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“You don't belong here, Itadori Yuuji.” He hears a female voice behind him and startles.
He turns, spotting a young woman with long brown hair in a short white summer dress staring at him only a few steps away. He didn't hear her approaching. A silence follows ahead, with him staring back at her, reluctant to reply. Is she human?
“You don't belong here, Itadori Yuuji.” She repeats in a whisper, unblinking. “You don't belong here either, xxx.” Her last words are distorted, but he can feel Sukuna flaring into life beneath his skin.
A mouth is formulated on his cheek immediately. “How do you know my real name, woman?” Sukuna snarls, sounding enraged. “Who the hell are you?”
She tilts her head and blinks, but it feels forced. “Who am I?” The woman echoes. Her eyes bore into them, making him uneasy. “I forgot.” She admits and smiles. The smile is strained at the edges, a bit terrifying. “I lived here for so long I forgot.” The woman sounds dispassionate, empty.
“What—what’s here?” He dares to ask finally.
Her smile widens, showing a line of sharp, white teeth.
“The Backrooms.” Is the answer.
He frowns, the name unfamiliar.
“What do you mean by the backrooms?” He pries, suddenly getting colder.
His fingertips are numb, and when the woman takes a step towards him, he follows back. She tilts her head, the smile dropping. Her features change due to the light, showing pale, sunken cheeks and visible veins on her skin. And there is this odd aura around her, speaking of something straight out of this world, mysterious and unpredictable. He gulps audibly.
“Oi, Brat. Don't tell me you are scared of this ugly—”
She snaps her fingers, the sound loud in the emptiness of the yellow room. Sukuna doesn't say another word. He’s been forcibly silenced. The woman smiles again, now in a more friendly way. He stares at her, unable to move or look away, her presence heavy and prominent.
“Come on, Yuuji-kun! Let's go!” She says cheerfully, her voice shifting into a childish one, and holds out her hand towards him expectantly.
He knows. He knows she wants him to take her hand, but he isn't sure if that's the right choice. She's the first he encountered here so far, but he also has no idea for how long he's been walking around those yellow corridors and rooms, completely lost. Is she even real? It feels easy to lose your mind here, with all the same sights at every corner—the wall’s pattern staying exactly the same, only the rooms having different shapes and signs he can't decipher. The fluorescent light makes him squint his eyes in annoyance, the constant buzzing causing his head to spin. He tried to get back once and ended up in an entirely new room altogether. It's unnerving, the silent pressure to find a way out of here, which seems hidden or even nonexistent.
“I will lead you to the exit.” The woman says then as if reading his mind while standing up on her toes excitedly, and the proposition picks his interest. “You just need to hold my hand and not let go. No matter what.” She cheers and grins at him, thrilled.
He looks into her unblinking eyes, trying to find any ounce of malice or guile there, but finds none—nothing at all, just emptiness and almost tired sadness underneath, not matching her current behavior at all, so he frowns, puzzled.
“Don't you want to get out of here? Get back to your friends and Sensei?” She hurries him with another tilt of the head and glances at the corner, her face morphing into a sharp scowl for a second till it disappears, her expression dispassionate again, the enthusiastic demeanor forgotten. “Make your decision, Itadori Yuuji. We can't stay too long in one place.” The woman lowers her voice threateningly.
It sounds like a very important rule, with a silent “or” speaking of danger. He hesitates for a moment, but the perspective of leaving this place is too good to miss it, so he reaches and grasps the woman’s hand in a firm grip.
Her hand is cold. It doesn't surprise him since her clothes are too scanty for such a place.
“You are warm.” She observes on the contrary, and an authentic, relieved smile blooms on her face, her eyes brightening for a moment, making him stunned. Then she is already tugging him somewhere. “We need to hurry. The corridors are changing all the time, but I know the trick. Just trust me. And don't. Let. Go.”
He has no clue how the woman is able to navigate through this place, seeming familiar with every corner of the Backrooms. Sometimes, the walls move or the ceiling falls, but she predicts every move, leading the way without issue. After a few turns, she stops abruptly, and he bumps into her from behind, taken by surprise. The woman pays it no mind, staring head-on, her body tense and ready. Her eyes snap to him, the expression changing into a desperate one.
“Don't talk. Don't look. Don't move. Don't acknowledge it. Just hold my hand. Breathe.” She whispers impatiently, and before he can reply, his hand is clasped tighter, cutting him off.
A moment later, something appears in the corner of his peripheral vision, and a small gasp leaves his mouth involuntarily. The thing approaches them while huffing heavily and groaning. There is this urge to take a glimpse at it, but he's too petrified to disobey the woman, just staring back into her dull eyes; the coldness seeping from her hand is grounding him in one place. Whatever it is, it's monstrous, made of some kind of black goo, and stinks immensely. He clenches his jaw, gritting his teeth at the odor, fighting with tears gathering in his eyes. He breathes through his nose shallowly, his heart leaping in his chest at a quick pace. She senses it and squeezes his hand for reassurance, then blinks at him slowly, completely unbothered by the smell. The creature sniffs them curiously, yet since they remain in silence, unmoving, it leaves them after a while, its stomps echoing in the endless corridors till they fade utterly. He doesn't let himself exhale with relief until the woman moves first, deeming it safe.
“What the hell was that?” He hisses quietly, not letting go of her hand.
She doesn't answer him, just pulling at his hand yet again, now more vigilant of their surroundings. In the silence of their escape, he realizes something quite obvious.
She walks silently. There is no sound of her footsteps.
The only sounds here are his own steps, the constant noise of lamps above them, and his breathing.
He falters at the realization, missing his footing, so she looks back at him, her head turning at a painful angle.
“We are almost at the exit.” The woman informs him in a hushed tone, smiling slightly.
