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

Jujutsu High — Courtyard, Overcast Afternoon

Nanami Kento sat on the stone bench beneath the ginkgo tree, a book closed on his lap. He hadn't turned a page in nearly an hour. The wind stirred the golden leaves around him. They fell slowly—like moments slipping away.

Across from him, Haibara was kicking a pebble back and forth with his shoe. For once, he wasn't smiling. His eyes were dull. Distant.

"They said she was our age," Haibara murmured.

Nanami nodded. "Riko Amanai. The Star Plasma Vessel."

Neither of them spoke for a long moment.

"I thought they were invincible," Haibara said softly. "Gojo, Geto, and… Kishibe."

"They're not," Nanami replied. "No one is."

A gust of wind scattered the leaves around them. Haibara looked up at the sky.

"They looked so… empty. Gojo avoided everyone. Geto hasn't come back to campus. And Kishibe…"

Later that day, they stood outside Kishibe's recovery room. The door was half-open. Inside, the man lay propped against his pillow, his arm wrapped in thick bandages. A long cut ran across his chest, visible even beneath the fresh hospital gown.

"If you're here to ask how I'm doing," he said dryly, "don't bother. I'm not."

Nanami stepped in first. "We're here because… we need to understand."

Kishibe tilted his head. "Understand what?"

"What makes someone keep going after they lose everything," Nanami said.

Kishibe finally exhaled. "I don't keep going. I just don't know how to stop."

Haibara hesitated by the doorway. He looked at the half-empty bottle of liquor on the table. And the untouched knife beside it.

No one said anything about either.

"Does it get easier?" Haibara asked.

Kishibe's gaze turned sharp. "No. It doesn't. You just get used to being tired."

That evening, Kishibe stood in the shadows of the outdoor field, wrapped in a long coat, a cigarette burning low between his fingers. He wasn't cleared to train. Still healing. But his eyes followed every movement on the field.

Nanami and Haibara sparred beneath the dimming sky, their strikes crisp but uncertain.

"They're improving," Yaga said, stepping beside him.

"They're still green," Kishibe muttered. "Still think they'll win just because they want to."

"They still believe people can be saved," Yaga replied.

Instead, he watched Nanami block a curse simulation with perfect form. Haibara laughed as he tripped and rolled.

It reminded him of something. Something painful.

"They remind me of us," Kishibe said finally.

Yaga looked at him. "That's not a bad thing."

Kishibe's eyes darkened. "No. It's not. But that's why it hurts."

He sat alone, bathed in the pale glow of a reading lamp. The room was quiet save for the slow drip of water from a cracked pipe.

On the table: the knife. Clean. Still sheathed.

A photo. Riko, half-smiling, standing next to Geto.

He pressed his forehead to the table. For a moment, he didn't feel like a monster. Just a man who had failed.

And he stayed like that until the dawn began to push against the darkness.

Chapter 60 : What We Lost