Jujutsu Kaisen: False Dawn

(Flashback—One day ago)

The room was dark, lit only by a small lamp flickering near the window, casting long shadows across the walls. Ren sat cross-legged on the floor of his cramped apartment, papers scattered all around him. He had scribbled down the wording of binding vows again and again, testing them like math problems. This was his plan—the only plan. If he couldn't improve fast enough through training, then he had to gamble everything on what Jujutsu called a miracle: Binding Vows.

Binding Vows weren't fully understood. Even Ren, with all the manga knowledge he brought into this world, couldn't say for sure how they worked. Why? Because Gege Akutami, the author of Jujutsu Kaisen, never explained the rules clearly. They just… worked, sometimes. Other times, they didn't. That's how Jujutsu was. Flawed, mysterious, and terrifying.

Still, Ren had sketched out three options. Three vows he could present to Yuta.

The first one was straightforward. A command vow.

"If you believe I can carry her curse better than you, then speak: 'She's yours now.' 

In return, I will carry her burden, and you will be free—no longer haunted by her presence."

Simple, elegant. It appealed to logic and emotion. But Ren could already sense the cracks. What if Yuta didn't believe? What if the system needed more sincerity? Or what if just saying "She's yours now" wasn't binding enough? The vow relied too much on intention—and in Jujutsu, intention and cursed energy were like tightropes to walk across.

So, the second vow was more spiritual.

"If your heart truly wants Rika to go away, then let me take her curse. 

In doing so, I vow to carry it forever and never return it to you."

This one was emotional. Based on desire, not belief. It relied on Yuta wanting Rika to be gone. But that was even riskier. What if Yuta didn't want her gone deep down? What if he was still holding on to her? If the system felt that, then nothing would happen. And Ren would be back to zero.

The third one… Ren didn't even write it down. It was a twisted fail-safe. One so vague, so open-ended that he wasn't even sure what it would do. He would only use that one if everything else failed.

Ren looked down at his hand, tracing the cursed energy flowing through his palm. "I don't want to do the third one," he muttered. "But if I have to… I will."

(End flashback)

---

(Present—The Park)

The morning was quiet, cloudy like yesterday. The wind carried the smell of leaves and far-off rain. Ren stood across from Yuta in the small park, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. He could feel Rika. Faint, but watching. Always watching.

"There's a way for you to pass your curse on to me," Ren finally said, breaking the silence. "It's called a binding vow. Like a magic contract—one where power changes hands if both sides agree."

Yuta blinked, confused. "Magic contract? Like… real magic?"

The way Yuta looked—wide-eyed, hopeful, almost childlike—was funny. For a moment, Ren almost laughed. But he didn't. This wasn't a joke. This was everything.

"Most of the time," Ren continued, "a vow means one person gives something and receives something in return. Equal exchange. Simple."

Yuta sat down slowly on a nearby bench. "Fair exchange? How is that fair? I'd just be giving you Rika's curse. That's not a trade—that's punishment."

Ren walked over and patted Yuta on the shoulder gently. "Don't worry about me, kid," he said softly. "I'm already cursed. Taking on another one won't make a difference."

Yuta turned his head and looked at him. There was something in Ren's voice that sounded old. Like someone who had lived three lives in the span of one. It was strange. It made Ren feel real to Yuta. Like someone who could take this weight away.

Ren then repeated the first binding vow aloud.

Yuta hesitated but nodded. "Okay… I believe you can carry her better than me. She's yours now."

Nothing happened.

Silence.

Ren didn't even feel a flicker of cursed energy moving between them. He frowned, hiding the frustration.

"Try the second one," he said calmly.

Yuta hesitated again, more nervous this time. "If my heart… truly wants Rika to go away, then… let Ren take her curse. I vow to never ask for her back…"

Still nothing.

Yuta's body didn't move. Rika didn't react. Not even a tremble of cursed energy in the air.

Ren stared at the bench, trying not to let the frustration rise in his chest. "It's not enough," he thought. "It's never enough."

Yuta slumped forward, elbows on knees. "It's not working… Looks like I'm really going to live like this forever, huh?"

Ren sat down beside him. His mind was blank for a moment. He didn't have a backup plan—at least not one he wanted to use. Not yet.

"I thought I had it," Ren thought. "I had everything figured out. The logic. The wording. The rules. I thought knowledge would be enough."

But this was Jujutsu.

In Jujutsu, even knowing everything doesn't mean you win.

Ren glanced at Yuta, who stared at the dirt with hollow eyes. "He really is just a kid," Ren thought. "Just a scared, sweet kid who didn't ask for any of this."

It was quiet between them for a while. Just the wind rustling the trees. Just the weight of failure.

Ren reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen and old receipt. He began to sketch the third vow.

He didn't want to use it. But he might have to.

(To be continued...)