The hallway felt longer than usual. Every step Itadori Yuuji took echoed against the walls, a hollow sound swallowed by the void.
His feet moved without purpose. No destination. No answers. Just an endless corridor pulling him deeper into its emptiness.
He wasn't sure when exactly he had left the meeting room. All he knew was that he couldn't stay there any longer.
The voices of the higher-ups still clung to his ears—dull, emotionless discussions, words that clattered like soulless metal against cold marble.
They didn't speak about Reika as a person. They spoke about her as a problem to be handled. Reika was dead. And she was no longer their concern.
Yuuji clenched his teeth, something boiling in the pit of his stomach. His fingers curled tighter around the ancient bracelet. Cold. Rigid. Real.
Not like the ashes carried away by the wind. What am I supposed to do? His thoughts spiraled, chasing a solution that refused to appear.
Go back to the scene? But for what? I saw it myself—how the fire devoured her. There's nothing left. Hunt down Jogo? And then what? Killing him won't change anything.
His steps faltered, coming to a halt in the middle of the empty hallway. A faint reflection stared back at him from the window's glass.
He barely recognized himself. Since when did I start looking like this? His eyes—They no longer belonged to someone who once laughed freely.
Something had died in them. Just like the last time he lost everything. His body felt heavy, as if every breath was just another meaningless routine.
For a moment, Yuuji simply stood there. The world was quiet. Night had swallowed the sun. The sky was nothing but a deep, endless black. And in that hollow corridor, he was completely, utterly alone.
───⭑⭒⚊奈落の顎⚊⭒⭑───
The air in the training field felt colder than usual.
Himari rotated her wrist, watching the flickering golden curse energy at her fingertips. The evening light bathed its glow, making it stand out even more than the small cuts decorating her skin.
Not far away, Tetsuya stood with ragged breaths, his hands still trembling after his technique had nearly backfired on him. He bit his lip, frustrated. Maybe he still wasn't strong enough.
Meanwhile, in the shadows of the bleachers that lined the field, Ryou sat with a calm expression, though his eyes never stopped scanning his surroundings. He didn't join the training. He didn't need to. He preferred to observe.
Yet, all three of them froze at the same time. A tightness settled in their chests before they even realized why. And when they lifted their heads—
The figure was already standing at the edge of the field.
Itadori Yuuji.
Normally, he would arrive with a wide grin, radiating an energy that felt like the morning sun. But the person standing before them now... was not the Yuuji they knew.
His face was thinner, as if the life had been drained from him overnight.
His eyes no longer held their usual spark—empty, hollow.
And his aura...
It wasn't the aura of a teacher eager to see his students grow. It was the presence of someone who had lost the reason to keep moving forward.
Tetsuya swallowed, his throat dry. Ryou tried to read his teacher's expression, but found no cracks—nothing he could decipher.
Himari, on the other hand, didn't stay silent. She took a step forward. The silence was too sharp, too suffocating. And Himari couldn't stand it.
So she did the one thing she always did—she spoke. "What happened?" Her voice sliced through the air, but it did nothing to dispel the weight pressing down on them.
Yuuji didn't answer.
He simply stood there, staring at them.
Not with anger.
Not with disappointment.
Not with concern.
But with something far more dangerous—Emptiness.
The evening wind blew, carrying the scent of earth and sweat rising from the training field. Usually, there would be the crackling of cursed energy, or Himari's frustrated shouts when her technique missed.
But now? There was only silence. A heavy silence. A silence that couldn't be accepted.
Yuuji stared at his students. It was difficult. They were still too young. Too inexperienced. They weren't supposed to know what it felt like to lose someone like this.
But he couldn't protect them from it. With a voice barely above a whisper, he finally spoke.
"Reika... is gone."
Once.
Twice.
The words hung in the air, vibrating in the space between them. And then—The reactions came.
Himari laughed—but it wasn't the laugh of joy. It was the kind of laugh someone makes after hearing a bad joke. Her eyes, usually alight with confidence, widened with confusion, denial, the inability to accept reality.
"What? You're joking, right? This is a lie. It has to be a lie! There's no way!" She stepped forward, her voice rising, filled with anger.
"You were supposed to protect her! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO KEEP HER SAFE!" Her fists clenched, golden energy flickering wildly around her, completely uncontrolled.
Tetsuya, who had been silent the whole time, bit his lip. His gaze dropped to the ground, his hands gripping the edges of his uniform tightly.
"If a student can die just like that..." Tetsuya murmured, his voice barely audible, "Can we really survive? Should we just give up?"
Yuuji didn't respond. And out of all of them, only one person didn't react immediately.
Ryou.
His sharp eyes locked onto Yuuji. There was no anger like Himari. No fear like Tetsuya. Only doubt.
"Is Reika really dead?" His voice was calm but tense, like someone who didn't want to hear the answer.
Yuuji didn't reply. So Ryou repeated himself, louder this time. "Is REIKA really dead? That Reika? You're kidding, Sensei!"
His hands trembled. Because deep downHe couldn't imagine Reika dying. Not now. Not like this. Yuuji's lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something. But he couldn't.
Because he knew—No answer could fill the emptiness in this room.