𝐂𝐲𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜 ʲᵘʲᵘˢᵗᵘ ᵏᵃⁱˢᵉⁿ

six.

note: i struggled with this one. had to rewrite 2/3 of it because i hated how it was originally, and i still don't like it, but it's a little better than what i had before. hopefully it doesn't sound as weird as i perceived--filler chapters are a pain to write, smh. thank you for 150+ reads, btw. i didn't think i'd get this far, like, ever, lmao.

What awaited you in the med wing is not a pretty sight.

You're not even sure if you can call whatever are occupying four of the beds in the room humans anymore. Their skins resemble the color of ash, and their limbs are bent in every awkward angle imaginable.

Had you seen their faces in more normal circumstances, you'd think someone just recreated those creatures found inside those grotesque fiction movies.

"What... happened to them?"

You're well aware of the damage curses can inflict, but these four have it particularly rough.

More importantly, you wonder, how the hell are they still alive?

It's not uncommon to see corpses that barely resemble a person in the morgue, but to have them in the med wing implies they haven't kicked the bucket just yet, and that makes the whole situation even stranger.

Did the curse hesitate or something? But why would it do that?

A tired sigh from Ieiri wrings you out of your pondering. "I don't know the full details but, apparently, their classmate attacked them, then proceeded to shove their bodies into a locker."

Your jaw drops. She mentions a locker, as in singular, not plural. You quickly glance over at the victims again, grimacing at the scene that plays in your head from her description alone.

No wonder they looked like folded origami.

And said classmate? So a human was behind this?

A curse-user, perhaps? There are cursed residuals sticking to their wounds, so it couldn't have been a typical beating.

Just what kind of monster are they?

"...Jesus."

"I know. Could hardly believe it myself the first time I heard it," Shoko offers a pair of surgical gloves to you, which you gladly take.

"What's a kid like that doing in a normal high school, anyways?" you ponder out loud, "Wouldn't it be safer to send him here?"

"He was. Is, actually."

"Oh." you say dumbly, only to reel back a second later, having realizing the implication behind her words. "Wait, what."

Dismissing your dumbfounded expression, she adds, "Which reminds me," She pulls down her surgical mask. "I didn't call you here just to help."

One of your eyebrows shoots up at that.

"Regarding our conversation this morning," she begins, "I wasn't able to contact Gojo directly, but I did get word from Yaga that he's out escorting someone–"

Her brown irises bore into yours as the next words leave her mouth.

"–someone dangerous."

You don't like the sound of that. Placing your fingers under your chin, you try to recall the bit of information your juniors had provided you with.

"Shortly after I texted you, I ran into the first years. They said something similar, but according to them, instead of 'someone dangerous', it's new stu– oh."

You finally connected the dots. Gojo's company. Injured classmates. Transfer student. Someone dangerous.

"Oh."