[Compared to the desperate simulations you’d endured before, this timeline was brimming with life in ways none of its predecessors had managed.]

[No Riko Amanai bleeding out on cold stone. No Gojo dangling at death’s edge under Toji Fushiguro’s blade.]

[And it went further than that. The force of your interference, had pushed both of those prodigies to heights they’d never reached in your memory.

Each had grown into something terrifying on their own terms, well past the stage where they needed the other as a safety net, each now capable of warping the outcome of a battle single-handedly.]

[By every metric you could measure, the top-tier combat power at Jujutsu High right now.]

[Of course, Gojo and Geto weren’t the only ones your presence had reshaped. There were also the two students who’d since advanced to their second year, growing steadily in this comparatively gentler environment: Kento Nanami and Yu Haibara.]

[One autumn afternoon, wind chased a scatter of dead leaves along the familiar covered walkway of Jujutsu High. A rare stillness hung in the air.]

[You and Geto, who happened to be free of field assignments today, leaned side by side against the wooden railing, warm canned coffee from the vending machine in hand, working through a question that carried more weight than casual conversation: the future trajectory of his extraordinarily rare and powerful Cursed Spirit Manipulation, and the strategic choices that lay ahead.]

["You’re standing at a classic crossroads, Geto."]

[You took a sip of coffee, studying the man beside you.]

["Do you go for quality, focusing your energy on capturing high-intelligence, technique-bearing Cursed Spirits at the special grade or near-special-grade level? Or do you go for quantity, absorbing swarms of low-tier spirits by the thousands and burning them as high-explosive, single-use fuel for your Maximum: Uzumaki?"]

[A beat of silence while you let the question land, then you laid out the analysis.]

["Pure destructive output? The second path wins, and it’s not close. But in terms of sustainability in a real fight, in terms of tactical flexibility, it falls short. You can only fire your best card so many times before the magazine’s empty."]

[You turned to meet Geto’s attentive gaze and offered something bolder.]

["And honestly, the greatest strength of Cursed Spirit Manipulation has always been absolute dominion and control. Think about it. If you built a stable of individually powerful special-grade spirits, enough of them to reach a critical mass... you could deploy high-tier Cursed Spirits to hold territory in place of Jujutsu Sorcerers.

Let their aura suppress, repel, or devour weaker spirits in the area. Fighting poison with poison. An automated defense network. It might sound insane, but the theoretical framework is there."]

[Geto went quiet for a long time. Those eyes glimmered with thought, his fingers tracing the rim of his mug without realizing it.]

["Using curses to suppress curses..."

[The words came out low, half to himself. He had to admit the idea was seductive.]

[Even with his own special-grade classification, he lacked Gojo’s particular brand of terrifying mobility, the Limitless-backed spatial warping that let the man teleport at will.

But if he could command a network of intelligent, powerful spirits scattered across the country, he could approach from a different angle entirely, the kind of suffocating national coverage that Gojo achieved alone through sheer individual force.]

[Yet reason pulled him back. Curses were born from humanity’s ugliest emotions. The variables were enormous. Turning a concept this radical into operational reality would demand navigating a minefield of ethical, logistical, and political risks.]

[His thoughts had barely begun to unspool when a bright, unmistakable voice rang down the corridor from the opposite end, shattering the weight of the conversation in an instant.]

["Hayase! Geto!"]

[Geto blinked out of his reverie. The cool severity on his face melted into a warm smile as he turned toward the figure jogging their way, and called back in his easy, approachable tone.]

["Haibara. What’s the rush? Something going on?"]

[Yu Haibara arrived wearing his trademark sunbeam grin, slightly out of breath from the jog, and answered in a quick, cheerful clip.]

["Nothing major! It’s just that Nanami and I have to head out tomorrow for an investigation, some spirit-disappearance case way out in the sticks. We’ll be there a few days, so I figured I’d swing by and ask if there’s anything you guys want me to bring back. Local souvenirs, snacks, anything?"]

[Geto blinked at the word "souvenirs." Then the corner of his mouth twitched, once, twice, as if some deeply cursed memory had clawed its way to the surface. He rubbed his chin and murmured.]

["Souvenirs from far away, huh..."]

["Yeah! I did my research, there are tons of local specialties out there. I mainly wanted to know ahead of time: do you guys prefer sweet stuff, or savory?"]

[Geto snapped back, the gentle smile settling into place once more. He looked at Haibara and sighed with a trace of resignation.]

["Play it safe and go with sweet. If that idiot comes back and finds out everyone got savory snacks behind his back, he’ll throw a fit. You know how he gets."]

["Sweet it is... got it! Geto’s preference, logged!"]

[He looked up, those bright, clear eyes swiveling to you.]

["What about you, Hayase? What flavor do you like? Ah, too bad Gojo’s out on a mission today. I could’ve asked him in person otherwise."]

[You stood still, expression unchanged, but something complicated stirred beneath the surface.]

[Ah. So it’s that time again.]

[The thought drifted through you like cold water.]

[Across the countless simulations burned into your memory, this so-called Grade 2 spirit-disappearance investigation, was a vicious trap. What waited there wasn’t a Grade 2 spirit at all. It was a Grade 1 Cursed Spirit, its strength concealed and wildly beyond the briefing.]

[But as you watched Haibara bouncing on his heels, alive and bright and whole, the worry you might have expected didn’t come.]

[Because this time, everything was different.]

[Given where Haibara and Nanami stood now in terms of ability, you were confident. Certain, even. A spirit of that caliber wouldn’t be enough to bring them down.]

[And even in a worst-case scenario, even if something unexpected surfaced, handling a single hidden Grade 1 Cursed Spirit was well within their reach. It wouldn’t be a crisis.]

[So you said nothing to stop them. No warnings. You met Haibara’s expectant gaze and answered in a flat, easy tone.]

["Same for me. Sweet’s fine. Thanks, Haibara."]

["Aw, Gojo’s not even on campus? And here I made a special trip."]

[The voice arrived before the woman did, drifting around the corridor’s far corner with the lazy confidence of someone who owned every room she entered.]

[A tall figure rounded into view: fitted riding leathers, an aura of untamed magnetism rolling off her in waves, a black full-face motorcycle helmet dangling casually from one hand.]

[Geto’s relaxed posture locked up in an instant. His eyes narrowed, and he shifted to half-shield Haibara behind him, suspicion and wariness sharpening his gaze. Haibara, wide-eyed and bewildered, stared at the striking stranger who’d somehow waltzed into Jujutsu High’s grounds.]

[You alone remained still. Not a flicker of surprise. Not so much as a tremor in your lashes.]

[Because her arrival was something you’d accounted for. One of the Special Grade Jujutsu Sorcerers, the perpetual wanderer who roamed overseas with no fixed address: Yuki Tsukumo.]

[Ignoring her entrance entirely, you stayed rooted in place and quietly cycled your cursed energy.]

[Your gaze locked onto Tsukumo, and beneath the surface, in a dimension no one could perceive, Phantom Night Parade engaged, continuing its unfinished analysis of her Cursed Technique and cursed energy signature.]

[What you hadn’t anticipated was that her attention had already found you first.]

[She stopped walking. That aggressive, appraising stare cut past Geto entirely and landed squarely on you, standing at the back.]

[Your eyes met. Those long, narrow eyes studied you, her head cocking slightly to one side. Lips painted red curved into a smile that carried the faintest edge of danger, and the question came out slow and deliberate.]

["Hey, you. The one in the back... have you been running some weird technique on me this whole time?"]

["So you’re Touma Hayase. What’s your type in women?"]