Chapter Text
Suguru Geto, had finish his final mission of the week, alone. The times that were filled with laughter, now empty and meaningless.
Shoko, had been able to successfully cure others using the reverse curse technique. She was never sent out on any missions. Gojo had mastered all three of his techniques, limitless, reverse curse technique and infinity — which granted him to take on special grades all by himself. As for him, he was stuck in the same old life, missions, kill curses, absorb them,— and the cycle repeats. He had began spiraling, first from the traumatic killing of Riko Amenai, and mostly from the being attacked by the ex Zen'in sorcerer killer, named Toji Fushiguro. The feeling of protecting the weak, used to make him feel admirable about him self. It felt right to protect others, but now he couldn't feel much of anything. Though he pushed on, ignoring his feeling— or lack off.
He spent most days alone in his room, only ever coming out to shower. He had began ignoring Nanami, and haibara as well. Leaving spaces when he saw them approaching. When he wasn't in his room he went to the library, trying to peacefully exist where no one could disturb him, hardly anyone was ever there.
Geto had heard Yaga looking for him, but he wasn't in the mood for another mission. Instead, he slipped away to the library, retreating to his usual corner seat. With a quiet sigh, he pressed his fingers to his temples, trying to ease the tension building in his head. He just couldn't swallow another curse that taste like shit and vomit, hoping the mission would be passed on to Mei Mei. When he finally looked up, his eyes landed on a notebook lying on the floor nearby. Curious, he picked it up flipping through it, checking if it one of his. He came to a stop when he saw a name. The name was familiar, but he couldn't get a clear picture in his mind of who's it belong too. Curiosity got the better of him, and he began skimming through the pages. It didn't take long to realized what he was holding— a personal diary. A twinge of conscience crept in, whispering that he shouldn't read any further. But as he turned another page something caught his eye. In that moment, it clicked — he finally remembered who the owner of the book was.
A third-year had recently joined, though she rarely attended classes—and, frankly no one seemed to care. Gojo was always away on missions, Shoko spent most day in the morgue, and Nanami and Haibara were buried in their own worries. It was already too late in the school year for anyone to make an effort towards her. Geto skimmed the rest of the diary, not particularly interested in her words—until he reached the final page. Scrawled in bold, uneven letters were the words, "I MUST ESCAPE". His brows furrowed, unease settling deep in his chest. He closed the book, then pondered on what to do next. He debated whether to put it back, yet something held him still.
A figured had entered the library. Geto didn't react at first— plenty of people wandered in and out, and he wasn't in the mood to care. But when the footsteps didn't stop towards the shelves— when they kept moving straight towards his corner. His body tensed. He slowly lifted his gaze from the diary, every sound seemingly becoming louder. Whoever it was, it felt like they were coming closer. Only then did Geto realize just how compromising his situation was. He quickly shut the diary closed, as the figure stepped into his view.
At first, he didn't recongine her, the girls posture was stiff, her expression unreadable. He looked down to the cover of the diary, looking at the name—and then glancing back at her. It was her.
She stopped a few feet away from him, her eyes dropping to the notebook in his hands. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence pressed in.
"That's mine" she said, her voice quiet almost like a whisper.
Geto hesitated, fingers still resting on the edge of the diary. "You dropped it" he said perfectly composed. He gently, lifted his arm towards her, "here".
She reached out her hand grabbing the book. Saying nothing, not even a thank you. She took off without a second glance. He watched her leave, and leaned back. Something about that whole interaction was off. She should have been a little embarrassed or maybe even angry. The words of the page ringing in his mind. Shortly following a guilty conscience after reading something he shouldn't have.