Archive of Our Own

The night felt endless as I lay in my bed, the soft rustling of the curtains against the window the only sound in the quiet dorm room. My eyes were wide open, staring up at the ceiling, though sleep wouldn’t come.

Tomorrow was the day of the Kyoto Sister Team Battle. The biggest event I’d been training for. It felt surreal to finally be on the edge of it, knowing that everything I’d worked for would be put to the test.
I wasn’t nervous, not really. More like... eager. The kind of anticipation you feel right before something important happens.

The adrenaline was already starting to build up in my chest, even though it was hours before the battle would begin.

The idea of fighting curses wasn't something that scared me. It was what I’d been waiting for ever since I stepped foot in Jujutsu High. Plus, I liked fighting, I wasn’t exactly weak.

I rolled onto my side, trying to get comfortable, but my thoughts kept returning to the battle. The team assignments. The strategy. I’d be paired with some of the most skilled sorcerers, maybe even the most dangerous, if you counted Toji Fushiguro. I’d heard enough about him to know he was different from the others.

Detached. Cold. I didn’t get why he bothered staying with a team like this. It seemed like he could handle things on his own just fine. But I was excited to fight alongside him, if only to see how he fought. It would be a challenge, but that was what made it exciting.

I thought about the plan, trying to mentally rehearse the strategies we’d gone over. We’d be splitting into two groups, covering different sections of the battlefield. It was smart, less chaos if we divided and conquered. There was always the possibility that something would go wrong. That was the nature of battles like this, they were unpredictable, and anything could happen.

I sighed, turning over in my bed. It wasn’t fear, exactly. Just an awareness that things could get dangerous. That was the reality of being a sorcerer, after all. The stakes were high, and if things went sideways, it wouldn’t just be a matter of losing the battle, it would be about survival.

I always did this, lying awake, thinking too much, trying to predict every outcome before it even happened. It wasn’t helpful, but it never really stopped me either. Just one of those habits I hadn’t grown out of.

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the cool night air settle in.

I must have dozed off while thinking, because the next thing I heard was a sharp knock, once, then twice. Firm, no-nonsense.

“Get up,” came Maki’s voice through the door. Calm, but not exactly patient. “We’re meeting for practice in fifteen.”

I blinked at the ceiling, eyes stinging from the lack of sleep. My body felt like it had only just started to rest. For a moment I didn’t move, hoping she might walk away and let me have five more minutes. She didn’t.

“You’re already late,” she added. “Don’t make me come in there.”

I groaned quietly and pushed myself up on one elbow, rubbing my eyes with the heel of my hand. The dorm room was dim, the blinds drawn, with faint morning light seeping through the cracks.

The air felt still, carrying that cool edge that always lingered just before sunrise. I sat up fully, dragging a hand through my hair, and exhaled a quiet sigh.

“I’m up,” I called back, voice low and rough.

“Good,” she said, already turning to leave. Her footsteps echoed faintly down the hall.

I sat there a moment longer, shoulders stiff, still caught between the weight of the previous night’s thoughts and the looming reality of the day ahead.

The Kyoto Sister School Battle was happening today, there was no avoiding it now. No more room for doubt or hesitation. Just the hours ahead, and whatever they were about to throw at us.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, reaching for my uniform. The fabric felt colder than usual. I got dressed slowly, methodically, trying not to overthink the ache of tension still sitting low in my chest. There wasn’t any real reason to be anxious. We’d trained for this, planned for it. Maybe it was just the usual pre-battle nerves.

I tied my jacket loosely around my waist and ran a hand down my face, trying to shake off the last of the sleep. From the hallway, I could hear the murmur of others already up and moving. Doors opening, footsteps on tile, the faint clatter of someone’s rushed breakfast.

I grabbed my weapon from the corner and slipped it into place with practiced ease. My movements were second nature by now, steady, automatic. As I stepped out of the room and into the quiet hallway a faint breeze met me in the hallway, cool and clean, a quiet reminder that morning had finally come.

The cafeteria wasn’t crowded yet, but the low hum of early-morning conversation already filled the room. The lights overhead buzzed faintly, casting a soft yellow tint over the metal tables and worn-out floor tiles. A few second-years sat near the back, picking lazily at their food, half-awake and hunched over steaming bowls.

I grabbed a tray and moved through the line, mechanically scooping rice, eggs, and a side of pickled vegetables without paying much attention. My appetite was dull. Not gone, just quiet, like my body understood I needed the fuel but hadn’t caught up to the fact that it was actually morning.

The nerves sat in my stomach like a low ache, not sharp, but steady. It didn’t feel like fear. More like focus.

Maki was already seated near the window when I spotted her, alone, arms crossed, staring out across the courtyard as if lost in her own thoughts. I slid into the seat across from her without saying much, and she didn’t look up, just gave a faint nod like she’d been expecting me.

A few moments passed like that, quiet. The clink of chopsticks on ceramic, the rustle of trays sliding across tabletops.

“Did you sleep at all?” Maki finally asked, not looking away from the window.

I shook my head once. “Not really. You?”

She made a soft noise that might’ve been a laugh, or maybe just a breath through her nose. “Didn’t think so.”

Before either of us could say more, the doors swung open with a louder-than-necessary thud. Nobara Kugisaki strode in, mini ponytail bouncing, her expression way too awake for this hour. She spotted us almost instantly and made a beeline for the table, tray in hand.

“Ugh,” she groaned dramatically as she sat down beside me, “they didn’t have any of the good rice left. I swear, if someone ate the last of the plum onigiri, I’m putting them in a cursed painting.”

“You know that’s not how cursed techniques work,” Maki muttered without looking at her.

“Let me have the fantasy.”

Nobara picked at her food, then glanced between the two of us.

“You two look dead. You okay?”

“Fine,” I said, though it came out more flat than I intended.

She gave me a look, a little skeptical but didn’t push it. “Right. Everyone says they’re fine right before a big mission. Classic sorcerer denial.”

I didn’t answer, and neither did Maki. The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable exactly, just familiar. We were all used to holding our thoughts close before a mission. What was there to say, really? It was the Kyoto Sister School Battle.

We’d trained for it. Talked through every plan, every backup plan, and even the plan for if the first two failed. But even with all that preparation, none of us really knew how it would go.

Soon, Toge walked in, quiet as always, hoodie half-zipped, hands tucked into his sleeves. He gave a little nod and sat across from Nobara, offering a tired “Salmon” as a greeting. She smiled in return, already used to translating his onigiri-code.

“Guess that means ‘good morning,’” she said, popping a piece of egg into her mouth. “Are you ready to beat up the Kyoto kids and a butt load of curses?”

Toge offered a thumbs up, followed by a neutral

“Tuna mayo.”

Nobara laughed. “See? He’s got confidence. That’s what we need more of around here.”

I stared down at my food for a few seconds before finally picking up my chopsticks again. The rice was lukewarm but fine. Better than going out to fight on an empty stomach.

Despite all the noise around us, the four of us sat in a kind of quiet bubble. It wasn’t peaceful exactly, but it was ours. A pause before everything kicked off.

The kind of stillness that only exists right before something exciting begins.
The morning after breakfast, the team gathered for a quick training session before the battle.

The training ground was a wide, open space just outside the dorm, lined with heavy mats and wooden posts, worn from years of use. The sun hung low, casting a sharp light that bounced off the metal tools and cursed objects scattered across the area. Everyone was scattered in their own little corners of the field, preparing for the day’s challenges, as the pressure of the battle started to settle in.

Maki was already moving, her figure a blur as she effortlessly performed her usual exercises. Her spear sliced through the air in rhythmic arcs, and I couldn’t help but watch her. There was always something mesmerizing about how she fought, her movements fluid, controlled, almost instinctive. She was a force, even without cursed energy. A strength that was something beyond what most people could even understand.

I tightened my grip around my own weapon, the katana resting against my shoulder, its weight familiar and reassuring. The blade had been passed down to me through my family, and its gleaming steel felt almost like an extension of myself. Its handle was wrapped in dark leather, worn from years of use but still sturdy in my hands.

It was light enough to handle with speed but strong enough to deal with curses when needed. I’d trained with it for years, and every strike felt as natural as breathing.

Nobara was off to the side, adjusting the nails in her pouch and making sure her hammer was properly balanced. She wasn’t as quiet as Maki, her usual loud energy bringing a certain vibrance to the otherwise tense atmosphere. Her voice was the first to cut through the silence.

