Young_Jedi

Kishibe was a cursed child with a knife and nothing to lose. Thrust into Tokyo Jujutsu High, he crosses paths with two other prodigies—Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru. Together, they form a volatile trio bound by power, pain, and the things they can't say out loud.

But growing up as a monster has its cost. As the past catches up to the present, Kishibe must face what he ran from—and fight alongside Gojo one last time, in a battle only one of them will survive.

Jujutsu Kaisen : Dog Unleashed

The hallway was quiet, sterile, the hum of distant cursed barriers barely audible. Shoko Ieiri pressed the side of her hand against the doorframe before stepping inside the dim room where Kishibe lay.

The moment she saw him, her breath caught.

Bandages were wrapped tight around his chest and shoulder, stained with dried blood. An IV hung nearby, slowly dripping. His face was pale. Lips cracked. Even asleep, his jaw was clenched like he was still in battle.

She walked over slowly, clipboard in hand, but her fingers trembled.

Kishibe stirred, eyes fluttering open. Bloodshot. Bleary.

"Morning, doc," he rasped, voice like crushed gravel.

"It's late evening," she replied, forcing a calm tone.

"Shit. Time flies when you're half-dead."

She sat beside him, scanning the vitals. "You shouldn't joke. You're lucky to be alive. Internal bleeding, shattered ribs, severed tendons..."

"I've had worse," he muttered. "But yeah. This one's in the top three."

He turned his head, squinting at her. "You okay?"

The question struck her unexpectedly. She blinked.

"You're the one barely stitched together."

"Still counts," he said. "Doesn't feel like we won."

"No," she admitted softly. "It doesn't."

Elsewhere in Jujutsu High — Yaga's Office

Masamichi Yaga sat in silence, fingers steepled under his chin.

A report sat open in front of him, detailing the Star Plasma Vessel mission. Success, it read. Riko Amanai eliminated. The threat to Master Tengen neutralized.

He stared at the words like they were in a foreign language.

Three names burned through the page—Gojo. Geto. Kishibe.

He reached for a pen, hesitated, and set it down again.

The door creaked open. Shoko entered, her expression grim.

"Alive," she said, sitting across from him. "But… something's changed in him. In all of them."

Yaga nodded solemnly. "The mission was cursed from the start."

"They're not just wounded. They're haunted."

Later that evening, Yaga made his way to the field.

The place was empty now. No echoes of laughter or rivalry. Just the chirp of insects and the rustle of leaves. He sat down on the bench where he used to watch them spar.

He remembered Gojo shouting about being the strongest.

He remembered Kishibe's silence, his precision, the cold rage buried just under the surface.

Shoko stood at the doorway again, hesitating.

She watched Kishibe breathe. He hadn't said much more. But as she lingered, she caught the way his hand twitched, like it was reaching for a knife even in his sleep.

She placed the clipboard down gently and left without another word.

In the hallway, she leaned against the wall and slid down until she was seated on the floor.

For the first time since the mission… she cried.

Chapter 58 : A Voice That Lingers