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

Kishibe's blade gleamed in the moonlight, slick with something that sizzled against the dirt. The field was quiet again. Crickets resumed their chorus, as if the death that just occurred meant nothing.

He stood over the remains, breathing steadily. Blood dripped from his fingertips. Not his. Not this time.

The village elder watched from a distance, clutching her prayer beads. She made no move to thank him.

That was fine. Kishibe didn't want thanks. He didn't even want to be seen.

He turned and walked away without a word.

Back at Jujutsu High, the sparring yard echoed with wooden practice blades clashing.

Nanami ducked a swing and countered with a sharp jab to Haibara's ribs.

"You're getting sloppy," Nanami muttered.

Haibara rubbed his side. "Can you blame me? Training feels weird without—"

He stopped himself. Looked around.

No Kishibe leaning against the wall, correcting their footwork with a single glance. No dry warnings about openings. No muttered insults when they hesitated.

"I wonder if he even reads the mission board anymore," Haibara added, trying to smile. "Maybe he sleeps in the woods now."

He had overheard Yaga's last report: Kishibe had taken a job in the countryside. Alone. Volunteered for it.

The mission had ended. Kishibe sat on the edge of a low wall, overlooking a silent road. His coat was torn at the sleeve. The cut on his arm had already clotted, but his vision swam.

His cursed technique—Severance—still buzzed faintly in his bones. He'd used it three times too many today. His fingers trembled, and something behind his left eye throbbed.

He lit a cigarette, letting it hang from his lips.

He didn't know if he meant curses… or memories.

Back at school, Haibara sat on the rooftop, legs swinging over the edge.

"Do you think he's coming back?" he asked.

Nanami leaned against the railing. "He doesn't run away. He walks off. Big difference."

Haibara glanced at him. "Yeah, but… do we follow him? Or do we let him go?"

Nanami thought of Kishibe's stare—calm, unreadable, always a little tired.

"We remember him," Nanami said finally. "And we stay sharp. That's what he'd want."

Kishibe stood under a phone booth light, staring at a vending machine. His hands hovered over the buttons before he chose something random.

Instead, he stared into the darkened street ahead. The same voice repeated in his head: Geto's scream. Gojo's collapse. Riko's silence.

Chapter 70 : Where the Bloods Lead