“Oi, don’t just stand there staring. You’re supposed to be training too,” she said, a grin on her face as she watched me.

I blinked and snapped out of my thoughts, offering her a small smile. “I’m not staring.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Yeah, sure. You and your little crush on Maki. You should really focus on your training, though. You’ll need it for today.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue. Nobara’s teasing always had a way of cutting through the tension. Still, there was something in her voice that made it clear she wasn’t just joking. We were all feeling the weight of the mission ahead.

I slid my katana out of its sheath, the familiar sound of the steel slipping free making me feel just a bit more centered.

The blade was sharp, its edge polished and glinting under the morning sun as I tested the weight of it in my hands. With a few practiced swings, I felt the rhythm of the weapon, letting it move fluidly, instinctively. My muscles followed the movement, steadying my stance, focusing on the form.

“Don’t lose focus,” Maki’s voice cut through again.

She was still practicing, though her attention was now flicking toward us. “If you’re not concentrating, you’re not going to survive the day. Don’t think you can take it easy just because you’re used to your weapon.”

I nodded, refocusing. My katana felt natural in my grip, but Maki was right. Overconfidence could be as dangerous as hesitation. The edge of the blade felt sharp enough to cut through the tension in the air, though I knew the fight today wouldn’t be so simple.

I glanced back at Maki again, noticing how her spear whistled through the air, striking and slicing with precision. Her grip was just as steady, as familiar as mine with my katana. The difference was, Maki didn’t need cursed energy to make her weapon formidable. She’d honed her body to its peak, relying on skill alone.

Nobara was the next to break the silence, as she walked over and swung her hammer around with a loud thud. "Oi, stop being so serious. You look like you're about to face a thousand curses. Just warm up, we’re not going anywhere yet."

I shook my head, though I couldn’t help but feel that same unease gnawing at me. The thought of today’s battle hung over us all, but Nobara was right in her own way. There was no point in stressing too much. If we weren’t ready now, there was nothing more we could do to prepare.

From the far side of the field, I caught sight of Toji standing at the edge, his posture relaxed but somehow imposing. His eyes were cold as always, scanning the area, but he didn’t make any move toward the group. He wasn’t here to train with us. He was just... here, observing.

I felt a strange tension rise in my chest. Toji was a puzzle I couldn’t figure out, a combination of raw power and unrelenting detachment. But despite that, I couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of us, of me, standing there training like this.

Maki, of course, didn’t seem to care. She gave him only a brief glance before turning her attention back to her spear. Toji was just another part of the battlefield, someone who didn’t need to interact with the rest of us to prove his worth. He was a weapon in his own right, just like the rest of us.

Nobara noticed my gaze shifting toward him and snorted, shaking her head. "Don’t even bother with him. Toji’s not the type to offer you a hand or give advice. He’ll just watch and then leave when he feels like it."

I shifted my weight onto my back foot, raising my katana again in a few more calculated slashes. The blade glinted in the sun, each movement bringing a small but reassuring feeling of readiness.

“You’re right,” I muttered under my breath, forcing my thoughts back to the task at hand. “I’ll focus.”
Nobara laughed, but her grin faded just a little when she looked back at Toji.

She didn’t say it, but I knew what she was thinking, there was something unsettling about him, even though we didn’t know the full extent of his abilities. No one did.

The minutes passed, and the rest of the team continued with their individual drills. Maki and Nobara worked like they had nothing to lose. Toge was off in his corner, silently training, using his curse speech in small, controlled bursts to improve his precision.

I could feel the weight of the katana in my hands, the steady pressure of it guiding me, urging me to prepare for what was coming. There was no going back now.

As the training session continued, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of determination. This was it. No more doubts, no more distractions.

I was mid-swing when I felt eyes on me again.
Toji still stood at the edge of the field, arms crossed, gaze sharp. His expression hadn’t changed. Neither had his posture. Just like before, still, and unreadable.

I lowered my blade and exhaled through my nose. “You planning to say something,” I called, “or just watch all morning?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just pushed off the wall with a lazy kind of ease and crossed a few steps toward me. Not close enough to be friendly. Just close enough to make his presence heavier.

“You swing like you’re waiting for something,” he said. His voice was flat, low. “Stop waiting.”

I stared at him, caught off guard by the fact that he’d said anything at all.

“I’m not-” I started, but he was already turning away.

“Doesn’t matter. You either get serious now, or you’ll regret it later.”

The words weren’t advice. Not really. More like a warning dressed in indifference.

He walked off without looking back.

I watched him go, jaw tight. There was something about him that scraped against everything I believed in. He didn’t fight for people. He didn’t fight with honor. Just instinct and blood and the kind of strength that didn’t care who it crushed.
Still, part of me listened.

It wasn’t the first time I’d been told I hesitated.
Years ago, when I first touched a blade, I’d been afraid of hurting someone. The weight of responsibility felt too real, too heavy.

My instructor at the time, a family friend who trained me before I ever knew what cursed energy was, had said I had too much empathy for someone in this line of work.

“You’ll get someone killed if you don’t learn to cut first and think later,” she’d told me.
Back then, I didn’t understand. I thought control was what mattered. Precision. Discipline.

Now, standing here on the edge of a real battlefield, I wondered if she’d been right all along.
I lifted my katana again and let the blade rest steady in front of me. Maki and Nobara were still in motion. Toge was crouched low, practicing his cursed speech under his breath.

This would be the last quiet moment we’d get before everything started.

I gripped my blade tighter.

Then, a sharp whistle echoed across the training field. High, short, and unmistakable.

All motion stopped.

Maki straightened immediately, her spear lowering. Nobara paused with her hammer mid-swing. Even Toge looked up, the rhythm of his breaths stilling.

We didn’t need anyone to tell us what it meant.

“It’s time,” Maki said, voice calm but final.

Footsteps approached from the far side of the field, steady, deliberate. We turned as Gojo walked into view, sunglasses in place, his hands in his pockets like this was just another Tuesday. A few faculty followed behind, but it was Gojo who spoke.

“The Kyoto team is already on-site,” he said casually, but there was steel underneath. “You’ll move out in fifteen.”

My pulse kicked up. So soon.
Gojo’s gaze flicked over each of us. “Remember what we talked about. Stay in formation, watch for surprises, and don’t do anything reckless.” He paused. “Unless it’s really cool. Then we’ll talk.”

Nobara snorted. Toge muttered, “Salmon roe,” which I hoped meant we’re ready.

Gojo’s expression didn’t change, but he gave us a small nod. “You’ve trained for this. Now go make them regret underestimating you.”

He turned and walked off, already humming to himself, the moment oddly light considering what was coming.

I turned back to the others. Nobara adjusted her hammer across her back. Maki twirled her spear once and tightened her grip.

The tension between us wasn’t fear. It was the shared knowledge that from here on, everything would count.

I looked toward the treeline beyond the field. Somewhere out there, the Kyoto team waited. So did the curses. So did whatever this day was going to become.

No more training. No more preparation.
Just the mission.

The dense forest canopy above you barely let through the early morning light, casting long shadows over the ground where the team ran in steady formation.

Your breaths came in sync, each footstep rhythmic and sure on the thick forest floor. The trees stretched tall, like silent sentinels, their twisted branches weaving together to form a labyrinth of natural obstacles.

I could hear the sound of twigs snapping beneath our feet as we moved swiftly but quietly through the woods. The air was cool, but the thick humidity from the night’s dew made the atmosphere almost stifling. The scent of pine and wet earth mixed with the ever-present tang of cursed energy that lingered in the air, a smell almost metallic in nature, and one I’d long grown accustomed to.

“Stay sharp,” Maki called ahead, her voice cutting through the silence. “We’ve got curses to deal with before the main event.”

It wasn’t the first time I’d heard her say it, but today, those words hit differently. We had our mission, the Kyoto Sister School Battle, but there were always more immediate threats to deal with. The curses lurking beneath the surface were all part of the job. No matter how much training you went through, the real test would always be out there, in the field.

Nobara was already looking around, her fingers itching to pull out her nails, the unmistakable gleam of her hammer tucked against her side. She had an almost restless energy about her today, her eyes darting over the trees, ever alert for danger.
“I swear, if one more low-level curse jumps out at me today, I’m going to lose it,” she muttered under her breath, though her tone was more playful than anything.

Maki, of course, didn’t offer much in the way of reassurance. “Keep it together. They won’t wait for us to be ready.”

