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The calamity is finally over and everyone's busy taking care of the collateral damages across Shinjuku and Kyoto. Many were relieved and joyous with this victory, as they know, it'll be a history in the Jujutsu Society while some weren't fortunate and grieved from the loss of their colleagues, bidding their deceased bodies on marked graves with tears and woeful poems, for they had sacrificed themselves for the greater good.
Yet unlike them, Satoru Gojo didn't feel anything but anger and the bitterness of betrayal.
He stood in front of Suguru Getou’s mangled body, the man he used to label as his strongest ally and dearest friend was dying in front of him. Satoru felt lingering pain in his heart — but Suguru knew what he'd done. He had become the person Satoru fears the most; a villain.
"Can you do me one last favour, Satoru?" Asked by a weakened Getou, his blood smearing on the ground as he looks at his old friend.
Satoru didn't said anything and simply turned around.
“In my shrine, there's a girl. She's held captive by my remaining curses — and I owe her a lot of apologies — she's just a bystander. I've fallen too far but — can you at least help me correct my last mistake?” Getou’s eyes shrunk as his lips were pulled into a gentle smile, his life slipping away in a fast pace. “Please, Satoru. Help her.”
Satoru Gojo hated how easily he gave in with the last request of his friend, leaving Suguru Getou to pass away in the dirty alley. He knew someone from the crew would pick up the body, so he didn't think of Getou’s carcass much. He teleported on the temple that was owned by his old friend — and he was met by hundreds of curses — territorial and snarling in his direction.
Without saying a word, Satoru completely eradicated them with his hollow purple. He was too numb to feel anything while listening to the pleading cries of the curses. He sauntered inside the temple and paused after seeing a body of a young woman, probably in her early twenties, chained like a ragdoll on the ground.
He went to you, crouching and destroying the chains that were wrapped tightly on your wrists. The skin was filled with contusions and bruises. Satoru couldn't help but to wince, lifting you up while you laid unconscious on his firm arms.
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