Jujutsu Kaisen : Dog Unleashed

Night had fallen over Jujutsu High like a shroud.

The paper lanterns in the courtyard flickered weakly as if mourning. The halls were quiet. No laughter. No training. Only the soft hum of cursed energy barely being held back.

Yaga Masamichi stood outside Gojo Satoru's room. His knuckles hovered inches from the sliding door. He hadn't seen Gojo in days. No one had. Not really.

Not since Geto.

He finally knocked.

"Gojo. We need to talk."

A beat. Then a voice, flat and sharp:

"Door's unlocked."

Yaga slid it open.

Gojo sat cross-legged on the floor. His blindfold lay beside him. His white hair was disheveled. His eyes—once bright and cocky—were distant. Unfocused. Staring at the envelope in his hands.

"Someone dropped this off." Gojo held it up, but didn't hand it over.

"Who?"

Gojo finally looked up.

"It's from Geto."

---

They sat across from each other. Yaga watched Gojo open the envelope. Inside was a single page.

No return address. No curses laced in it. No tricks.

Just Geto's handwriting.

> Satoru,

If you're reading this, I've already walked the path you warned me not to take. Maybe I should've listened. Maybe you should've stopped me.

But you didn't. And I understand why.

You were always built different. The world never hurt you the way it hurt me.

And Kishibe... he tried. God, he tried. He saw it in me before I did. Saw the cracks. I wonder if he hates me now. I wouldn't blame him.

Shoko will try to heal what can't be healed. Yaga will try to understand what can't be justified.

But you... you'll have to carry it.

You were always meant to carry everything.

Goodbye, Satoru.

I'm sorry.

---

Gojo didn't speak for a long time.

Yaga sat across from him, the letter resting between them on the floor. The silence was heavy, pregnant with everything that couldn't be said.

Finally, Gojo whispered, "He wrote this before he did it. Before the massacre."

Yaga nodded slowly. "He knew it was coming."

"I should've stopped him."

"You couldn't have."

Gojo clenched his fists. "I could stop Toji. I could stop curses that level entire cities. But I couldn't stop my own best friend?"

"Because he wasn't your enemy," Yaga said gently. "He was your brother."

Gojo laughed—a sound like glass cracking.

"And now he is."

Yaga looked at him then, really looked—and saw not the strongest sorcerer alive, but a boy who had lost everything.

---

Gojo rose and moved to the window. The sky beyond was cloudless. Cold.

"I think I understand now," he said. "Why Kishibe started taking solo missions. Why he drinks so much. He's trying to outrun what this job makes you become."

Yaga stood beside him.

"And what do you want to become?"

Gojo didn't answer right away. But when he turned, there was fire in his eyes again.

"I want to become strong enough that no one else has to fall. Not like Geto. Not like Riko."

He looked at the letter again.

"If this world made him a curse user, then maybe it needs to be broken."

Yaga placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Then we rebuild it. Together."

But even as he said it, he knew Gojo had already begun walking a different path.