I glanced to my left, where Toji walked slightly behind, his usual expression unreadable. He was scanning the area, his hands resting loosely at his sides, not tense or ready for battle, just waiting.

His casual posture only added to the unnerving sense of indifference that seemed to radiate off him. No, he wouldn’t bother with these small fries. They didn’t interest him.

As we pressed on, the sense of anticipation hung thick in the air. It wasn’t just the cursed energy that made the atmosphere so heavy; it was the fact that we were heading into a battle that was as much about the unknown as it was about our training.

No matter how many curses you’d fought, no matter how many times you’d trained with your weapon, there would always be something unpredictable waiting for you.

“We’re almost there,” Maki said, her voice low, but her pace didn’t slow. She glanced over her shoulder, eyeing each of us in turn. “Get ready.”

Suddenly, the forest’s quiet was broken by a faint rustling, and then the first of them emerged, a low-level curse, but one that was still dangerous in its own right. It was a small, grotesque thing, its body hunched and covered in matted fur. Its eyes were wide, unblinking, and it screeched at the sudden appearance of humans, the noise high-pitched and grating.

Nobara grinned. “Finally,” she muttered, reaching into her pouch for a nail.

Without hesitation, she tossed it into the air and pulled out her hammer, her movements swift and practiced. The hammer came down with a sickening crunch, shattering the curse’s skull on impact. Blood and cursed energy splattered across the forest floor.
“That’s one,” she said, tossing her hammer to the side as if the fight hadn’t taken a second of her attention.

Maki didn’t even break her stride, her spear flashing in the air as she spun it with expert precision. Another curse, this one a twisted, serpentine creature with spindly limbs, slithered out from behind a tree, its jaws snapping in hunger. Maki’s spear pierced through its head with a single fluid movement, the curse’s body going limp before it even hit the ground.

“Not much of a challenge,” Maki remarked dryly, as she wiped the blood off her weapon with a quick flick of her wrist. “We’ll need more than this if we’re going to get any real experience today.”

I couldn’t help but agree. These were the typical curses you’d expect to find in a forest like this, weak, easy to dispatch, but still dangerous in their own right. I gripped my katana a little tighter, waiting for something more formidable to make its appearance.

Then, just as the thought crossed my mind, something more substantial emerged from the underbrush. It was a much larger curse, this one was humanoid, its skin mottled with dark, sickly veins that pulsed with cursed energy.

It had elongated arms, too long for any human, and jagged claws that scraped the bark of nearby trees as it lumbered toward us. Its eyes were empty, hollow sockets, but the cursed energy it radiated was thick, almost suffocating.

This was the kind of curse I had trained for. I could feel the adrenaline beginning to build in my chest. This was more like the battle we were preparing for.
Maki’s eyes narrowed as she studied the creature. “This one’s yours, right?” she asked, her tone flat, though there was an underlying challenge there.
I nodded without a word. It was time to put my training to the test.

The creature lunged first, its claws slashing through the air with terrifying speed. I didn’t hesitate. I drew my katana, its edge flashing in the dim light as I stepped into the strike, meeting the creature’s claws with my blade. The force of the impact sent a shock up my arm, but I pushed through, using the momentum to twist and counter.

The curse recoiled, but only for a moment before it came at me again, faster this time. I ducked beneath its swipe, moving in close to close the gap. My katana sliced through the air, cutting deep into the curse’s side. It howled in pain, but the wound wasn’t enough to stop it.

I spun my blade in a fluid arc, aiming for its throat. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I wasn’t waiting. The katana hit its mark, severing the creature’s head in one clean strike. The curse’s body crumpled to the ground in a heap, the cursed energy dissipating around it like a dark fog.

I stood there for a moment, breathing hard, but steady. The weight of my katana felt reassuring in my hands, the familiar steel a reminder of how much I had grown since I first held it.

“Well, that was a little more interesting,” I muttered, wiping the blade clean before sheathing it.
Nobara let out a low whistle, clearly impressed. “Not bad. Guess you’ve been holding back in training, huh?”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “Eh.”

Maki raised an eyebrow at me, though she didn’t say anything. She was already moving on, heading deeper into the forest as if the fight had never happened.

“Keep your focus,” she warned. “There’s more coming. And you’re still on the clock.”

I didn’t need her to remind me. The familiar tension settled back into my chest as we continued through the forest, moving silently now. The cursed energy that had previously surrounded us seemed to intensify, building like a storm just beyond the horizon.

And sure enough, more curses began to filter into the area. One by one, they emerged from the shadows, each of them larger and more dangerous than the last.

At first, it was another low-level creature, this one had the form of a twisted, spindly spider, its legs clicking against the leaves as it skittered toward us. It was fast, too fast for comfort, but Nobara was already on it, her nails slicing through the air like deadly projectiles.

Each one hit their mark, embedding themselves deep into the curse’s body. With a final, sharp flick of her wrist, she finished it off with a well-placed blow from her hammer.

“That was easy,” she commented, brushing her hands off as if it had been a mere nuisance. “Next!”

The next wave was more coordinated. A group of three curses, each one larger than the last, moved in unison, their movements jagged and erratic, making them harder to predict.

But Maki was ready. She spun her spear with deadly grace, knocking one of them back with a powerful thrust, while her other hand reached out to grab another, throwing it to the ground with expert ease.
As I finished off another curse, I wiped the sweat from my brow.

We had dealt with several more curses, each more dangerous than the last, but still, nothing had tested us like we knew the real battle would. I glanced over at Maki and Nobara, both of them breathing heavily, but still holding their ground with impressive skill.

I could feel the tension building in my chest. It wasn’t just the curses that were testing us today, it was the constant awareness that something bigger, something far more dangerous, was waiting ahead.
And then, the air seemed to shift.

The temperature dropped, and the cursed energy around us grew thicker. The familiar smell of decay and death became overwhelming, and I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

As the air shifted and the cursed energy grew heavier around you, a tense silence fell over your group. The sudden change wasn’t subtle. It was like the forest itself was holding its breath, waiting for something, waiting for them. The temperature had dropped drastically, and the scent of decay hung thick in the air, a pungent, cloying stench that was as unnatural as it was suffocating.

Maki stopped in her tracks, her spear held loosely in her hand as she scanned the surroundings with sharp eyes. Nobara’s grip tightened on her hammer, her nails already at the ready. Toge, usually quiet and reserved, stepped closer, his eyes darting back and forth, his hands forming the silent motions of his cursed speech. Even Toji, who had been walking a few steps behind, paused, his usual nonchalance gone, replaced by the cold, calculating focus that made him so dangerous.

I felt it too, the weight of the atmosphere pressing down on me, and I instinctively shifted my stance, my hand resting on the hilt of my katana. My breath seemed to freeze in my chest, and my pulse quickened. I had faced curses before, but something about this felt different, this wasn’t just a fight.

This was something far worse. It was as though the forest itself was alive with a hunger, a deep, gnawing instinct that could feel the blood of those who dared trespass.

"We're not alone," Maki muttered, her voice low and controlled, but there was an edge to it.
Before anyone could respond, the first of them appeared.

It wasn’t a low-level curse like the others they had fought. This one was something different, larger, more imposing, its cursed energy rippling around it like a black fog. It was a grotesque figure, standing nearly ten feet tall, its body contorted into a disturbing shape.

It was humanoid in appearance but disjointed, its arms too long and twisted, its legs bent at unnatural angles. Its head was little more than a mass of tendrils that writhed and snapped in all directions. Eyes, too many eyes, blinked in grotesque unison all over its skin, each one watching them with an unnatural, predatory hunger.

The curse let out a low, guttural growl, and then it lunged.

Instinctively, Maki raised her spear, meeting the creature’s charge head-on. There was a resounding crash as their two forces collided, the sound of bone and steel grinding together echoing in the stillness. Maki’s spear flashed as she twisted it, using her speed and strength to strike, but the creature was fast and its form twisted in ways that made it almost impossible to predict. The tips of its tendrils snapped toward her like whips, each one aiming for a different part of her body.

She danced backward, her spear spinning through the air in a defensive maneuver that forced the creature back for a moment, but it was clear it wasn’t going to be an easy fight. The creature’s speed was unsettling, and the cursed energy it radiated made the air around them feel thick, almost suffocating.

“Don’t get caught off guard!” Maki yelled, her voice cutting through the chaos.

The creature’s tendrils swung toward her again, this time with greater force. She ducked, narrowly avoiding a strike, and then countered with a vicious thrust of her spear toward its exposed side.

The blow landed, but the creature didn’t react as expected. Its body contorted further, shifting around the spear like it wasn’t even there, and it snapped its tendrils back with a renewed ferocity.

“Not good,” Maki muttered, her eyes narrowing. She was already calculating her next move, but it was clear this curse wasn’t going to be defeated easily.

Nobara stepped forward, her eyes flashing with determination. “Let me handle this.” She raised one of her nails high into the air, already preparing to launch it.

“Stay back, Nobara!” Maki warned, but it was too late. Nobara had already made her move.
With a flick of her wrist, a nail shot out from her fingers, spinning through the air toward the creature.

The nail lodged itself deep into the curse’s exposed chest, but the creature didn’t flinch. Instead, it let out a guttural scream and lunged toward Nobara with unnatural speed.

Before Nobara could react, the creature was upon her, its tendrils snapping like whips, aiming for her face and torso. She barely had time to react, pulling out another nail and throwing it in a desperate attempt to defend herself.

“Watch out!” I shouted, rushing forward as the curse’s tendrils slammed into the ground where she had just been standing.

It wasn’t just a physical attack, it was a brutal, overwhelming surge of cursed energy that made the air around us crackle.
I didn’t think. I couldn’t afford to.

With a swift motion, I drew my katana and charged at the creature from the side, aiming for its exposed ribs.

The blade cut through the air, but before I could land a solid hit, one of the creature’s tendrils slammed into me, sending me crashing backward into a nearby tree. The force was staggering, and for a moment, my vision blurred.

"Get up!" Maki’s voice snapped me out of my daze. I could hear the urgency in her voice, the desperation for us to hold it together.

I pushed myself to my feet, my body aching, but the battle was far from over.
Toji, who had been standing by with that same detached look on his face, finally moved. He didn’t rush into the fight.

No, he wasn’t the type to charge in recklessly. Instead, he closed the distance with a quiet intensity, his every movement deliberate. He observed the creature, watching how it shifted, waiting for an opening.

Without warning, Toji lunged forward with startling speed, his movements fluid and precise. He didn’t wield a weapon, but his cursed energy was like a storm, overwhelming and unstoppable. His fist met the creature’s side with a sound like a cannon shot, and the curse staggered, its form collapsing slightly under the force of the impact.

But the creature wasn’t finished. It twisted its body, bringing its tendrils down toward Toji in a sudden strike. He sidestepped effortlessly, his eyes cold and calculating as he waited for the next move. With a twist of his body, he landed another devastating blow, this time to the creature’s head. The sound was sickening, and for a moment, the creature’s tendrils froze mid-swing.

Then, with a final, guttural roar, the curse collapsed. Its body convulsed before it disintegrated into a cloud of dark, cursed energy, evaporating into the air like smoke.

The team stood in a tense silence, all of us panting from the exertion. The air was still thick with cursed energy, but the immediate danger had passed.

“That was too close,” Maki muttered, wiping her brow. “It wasn’t just a low-level curse.”

“No kidding,” Nobara said, still catching her breath. “That thing almost had me. I thought it was going to tear me apart.”

Toge remained silent as always, his gaze flicking between the group and the dissipating cursed energy. His face betrayed nothing, but the tension in the air had everyone on edge.

Toji, meanwhile, had already turned away, his indifference a sharp contrast to the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. “You’re all too soft,” he muttered, his voice flat, as if the fight had been no more than an inconvenience.

Maki didn’t respond to him. Instead, she turned to face the group. “Keep moving. This wasn’t the only one. There’s more out there. And it won’t stop until we’re all dead.”

The forest suddenly felt more oppressive, the weight of what they were up against heavier than before. The cursed energy still lingered in the air, like a fog that wouldn’t lift, and as we continued on, it was clear that the real battle had only just begun.

I tightened my grip on my katana, the weight of the blade familiar in my hands, and advanced deeper into the woods. The sound of my footsteps was muffled by the thick foliage underfoot, but I still felt exposed. My eyes darted between the trees, looking for any sign of movement.

Then, I felt it.

A shift in the air, a surge of cursed energy that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

I froze, instinctively crouching low, my breath held in my chest. My fingers tightened around the hilt of my katana, my body still as I waited for whatever was coming.

A dark, shadowy figure emerged from the thicket, moving with unnatural grace. Its body was a grotesque amalgamation of twisted limbs, and its eyes glowed a bright, unsettling yellow. The creature’s sharp claws clicked against the ground as it moved closer, drawn to the cursed energy that I couldn’t hide.

The curse was no mere rank-and-file monster. I could feel its malevolent energy coiling around it, an overwhelming presence that made the air crackle with hostility. This wasn’t a weak curse. This was something dangerous.

I didn’t hesitate.

My katana flashed in the low light as I rushed forward, my body already moving with the calculated speed I’d trained for.

The curse lunged, its claws swiping through the air toward me with a vicious speed that almost caught me off guard. But I was faster. I ducked low, just beneath its outstretched claws, and thrust my katana upward, aiming for its chest.

The sword struck true, cutting through the creature’s dark, thick skin. But instead of the expected resistance, the blade met a strange, wet resistance, almost as if the curse’s body was made of liquid shadow.

The creature shrieked in pain, but to my horror, the wound didn’t seem to slow it down. The curse let out a screech, its claws slashing down toward me in a rapid, chaotic movement.

I barely managed to sidestep, feeling the razor-sharp claws brush my skin. The pain was immediate, but I pushed it down. I couldn’t afford to think about it right now. There was no time for hesitation.

The creature was relentless. Each swipe of its claws, each bellowing roar, was a test of my agility and focus. I had to stay one step ahead or I would be torn apart.

I took another swing, aiming for its leg, but it was already shifting its weight, dodging the strike with an agility that belied its grotesque form. The curse retaliated immediately, snapping its jaws in a vicious bite.

I barely managed to avoid it, but the creature was fast, too fast. Its tail lashed out, catching me off guard and sending me sprawling to the ground. My katana slipped from my grasp, sliding a few feet away. The curse’s eyes locked onto me as I struggled to get back to my feet, its jaws dripping with anticipation.

Before I could make a move, the ground beneath us trembled.

At first, I thought it was just the force of our battle, but then the tremors grew stronger. The trees around us shook, their trunks bending and creaking under some unseen pressure. A low, rumbling sound came from the distance, an ominous, gut-wrenching noise that sent a chill through my spine.

The curse seemed to sense it, too. It stopped in its tracks, its head swiveling toward the source of the sound, eyes wide and fearful.

And then, it appeared.

The sky seemed to split open above us as a vast, dark veil descended, enveloping everything in its path. The cursed energy radiating from it was unlike anything I had ever encountered, dense, suffocating, and almost impossible to comprehend.

The veil spread quickly, swallowing the trees, the air, and everything in between. The curse before me howled in fear, but it was too late. The creature was drawn into the massive veil, its body crumpling under the overwhelming force of the cursed energy.

I gasped, stumbling back, trying to catch my breath as the darkness consumed the space around me. My heart raced, my thoughts scattered.

I couldn’t see. I couldn’t hear. The only thing I could feel was the presence of something, something massive, closing in on me from all sides.
And then, it spoke.

A voice, distorted by the veil, echoed through the darkness. It wasn’t loud, but it was everywhere, like it was inside my head, inside my bones.

“You are too weak to survive this,” the voice said, its tone cold and mocking. “You should have stayed out of my way.”

My blood ran cold as the cursed energy around me pulsed with a life of its own. I didn’t need to see to know what was happening. Whatever had created this veil, whatever force had unleashed it, was far beyond anything I could handle alone.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. The pressure in the air grew heavier, each second more suffocating than the last. I had to fight. I couldn’t let fear paralyze me now.

I slowly reached down, my fingers brushing against the hilt of my katana. The cursed energy that had wrapped itself around the blade was still there, still alive, and it gave me a sense of purpose, a sense of clarity.

Something huge loomed just beyond the veil, its silhouette dark and intimidating. The cursed energy was pulsating around it, and I could feel its weight, its presence, every bit of it pressing against me, threatening to crush me.

And then, I saw it.

A massive shape emerged from the depths of the veil, its form like a twisted, grotesque version of a human. Its skin was pale, stretched taut across its bones, and its eyes were wide and empty, glowing with the same sickly yellow light that had marked the previous curse.

But this creature was different. It was massive, easily towering over me by a good ten feet, its limbs long and unnaturally thin. Its fingers ended in jagged claws, and its mouth split open wide, revealing rows of sharp teeth that glistened in the darkness.

This was no ordinary curse. This was a special-grade curse. And it was far beyond anything I had ever fought.

I tightened my grip on my katana, my mind racing as I assessed my options. There was no way I could take this thing head-on, not without backup. But I had no choice. The veil was closing in, and if I didn’t act quickly, I’d be trapped in this nightmare with that thing forever.

I rushed forward, using the cursed energy in my blade to propel myself toward the monster. The special-grade curse lunged, its claws swiping through the air in a blur of motion. I dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the deadly strike, but its second swipe caught me off guard.

It slashed across my arm, sending pain coursing through my body. I bit back a scream, but I couldn’t let it distract me.

I swung my katana, aiming for its exposed side, but the curse was too fast. It twisted its body, dodging my attack and slamming its tail into my stomach. The force of the blow sent me flying back, my vision momentarily going black.

I slammed into the ground, pain radiating through every inch of my body. I could barely catch my breath, my chest heaving as I tried to push myself up. My katana was a few feet away, and I knew I had to get to it. If I didn’t, I was done.

The special-grade curse let out a roar, its voice a twisted cacophony of rage and hunger. It turned toward me, its eyes glowing brighter, its body tensing for the next strike.

I had no choice. I had to fight, or I was going to die here, alone.

My mind raced. I couldn’t afford to waste any more time. The veil was closed, the cursed energy around me growing denser by the second. Every second I hesitated was another second the monster had to strike. I needed to get my bearings. I needed to stay calm.

I pushed myself up off the ground, my stomach aching where the monster’s tail had slammed into me. My arm throbbed from the earlier scratch, but it wasn’t deep enough to slow me down. Not yet, anyway. I focused on the pain, let it ground me. It kept me from panicking, from losing control.

The special-grade curse was now only a few paces away, its clawed feet digging into the ground as it stalked toward me. Its body was unnaturally thin, like a human’s frame stretched to its breaking point. The skin on its arms and legs was pale and almost translucent, veins pulsing beneath the surface like snakes slithering just under its skin. Its eyes glowed a sickly yellow, like two burning lanterns in the darkness, watching me with malicious intent.

It stopped just a few feet away, its mouth splitting open wider, revealing row after row of jagged, sharp teeth that glistened in the dark. The stench of decay and death filled the air, making my stomach churn. This wasn’t just any curse. This was something ancient, something driven by pure malice. Its entire being radiated hostility, and it was clear that it didn’t see me as a threat, it saw me as prey.

I could feel the ground beneath me rumbling as the curse tensed, preparing to strike again. I tightened my grip on my katana. The blade had absorbed some of the cursed energy around it during the battle with the first curse, and now it hummed in my hand, a slight buzz of power running through the steel. I needed that power.

I didn’t have much of a chance to think about strategy. The curse lunged at me with terrifying speed, its massive claws swiping through the air in a blur. I barely managed to dodge, throwing myself to the side as its claws raked through the air where I had just been standing. The force of the swipe left a deep gouge in the ground where my feet had been a moment before.

I didn’t have time to recover. I swung my katana at the curse’s exposed side, aiming for a spot where I could land a solid hit. The blade cut through the air, but the curse was already moving, twisting its body and evading the strike. It snapped its jaws at me, missing by mere inches, the stench of its breath making my skin crawl. I took another step back, trying to get some distance between us. I needed space to think.

The creature’s speed was unnerving. Despite its size, it moved with unnatural fluidity, its long limbs stretching and retracting like they were made of rubber. It was like trying to fight a shadow, something that couldn’t be pinned down.
But I wasn’t giving up. Not yet.

I steadied my breathing, focusing on the cursed energy that flowed through my veins, feeling it thrum inside me. This wasn’t a fight I could win on reflex alone. I had to think, had to anticipate its next move. The special-grade curse wasn’t just powerful, it was intelligent. It wasn’t like the weaker curses I’d faced before, the ones that relied purely on instinct. No, this one was calculating, and that made it dangerous.

The curse lunged again, faster this time, its claws aimed directly at my chest. I barely managed to sidestep, but the edge of its claws still grazed my side. Pain shot through me, but I ignored it, using the momentum of the dodge to pivot and strike again. My katana met its skin, but the blade barely made a dent. It wasn’t enough. The curse didn’t seem to care about the minor wound, it just kept coming.

I didn’t have much time.

I felt the cursed energy in the air shifting again. The veil was closing in tighter, the cursed energy becoming denser, heavier, like the very atmosphere was closing in on me.

I could feel the pull of it now, a weight pressing down on my chest. The curse in front of me was only a distraction. The real danger was the veil itself.

I couldn’t keep dodging forever. Sooner or later, the monster would land a blow that would break through my defenses.

No. I needed to finish this.

I took a step back, feeling my feet dig into the ground as I planted myself firmly. My katana hummed in my grip, the cursed energy around me flaring up in response. I closed my eyes for a moment, centering myself, focusing only on the sound of my heartbeat, the feel of the energy inside me.

There was no time to think of anything else.
The curse let out a guttural roar, its claws slashing down at me again, a blur of motion too fast for the human eye to follow. I waited, feeling the wind shift as it moved. My body was already in motion before it even reached me. I pivoted to the side, ducking beneath its swing and bringing my katana up in a clean arc.

The blade met flesh.

This time, there was resistance. The cursed energy that had been swirling around the creature’s body had slowed its movements just enough for me to land a hit. I pushed the blade deeper, feeling it cut through the tough, translucent skin.

The curse screeched, but I didn’t stop. I twisted the katana, driving it further into the creature’s body, until it finally let out one final, agonized howl and collapsed to the ground, its form disintegrating into a cloud of cursed energy that dissolved into the air.
For a moment, all was silent.

But I didn’t let my guard down. The veil was still there, and I could feel its presence, pressing down on me from all sides. I wasn’t safe yet.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead, ignoring the sting of the cuts on my arms and side. The adrenaline was still rushing through me, making every movement feel sharp, every breath feel more important than the last. I couldn’t afford to slow down. I had to keep moving.

The veil had trapped me in a cage of cursed energy, and I knew that whatever was on the other side would be even worse than the creature I had just defeated.

I stepped forward cautiously, my senses on high alert. The cursed energy around me had thickened, and I could feel something else coming. Something worse. Something I wasn’t prepared for.

Suddenly, the air shifted again. A sharp, crackling sound filled the air, followed by a deep, guttural growl that sent chills down my spine. Something massive was moving, its cursed energy crashing into the atmosphere like a tidal wave.

I looked up, and there it was.

A hulking shape emerged from the veil, its silhouette dark against the swirling cursed energy. It was a beast of pure nightmare, its body an amalgamation of shadow and twisted flesh.

Its limbs were massive and thick, ending in claws as long as swords. Its head was enormous, with eyes that glowed a sickly green. The cursed energy radiating off it was suffocating, nearly overwhelming.

This was no ordinary special-grade curse. This was a monster born from pure malice, a creature forged in the depths of hell itself.

I didn’t know if I was ready to face it, but I didn’t have a choice. It was too late to back down now.
I raised my katana, feeling the cursed energy in my hands hum with power, and stepped forward. There was no turning back.

The beast moved first, swinging one of its massive arms toward me in a deadly arc. The wind that followed it almost knocked me off my feet. I barely managed to sidestep in time, the air around me feeling thick with the force of its movement.

I struck, aiming for its leg where I thought the weakest spot might be. But my katana barely cut through the cursed energy that enveloped its skin.

It was like trying to slice through stone. The creature growled in annoyance and swung its arm again, this time aiming at my head. I ducked just in time, the massive claws passing inches above me.
I had to move faster. I had to find a way to break through.

I jumped back, creating some distance between us. My body ached, and I could feel the blood dripping from the cuts on my side, but I ignored it. I was alive. I was still in this fight.

I had to think.

With every movement, the special-grade curse seemed to grow stronger, more relentless. Its cursed energy kept spiking, surging with a power that made the ground shake beneath us. The veil seemed to be feeding it, amplifying its strength.
I couldn’t keep dodging forever. I couldn’t keep trying to hack through its skin. I needed to find its weakness.

I focused. The cursed energy in the air seemed to pulse with a pattern. It wasn’t random. There was a rhythm to it, something I could feel. I watched the creature’s movements closely, trying to predict its next strike.

The moment it swung again, I was ready. I ducked beneath its arm, sliding to the side and then striking upward. This time, my katana found its mark, slicing deep into the creature’s side. It screamed, a high-pitched, wailing sound that pierced the air.
The cursed energy around it flared up violently, but I didn’t back down. I pressed the attack, striking again and again, each blow landing with more force, carving deeper into the creature’s cursed flesh.

It staggered, then collapsed onto its knees, roaring in pain. The cursed energy around it began to dissipate, its massive body starting to crumble away.

The creature’s form began to disintegrate, its cursed energy leaking into the atmosphere in violent bursts, but I didn’t let my guard down. Every muscle in my body screamed for rest, my cuts and bruises threatening to cripple me, but I couldn’t afford to stop now.

I could feel it, the presence of more curses lurking nearby, hidden in the thickening veil. This battle wasn’t over. It was just beginning.

The cursed energy around me thickened once more, the oppressive weight of it bearing down harder, pressing against my lungs as though the very air had turned into a tangible, suffocating substance.

I forced myself to breathe, slow and steady, but the tension in my body never eased. My eyes scanned the surroundings, looking for any sign of movement, but the forest was unnervingly still. It was almost like the air itself was holding its breath, waiting.

Then, without warning, the trees around me rustled. The veil was shifting again, its edges distorting and expanding, its cursed energy surging in waves that made the ground tremble beneath my feet.

I couldn’t see them yet, but I knew they were coming. The curses, more of them, probably more special-grade, were closing in, their cursed energy flaring brighter and more dangerously with every passing second.

I steadied myself, focusing on the hilt of my katana. The weapon felt heavier in my hands, but it was more than just weight; it was the energy coursing through it. I could feel the connection, the bond between me and the blade, amplifying the cursed energy around me. My focus sharpened as the air seemed to hum, resonating with the charged atmosphere.

I wasn’t sure how long I could keep fighting, but I knew I couldn’t afford to hesitate.
The rustling grew louder, closer. And then they emerged from the shadows.

Two curses, both massive, with twisted, unnatural forms. The first one was a hulking beast, its body thick with muscle, its skin slick and black, almost like an insect’s carapace. Its six arms were equally long and twisted, each ending in jagged claws that scratched against the air, leaving a trail of distorted cursed energy in their wake. Its head was a grotesque, featureless mass, a smooth surface that reflected nothing but darkness.

The second curse was smaller but faster, its limbs thin and spindly, its body contorted in a way that made it look more like a spider than a human. Its eyes were wide, bulging out of its face, as though it had no intention of ever blinking. The cursed energy radiating off it was sharp, aggressive, and cutting through the air like blades.

I barely had time to react before the first curse lunged at me, its six arms reaching out in a blur of motion. I barely managed to sidestep, feeling the force of its swing as one of its claws scraped across my shoulder. The pain was immediate, a sharp sting that made my blood run cold, but I couldn’t afford to show weakness. Not now.

I struck, my katana slicing toward the creature’s exposed side. It barely flinched as my blade met its thick hide. The curse’s skin was tougher than steel, as though it had been forged in the depths of the earth itself. I needed to find a weak point, something I could exploit.

The creature snarled, swinging its arms again, and this time I couldn’t dodge in time. One of its claws scraped across my abdomen, tearing through fabric and flesh alike. I gritted my teeth against the pain, using the momentum to twist around, narrowly avoiding a fatal blow to my head.

I saw the second curse coming at me in my peripheral vision, its limbs stretching unnaturally long. I barely had time to react before it lunged, its arms reaching for my neck. Instinctively, I ducked, the creature’s claws slashing over my head. It wasn’t fast enough. I swung my katana up, meeting its arm with a clean strike.

The cursed energy that surged from the blade crackled as the katana connected with the creature's arm, cutting through its thin, fragile skin. The curse screeched, jerking back, its limbs flailing wildly. But it wasn’t finished. It was still too fast.

I kept moving, my feet light on the ground, darting and dodging between the two curses. I couldn’t keep fighting them both at the same time, not without a plan. I needed to separate them, find a way to take one down before I turned my focus on the other. The cursed energy surrounding us kept intensifying, making every step feel heavier, as though the very ground was pushing against me.
The large curse let out a guttural roar, swinging its six arms down in a wide arc. I leapt to the side just in time, the claws grazing the edge of my armor. I was getting slower, exhaustion was setting in. But there was no time to rest. I needed to finish this quickly.

I took another breath, forcing myself to calm. The energy of the fight was starting to surge within me. I reached deep inside, tapping into the cursed energy that had been swirling within me since the start of the battle. I let it fill my senses, flood my veins, and suddenly I was aware of every small shift in the environment, the rustling of the trees, the vibrations in the air, the faintest changes in the energy around me. I could feel the cursed energy of the monsters, too. Their movements were now more predictable.

I made my move.

I darted toward the large curse first, moving fast despite the growing fatigue. Its claws swung down at me again, but this time, I was ready. I leaped into the air, twisting my body mid-flight, narrowly avoiding the swipe.

As I descended, I brought my katana down, the blade cutting through the creature’s arm with a clean, practiced motion. The creature howled in pain, stumbling back, its limbs flailing as it tried to regain balance. It was vulnerable now.

Without hesitation, I pressed the attack. I moved faster than before, the cursed energy around me sharpening my focus. I ducked under one of its wild swings, spinning around to its back. I slashed again, this time cutting deep into the joint of its arm. The curse bellowed, but I didn’t stop. I kept going, moving fluidly from one strike to the next, wearing down its defense.

The curse staggered once more, its body faltering as the cursed energy within it began to lose its strength. I drove the katana through its side, the blade sliding between two of its ribs. The curse screamed as it collapsed, its massive body crumpling to the ground with a resounding thud.
One down.

But there was no time to celebrate. The second curse, the faster one, was already charging at me, its limbs extending to grab me once more. It was relentless.

The creature lunged forward again, its claws extended, its grotesque, malformed body twisting unnaturally as it charged. I barely managed to bring my katana up in time, the blade catching the curse’s arm as it swung down with deadly force. The impact reverberated through my arms, my hands trembling from the sheer force of the strike.

I was already off balance, the exhaustion from the earlier blows weighing heavily on me. The curse was relentless, a savage force of nature, and each strike it delivered felt like it could be my last. I barely had a moment to breathe before it was upon me again, its claws raking through the air, seeking my flesh.

I twisted to the side, narrowly avoiding the deadly swipe, but the edge of its claw grazed my arm, tearing through the fabric of my uniform and drawing blood. Pain shot up my arm, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. My body was already moving, reacting on instinct as I stepped forward, driving my katana toward the creature’s exposed side.

The blade sank in, cutting deep into its flesh, and for a brief moment, I thought I had it. But the curse let out an ear-piercing screech and jerked away, its body writhing with unnatural speed. The wound I’d inflicted closed up almost instantly, its cursed energy repairing the damage faster than I could react.

It was impossible. Every strike I landed seemed to have no lasting effect. The curse’s body healed itself, its monstrous form impervious to the damage.
I took a step back, blood dripping from my side, my breath coming in sharp gasps. The curse wasn’t letting up, it was getting more aggressive, more relentless with every passing moment.

My grip on the katana tightened as I steadied myself, trying to push through the pain, trying to find a way to win.

The curse came at me again, faster this time, its claws aiming for my throat. I barely managed to sidestep, feeling the wind from its strike as it sailed past me. But the curse wasn’t done. It swung again, this time catching me across the chest. My heart skipped a beat as I felt the claws tear through the fabric of my uniform and into my flesh.

Pain exploded across my torso, my vision blurring for a moment as I stumbled back, barely managing to stay upright. Blood pooled beneath me, and I could feel it seeping through my clothes, sticking to my skin as it flowed from the deep gouges in my chest.

I couldn’t keep up with its speed. I couldn’t outrun it. The curse’s cursed energy was overwhelming, suffocating the very air around us. My legs felt like lead, and my arms were growing heavier by the second. Every movement felt sluggish, forced. I was running on fumes.

But I couldn’t stop. Not yet.

I surged forward, summoning what little strength I had left, and slashed wildly with my katana. The blade found its mark again, cutting deep into the curse’s shoulder. But once again, it didn’t matter. The wound began to heal almost immediately, the curse’s cursed energy working to repair itself, its grotesque body shifting and contorting to compensate for the damage.

I could feel my body growing weaker with each passing moment, my vision growing hazy at the edges. The curse was still coming, still relentless. I had to do something. Anything.

The curse lunged again, and this time, I wasn’t fast enough to dodge.

Its claws sunk into my side, and a scream tore from my throat as I was slammed into the ground. The force of the impact rattled my bones, and I gasped for air, the blood pouring from the wound in my side as the curse’s claws remained buried in my flesh. The pain was unbearable, but somehow, I managed to twist, pulling my katana from the ground beside me, and thrusting it upward.

The blade slid into the curse’s abdomen, the cursed energy that clung to its body flaring as I forced the katana deeper. The creature let out a guttural roar, but this time, the wound didn’t heal immediately. It was slowing down. I could feel it. The curse was weakening, and I was too, my vision was growing dim, my body barely able to respond to my commands.

I didn’t have much left, but I wasn’t going to let this thing win.

With a desperate cry, I shoved the katana forward with all the strength I had left. The blade pierced the creature’s core, and the curse let out one final, deafening scream as its body collapsed in on itself, its cursed energy dissipating into the air.

For a moment, there was silence.

I lay there, panting, blood dripping from my wounds, my katana still embedded in the creature’s body. The forest around me was eerily still, the weight of the battle sinking in. I had won, but at what cost?

I tried to push myself up, but my body wouldn’t respond. My arms were too weak to hold me, my legs too heavy to move. I felt myself slipping, my vision swimming in and out as the darkness crept closer. The pain was a distant thing now, just a numb presence in the background as everything faded into black.

I couldn’t die here. I couldn’t.

But before I could do anything more, before I could call for help, I heard something else. A shift in the air. The ground trembled beneath me, and a cold shiver ran up my spine. The cursed energy in the air thickened, oppressive and suffocating.

The pain was unbearable. It felt like every breath was a struggle, each inhalation a sharp reminder of how badly I was wounded. My chest ached with each pulse, the raw gashes across it still oozing blood that soaked into my uniform.

But I couldn’t move. My limbs felt too heavy, and the world around me seemed to warp and shift, everything spinning out of focus. I tried to call out, to get someone’s attention, but my voice barely left my throat, rasping and weak.

I must have lost consciousness for a moment, because when I opened my eyes again, everything was quieter. The sounds of the forest, the chirping of birds, the rustle of leaves, were muted, almost nonexistent.

Only the soft sound of my own breathing remained. The ground beneath me was cool, but there was no comfort in it. I could feel the sticky warmth of blood pooling beneath me, seeping into the earth.

The pain was no longer sharp. It had sunk in deep, settled like a weight under my skin, dull and suffocating.

My limbs were locked, trembling faintly as if even the smallest motion might shatter them. I felt cold now. Not from the air, but from the blood loss, from the way my body had started to give up, prioritizing what little strength I had left for keeping my heart beating.

I tried to lift my head again. It barely twitched.
The wet press of the forest floor against my cheek was the only thing grounding me. My breaths came shallow, hitching around every ragged inhale. My chest felt crushed. Not just from the impact, though I could feel broken ribs shifting beneath torn muscle, but from the weight of everything. I was slowing down. Slipping.

Footsteps approached, crunching through loose debris, snapping branches that hadn’t even registered to me before. They stopped just beside me, and then a shadow fell across my back. I didn’t need to look. I knew who it was.

Toji.

His presence cut through the fog, solid and heavy. He didn’t speak at first. Didn’t crouch or call my name. He just stood there. I could feel his gaze on me, cold, assessing. Like he was trying to decide how bad it was before he moved.

Then he knelt.

I felt his hand on my shoulder. Not gentle, not soft, but steady. His grip anchored me, kept me from fading too far.

“You’re a mess,” he muttered under his breath. There was no venom in it. Just fact. Maybe frustration.

I couldn’t answer. My mouth was too dry. My throat too raw. I gave the smallest shake of my head, or maybe my body just twitched again. I didn’t know.
Toji’s hand moved. He slid it under my arm carefully, feeling for the worst of the damage.

When his fingers brushed my side, I flinched, every nerve firing at once. The pain was so sudden and blinding I almost vomited.

“Shit,” he hissed. His voice was low, tight now. “You’re bleeding through your damn stomach.”

He said it like he wasn’t surprised, like he expected this kind of recklessness from me. Maybe he did. Maybe he was right to.

I tried to lift my hand, maybe to push myself up, maybe just to show I was still conscious. My fingers barely scraped the ground. Useless.

“Don’t move,” he said sharply, catching my wrist before it could fall again. His hand wrapped around it, warm and calloused and unyielding. “You’ll make it worse.”

I knew that. I felt that. But lying still felt worse somehow. It felt like giving in.

Everything inside me hurt. My ribs were broken. My side was a mess. My uniform was soaked through, sticking to my skin in cold patches where blood had pooled and dried.

I could feel something pulsing behind my right eye, like my body was struggling just to stay awake, to keep track of pain signals.

Toji shifted beside me again. I heard the click of his teeth, the scrape of his fingers against his belt. Then something cool pressed to my side, cloth, torn from somewhere. He was trying to stem the bleeding.

“You didn’t even finish binding your ribs before you ran in,” he muttered. His hands worked quickly, firmly, wrapping pressure around the wound as best he could. “Idiot.”

I made a noise. I wasn’t sure what it was, breath, pain, maybe both.

“You should’ve waited,” he said. He wasn’t looking at me anymore. “You weren’t ready for both of them.”

I wanted to argue.

Wanted to say that I had to. That I couldn’t let the curses roam free while we were separated.

That I’d had a plan, even if it went to hell halfway through. But none of that mattered now. All I could do was stare up at the sky through the broken canopy above, blinking slowly as it swirled in and out of focus.

Toji’s hand pressed the cloth tighter against my side. I grunted, jaw tightening as another wave of pain spread out from the wound.

He looked down at me again, eyes scanning what was left of me, bloodied, limp, barely there. His mouth pressed into a thin line, unreadable.

“Don’t pass out,” he said flatly. “You’ll choke on your own blood.”

He hooked an arm under my back, not careful, but controlled. Enough to lift me without snapping anything else loose. My body screamed. I didn’t. I couldn’t. My head lolled forward, resting against his shoulder for a second before falling back again, too heavy to hold up.

He adjusted his grip, steadying me with one hand and reaching for something else with the other.
Each step he took rattled through me like an earthquake.

Toji had one arm locked around my back, the other hooked under my knees. I wasn’t walking, couldn’t. My body was wrecked, unresponsive. I’d lost track of how many times I’d blacked out and clawed my way back to the surface.

Breathing felt like punishment. Every inhale was shallow and brittle, scraping against something torn inside me. My ribs didn’t expand properly. My chest felt caved in, heavy like a weight was pressing down on it.

I couldn’t stop shaking.

It wasn’t the cold. It was deeper than that, some primal, involuntary thing. My nerves were fried, twitching uncontrollably under my skin. My hands spasmed open and closed without meaning to. My legs twitched once, then fell limp again, too numb to respond.

Pain laced everything.

The wound in my side pulsed like it had its own heartbeat. Blood was soaking through whatever cloth he’d tied around it, warm and sticky against my uniform, already cooling against the wind.

I couldn’t even tell if it hurt more when he moved or when he stopped. My head was slumped forward against his shoulder, the world swimming in and out of focus behind my eyelids.

My body didn’t know what it wanted anymore, if it wanted to live, to stop, to give in.
Toji’s grip didn’t waver.

“You’re not walking,” he muttered under his breath, eyes locked ahead, unreadable. “You’re not even staying conscious.”

I tried to move. Tried to answer. My tongue felt swollen, dry. All I managed was a low, rasping breath, and even that shook like a broken branch. My fingers twitched against his chest, catching in the torn fabric of his shirt.

Toji shifted his hold again. I didn’t think it was meant to comfort, but the weight of his arm pressed me closer to his body, kept my head from tipping too far back.

“Don’t make me carry a corpse,” he said, not with anger.

Just blunt certainty. Like he’d already decided I wasn’t allowed to die here.

My side screamed with every step he took.
The pressure of his arm there was keeping me together, literally.

The pain never dulled. I could feel the edges of the wound shifting with each motion, torn flesh straining, bleeding again.

The cloth was soaked through. Every heartbeat sent more blood spilling. My body kept convulsing with short, panicked spasms, like my nerves didn’t believe I was safe yet. Or maybe they knew I wasn’t.