And only thanks to this statement, he doesn't let go of her hand, determined to get out of here as fast as possible, deciding to ponder about her identity later.
She tugs him further, humming a song under her nose, and he trails behind reluctantly yet obediently. Till they pass another room and he stops dead in his tracks at the awful smell of a decomposing… human… body?
He lets go of her hand as if burned to cover his mouth, backing up to the yellow wall and gasping for air.
Because the body lying on the floor is dressed in a dirty white summer dress. The same as the woman standing in front of him is wearing while frowning angrily.
“You—your—” He stutters weakly and points at the dead body with a trembling hand, unable to formulate words properly.
She doesn't look in the pointed direction, just boring her empty eyes into him, scrunching her face in fury, the light from a nearby lamp flickering ominously.
“I told you to not let go of my hand, Yuuji.” The woman spits in a low, threatening voice, then smiles sweetly, the anger gone. “Come on, let's hold hands again!” She proposes happily and holds out her hand invitingly.
“Don't touch me. You are dead.” He utters in a whisper full of horror.
Her right eye twitches, the smile fading, and she withdraws her hand slowly.
“Me?” She asks in a small voice, then starts laughing abruptly, the loud sound carrying through the entire place. “What are you talking about, silly? I'm not dead!” The woman chuckles at the idea, waving her hand dismissively.
“Then whose body is lying there?” He murmurs, his voice breaking, and points again.
She glances this time and freezes at the sight with wide eyes, her mouth agape. The temperature in the room drops suddenly, so he shivers and gulps, unsure. When he blinks, she's already sitting on the ground, hands gripping her hair in anguish.
“No, no, no, no, no.” She mumbles and shakes her head repeatedly. “I'm not dead. I'm not dead. I'm not dead.” She chants like a mantra and produces a piercing wail. “I can't be dead. I can't be dead, I was—I was searching for the exit this entire time! It's right behind this room!” The woman cries out and sobs in a heartbreaking way.
Due to her last words, he instantly snaps his attention at the entry to the next room. Her whines cut off, the woman sensing his plan. They stare at each other in tension.
“No!” She shouts then and crawls towards him, but he's faster, sprinting to the exit with a racing heart. The woman manages to grab his left ankle, her sharp nails digging into his bare skin there to the point of breaking it, leaving marks. “Don't leave me alone, Yuuji! I don't want to be alone anymore!” She pleads desperately, latching to him with her ice-cold hands.
“I'm sorry.” He whispers and shakes her off his body harshly, ignoring the painful groan to run towards the door with an exit label above, pushing the handle with a relieved exhale.
It's not working.
With a shaky breath, he tries again and again, but the door is closed. Another rippling laugh forces him to pause, and he tenses at the sound, his muscles locking up. The woman is laughing joyfully behind him, so he dares to take a quick glance above his shoulder at her, but she's gone. He gulps, then takes a deep breath to find his courage and slowly leaves the door, going back to the previous room.
The mischievous laughter is coming from the decomposed body on the floor.
“Ah, I told you to not let go of my hand, Yuuji-kun.” The woman chuckles to his ear, and he sees her in his peripheral vision standing on the ceiling on his right, against gravity. “Now you can't leave this place anymore!” She declares with mirth and giggles like a toddler. He can only stand straight while trembling in pure fear, too terrified to even look at her properly. “You are going to be eaten! Or killed! Or…” Her voice drops an octave. “Starve to death like me.”
When he blinks again, she's right in front of him, so he flinches back, but her cold hands come to hold his face steadily, keeping him from running away. The woman smiles widely and chuckles again.
“You are so warm, Yuuji-kun! I can't get enough of it.” She sighs, and her hands slide lower to his neck. “Can I hug you?” The woman asks hopefully and doesn't wait for his answer, embracing him with a soft, dreamy hum.
He hesitates, his fingers twitching, but then he takes a deep breath and hugs back, so she chuckles, pleased.
“I'm sorry that you died here alone.” He mumbles into her hair truthfully.
“Oh. You are so sweet, Yuuji.” The woman decides and sags into the hold gladly.
The moment she puts her guard down, he pushes her away and sprints blindly back to where they came from, apologizing to her silently in his mind.
“Yuuji?” She murmurs in disbelief.
He doesn't look back, just running ahead, praying to get away from her and this place as far as possible. There is another room he hasn't seen before, and just when he's about to pass it, the ground disappears right underneath him, and a loud scream slips from his lungs in surprise. On pure instinct, his hands catch the remaining floor with all his might, his fingers closing at the slippery surface. He takes a quick peek down and regrets it immediately, finding a hole of complete blackness below, stretching endlessly. The woman catches up to him and gasps, kneeling to help him climb up.
“No. No, no, no. You can't leave me.” She whines and grabs his forearm with a crestfallen expression. “Don't go, Yuuji.” The woman sobs, tugging at him with an effort.
He has a split second to decide, then releases the hold, letting himself be swallowed by the unknown black pit.
“Nooo!” She yells, dejected, and reaches with her hand uselessly, too far away to touch him.
He falls rapidly, the light becoming a small dot, her shouts getting quieter until there is nothing beside the darkness surrounding him and the sensation of falling.
He opens his eyes with a loud gasp and sits up on the bed, blinking from confusion, his bedsheets sticky from the sweat. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, still stuck in the Backrooms. He needs a few moments to calm down his breathing and comprehend it was all just a nightmare, and he's safe in his dorm room, the clock pointing at 3:46. He huffs a silent laugh, relieved, and just when he's about to lay down and go back to sleep, his left ankle stings, so he hisses and reaches to turn on the night lamp, squinting his eyes at the irritating lightness. He shifts on the bed to examine his left leg curiously and freezes at the sight.
There are fresh nail scratches on his ankle, bleeding unhurriedly.