The humid stillness of a mountain village hovered like a curse in the air, both literally and metaphorically. The trio—Kishibe, Gojo, and Geto—stood at the edge of a dense pine forest that shrouded the cursed spirit they'd been assigned to exorcise. It was an upper-grade curse, something that had taken out three first-grade sorcerers in the span of a week. They were to assess, contain, or eliminate.
Kishibe crouched by a tree, his knife drawn, the jagged edge of it worn and pitted. "So, remind me," he muttered, "why are we wasting time chasing curses that killed three people when the higher-ups could just nuke the place?"
Geto pushed his bangs back and exhaled. "Because property damage costs money, and exorcisms don't."
Gojo smirked, leaning lazily against a branch with his blindfold up, revealing a single glinting eye. "Besides, it's good training. You'll thank the elders when you're older, Kishibe."
"Older than what? You?" Kishibe scoffed. "I already feel older just looking at you flap your gums."
They were tense, but not from fear. It was the kind of tension that brewed only among those who had fought together often enough to know where every knife would land, every blast would flare.
---
The woods grew darker, colder. The cursed energy hanging in the air thickened like molasses.
"Split up," Gojo said. "Kishibe, head left. Geto and I will sweep around from the right."
"No," Kishibe said flatly. "We stick together. This thing already killed three. I don't like walking into a haunted house alone."
"Scared?" Gojo asked with a grin.
"I'm not scared. I'm careful. You should try it sometime."
Geto nodded, sensing the weight of something wrong here. "He's right. We stick together. We move in, slow and deliberate."
The cursed spirit revealed itself like smoke slithering from the trees. It had a bloated, spider-like body, multiple human faces pressed into its carapace, and it screamed with the voices of its victims. The sound warped the air.
Gojo extended his hand, preparing a cursed technique. "Cursed Technique: Lapse—Blue."
Nothing happened.
"Tch. Still can't control it properly."
Kishibe didn't wait. He dashed forward, knife glowing faintly with cursed energy. The Severance technique activated as he slashed, cutting through one of the creature's limbs like it was paper. The technique didn't just cut flesh—it severed cursed energy itself. The limb writhed, then vanished entirely, as if it had never been attached.
"Nice trick," Geto muttered, calling forth a low-level curse from his sleeve and launching it forward like a spear. It pierced the creature's face, stunning it.
Gojo followed, moving in, fists ready since he couldn't rely on his technique yet. "I hate using my hands for this crap," he muttered.
Kishibe scoffed. "Good. You need the humility."
The creature screeched and lunged at Gojo, who barely avoided its maw. "Cover me!" he yelled.
Kishibe dove low, slashing upward. The cursed energy in his blade flared, severing another chunk of the creature. It reeled.
"Behind you!" Geto shouted, launching another curse.
Gojo turned and uppercut the cursed spirit as the summoned entity slammed into it. The impact knocked it backward into Kishibe's path.
"Now!" Geto called.
Kishibe's eyes sharpened. He plunged his knife into the curse's core—an unblinking red eye buried deep in its torso. The Severance cursed technique flashed again. The eye didn't just rupture—it vanished.
The curse imploded, its body collapsing inward until nothing remained.
---
The three of them stood in the clearing, panting. The air was lighter now. The village behind them would sleep in peace, never knowing how close they had been to being devoured.
"You're getting better at directing that cursed energy," Geto said to Kishibe.
Kishibe wiped the blade clean on his coat. "Still doesn't feel natural."
"Doesn't need to," Gojo said. "You've got something none of us do. You sever energy. It's terrifying."
"I'll take terrifying over elegant any day," Kishibe muttered.
As they turned to walk back through the woods, the air warmer, their silhouettes stretched long in the setting sun.
"By the way," Gojo said suddenly, "you still owe me dinner for last week."
Kishibe sighed. "Next mission, if we survive, I'll consider it."
"Deal."
Geto walked behind them, smiling faintly at the banter. He didn't say it aloud, but something about these two—the rawness of Kishibe, the recklessness of Gojo—it grounded him. The world outside could be chaos, but in this trio, there was something solid. Something unshakable.
The Monster Trio was starting to live up to the name.