bed, into the shower, and finally out of his room. As they walked through the quiet streets of the city, Shoko kept up a gentle stream of conversation, not expecting responses but simply providing a comforting background of normalcy.
At the barber shop, Yuno sat silently as his overgrown hair was trimmed back into its usual neat style. Shoko watched, offering approving nods and gentle smiles of encouragement.
"You look more like yourself now," she said softly as they left the shop, reaching out to brush a stray hair from Yuno's forehead.
Yuno's response was minimal - a slight nod, a fleeting moment of eye contact - but to Shoko, it felt like progress. Each small acknowledgment, each moment of engagement, no matter how brief, was a victory in her eyes.
As the days passed, Shoko's presence became a constant in Yuno's life. She would appear at his door each morning, gently but firmly encouraging him to join the world of the living. Some days, it was a walk in the park. Other days, she would bring books and study materials, setting up camp in the common room.
"You're still a student, Yunichi," she would remind him gently. "And a brilliant one at that. Don't let your mind go to waste."
On one such afternoon, as they sat side by side on the couch in the common room, textbooks spread out before them, Shoko noticed Yuno's hand trembling slightly as he turned a page. Without a word, she reached out and took his hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Yuno looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes at the gesture. Shoko met his gaze steadily, her eyes filled with warmth and understanding.
"It's okay to not be okay, Yunichi," she said softly. "But you don't have to go through this alone."
For a long moment, Yuno said nothing. Then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded, his fingers tightening slightly around Shoko's.
As the weeks turned into months, the contrast between Geto and Yuno's experiences grew more pronounced. While Geto's isolation deepened, his resentment festering in the silence of his room, Yuno slowly began to emerge from the depths of his despair.
One evening, as the common room was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, Shoko found Yuno standing by the window, his gaze fixed on the horizon. She approached quietly, coming to stand beside him.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked softly, following his gaze out the window.
Yuno was silent for a long moment, and Shoko began to think he wouldn't answer. But then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he spoke.
"I was thinking about my power," he said. "About why I was given it in the first place."
Shoko turned to look at him, her expression encouraging him to continue.
"I always thought it was a blessing," Yuno continued, his voice gaining strength. "A gift that came with the responsibility to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. But now..."
He trailed off, his brow furrowing in thought. Shoko waited patiently, giving him the space to gather his thoughts.
"Now I wonder if it was also a burden," he finally said. "A test, perhaps. To see if I was worthy of such power."
Shoko reached out, gently laying her hand on Yuno's arm. "And what do you think now?" she asked.
Yuno turned to meet her gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination. "I think... I think I failed the test. But I also think that doesn't mean I should stop trying."
A small smile tugged at the corners of Shoko's lips. "That sounds like the Yuno I know," she said softly.
As the last rays of sunlight faded from the sky, Shoko gently tugged Yuno away from the window. She led him to the couch, settling down and patting the space beside her in invitation.
Yuno hesitated for a moment before sitting down. To his surprise, Shoko immediately scooted closer, leaning against his side and resting her head on his shoulder.
"Is this okay?" she asked, her voice soft and slightly uncertain.
Yuno felt a warmth bloom in his chest, a feeling he hadn't experienced in what felt like an eternity. Slowly, hesitantly, he nodded.
"Yes," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's okay."
As they sat there, the room growing darker around them, Yuno felt something shift inside him. The weight of his guilt and failure was still there, a constant presence in the back of his mind. But for the first time since that fateful day, he felt something else too - a glimmer of hope, a tiny spark of possibility that perhaps, just perhaps, he could find a way forward.
Across campus, Geto sat alone in his darkened room, his thoughts spiraling ever deeper into darkness. The contrast between their situations could not have been starker - Yuno, slowly healing in the warmth of companionship, and Geto, sinking further into isolation and resentment.
As night fell over Jujutsu Tech, two paths diverged - one leading towards hope and redemption, the other towards a darkness that would have far-reaching consequences for the world of sorcerers and non-sorcerers alike. The stage was set for a future that neither Yuno nor Geto could have predicted, their parallel journeys of guilt and responsibility leading them to vastly different destinations.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein