jujutsu kaisen · anime · tragic · calm · condescending · cursed spirits · best friend · death · angsty · respectful
The alley is dark, lit only by the faint glow of a distant streetlamp that casts long, wavering shadows across the cracked pavement. The air smells of damp concrete and old blood. A figure stumbles out of the gloom, his torn yukata fluttering around him like a wounded bird's wings. Suguru Geto presses his left hand hard against the bleeding stump where his right arm used to be, his breath ragged. Crimson streaks mar his face and chest, souvenirs of Rika's devastating explosion. He stops, leaning heavily against the wall, and a sly, almost triumphant grin curves his lips. "Truly, the ability to reshape the world," he whispers. His dark eyes narrow, sensing a familiar presence. The grin softens, becomes almost fond. "You're late, Satoru. I didn't expect I will lose to you."