I couldn’t breathe.

Air wouldn’t go deep enough. It caught in my throat, ragged and broken. My lungs stuttered and seized, useless. A wave of dizziness hit me so hard I almost vomited.

“Breathe,” Toji snapped suddenly, feeling it, feeling me go stiff in his arms.

I tried. Chest too tight. Inhale, shallow. Exhale, barely. I could feel my vision fraying again, the edges of the world softening into black static.

“To hell with this,” he muttered, and crouched low, lowering me back to the ground. The cold forest floor bit into my back through the soaked fabric. I writhed at the sudden shift, pain flaring like an explosion in my chest and side.

He caught my head before it hit the dirt, cradling it with a firm hand. “Slow down. Get air in, or you’ll choke on it.”

I focused, barely, on the feel of his breathing. Tried to match it. Inhale. Pain. Exhale. Short. Again. His voice was steady, even when mine was silent.

“Still breathing,” he muttered. “Barely. You should’ve waited.”

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. My jaw hung slack, teeth clenched tight against a scream that wouldn’t come. My whole body was shaking harder now.

Not from blood loss. From the cold aftershock of fear.

I’d thought I was going to die. I still wasn’t sure I wouldn’t.

Toji looked down at me, scanning the mess of blood and torn fabric and the way my chest stuttered when I tried to inhale. His jaw clenched once, but he didn’t say anything.

He just adjusted the pressure on the cloth at my side. My body jerked again.

“You’re lucky it didn’t hit your lung,” he said quietly, as if talking more to himself. “Close. Stupid close.”

Then, wordlessly, he gathered me back into his arms. Slower this time. His movements were precise, careful.

I was a ruined thing in his grip, bleeding and twitching and barely coherent.

He stood again, and the forest swayed around me.
Still shaking. Still shivering like something broken. My mind flickered to the fight, to the moment I felt the claws in my side, to the scream that tore out of me when I hit the ground.

My body remembered the helplessness. The weight of it. How it felt to bleed out with no control over anything but the will to keep going.

I didn’t speak. Not because I couldn’t, but because I didn’t want to hear how my voice sounded. Weak. Small. I didn’t want to say how much it hurt.

Toji didn’t press.
He just walked, quick and sure, not wasting a second. His shoulder was bleeding too. I could feel it, hot against my temple. A deep gash near his collarbone, half-dried. He hadn’t said a word about it. Hadn’t slowed.

And even now, with me half-dead in his arms, he never loosened his grip.

“Don’t sleep yet,” he muttered again, tone low. Grounded.

I could feel the shift in the air, the subtle change as the veil grew nearer. My eyelids fluttered again.

Everything was darkening, and the only thing I could cling to was the feeling of Toji’s grip. The heat of his chest. The steady pulse beneath my hand.

I could hear him, faintly, speaking to me again. The words were drowned out by the ringing in my ears, but I caught snippets: “Stay awake…” and, “Keep going, just a little longer…”

The moment we crossed the veil, everything stopped. The weight of my body, everything I’d been fighting against, finally hit the ground. I felt it in the sudden shift of motion, the way Toji’s arms dropped slightly, like they could finally release the tension.

His voice, though steady, cracked a little as he muttered something else under his breath. I couldn’t make it out.

I didn’t want to.

My body fell back into his arms. The pain didn’t go away, but it dulled, like I was finally able to let it all hit at once. I could feel the blood still soaking my clothes, still dripping from the wounds, but it didn’t matter anymore.

I was still conscious. And I was still alive.

The world was a blur. My body was heavy, like the weight of the air itself was pressing down on me.

Every inch of my skin felt foreign, as though my limbs weren’t quite my own, and my chest burned with every breath I managed to take.

But through the haze, there was something constant.

His presence was the only thing that didn’t fade in and out of focus. His hand, still gripping mine, was warm and steady, and his fingers twitched every few moments as if to check that I was still there, still breathing, still holding on.

But I couldn’t respond. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. All I could do was focus on the rise and fall of his chest, trying to match my breath with his, even though it felt impossible.

“Stay with me,” Toji’s voice broke through the fog again, though it wasn’t as rough this time. It was more like he was pleading with me.

I tried to respond, tried to force words past my lips, but the world kept spinning, and my head felt too heavy to lift. I could feel his fingers brushing against my face, checking for any sign that I was still with him, and I focused on that, trying to fight against the darkness creeping in.

Suddenly, the world shifted. The sound of footsteps, voices calling, the rustling of leaves… It all pierced through the fog like a sudden jolt. I could feel them before I saw them, the familiar weight of their presence. Maki, Nobara,…..and Toge.They were here. They were all around me.

“Shit,” Maki muttered as she crouched down beside me, her eyes scanning my injuries. “What happened to her?”

Toji didn’t move, didn’t take his eyes off me, but his jaw clenched. “She’s alive. That’s all I know right now.”

Maki shot him a look, her usual cool demeanor replaced with something close to concern. “We’ll get her out of here. Just don’t push yourself too hard.”

She looked around, assessing the surroundings. “Nobara, you and Toge check the area. Make sure no one’s gonna come back for a round two.”

Nobara nodded and jogged off with Toge, leaving Maki to kneel beside Toji. She gave him a quick, sharp look. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he grunted, though I could hear the strain in his voice. “Just need to focus on getting her out of here.”

Maki didn’t argue. She gave me a final glance before rising to her feet and starting to lead the others away. Toji stayed with me, though, not once looking like he would let me go.

I could barely feel anything. My body, my limbs, all of it felt so far away, distant and detached. But I was still aware. Still here, just not fully present.

For a brief moment, I felt the flicker of awareness, enough to try and take a breath with him. It felt like I was fighting to draw air into my lungs, but I managed a shallow breath, and then another.

That was enough.

I could feel his hand gently adjusting my position, lifting my head just slightly, his touch steady as he began to move me. The world around me tilted again, but I could hear his voice, close and firm in my ear.

“Come on,” he muttered, more to himself than to me, his voice rough again. “You’re not fucking dying on me.”

I barely had the strength to stay conscious, but his words kept me tethered, kept me hanging on when everything inside me screamed for release. The pull of sleep was strong, but I fought it, just enough to stay present, to stay with him.

The others returned after a moment, their voices muffled at first as they neared. I could hear Maki’s sharp tone as she directed them to get ready.

“We need to get her to a hospital,” Maki said, her voice more commanding than concerned. “Now.”

“I got her,” Toji said immediately. I felt the shift in the air as he lifted me up, careful but quick, his strength evident as he adjusted me against him.

I didn’t even have the energy to wince as pain shot through my side. I just let myself fall into him, letting him carry me. I could feel the heat of his body, the steady rhythm of his movements as he moved, but all of it was muffled, distant.

I wasn’t sure how long we walked, or if I even walked at all. Toji was moving fast, his steps quick but calculated, each one firm, like he was determined to get me to safety.

The world around me felt like it was melting away again, but I clung to him, to his steady presence, like a life raft in the middle of a storm.

Everything was spinning, the edges of my vision darkening, but I could still hear him. His breathing was steady, and every few seconds, he would say something, words meant to reassure, to keep me tethered, even though I couldn’t respond.

“Almost there,” he muttered, his voice strained. “Just hang on.”

He didn’t speak much more after that. Maybe because I couldn’t respond. Maybe because there was nothing else to say. But his grip on me never wavered.

The hospital doors were a blur when we arrived. I couldn’t process anything beyond the fact that I was still with him, still alive, still breathing, even though I couldn’t be sure for how long. The doctors came rushing in, but Toji never let go.

He stayed by my side as they worked, like he was waiting for some kind of sign that I’d make it through.

But in that moment, I could only feel the dull ache of my injuries, the tight grip of his hand around mine, and the faint sound of his voice telling me, over and over:

“Stay with me.”

The sterile, bright lights of the hospital were blinding, but even through the haze of pain and exhaustion, I could hear the frantic movement around me.

Medical staff were rushing in, their voices muffled by the pounding in my ears. I couldn’t focus on any one thing, too much pain, too many people, too much happening all at once.

My head throbbed as though it might split open, and every breath felt like a battle I was losing. But still, Toji’s presence anchored me. His steady grip on my hand, the warmth of his fingers pressed against mine, was the only thing that kept the overwhelming sensation of darkness at bay.

They moved fast, but Toji was faster. He refused to let anyone take me without his presence. He stayed by my side, not stepping away even as they worked to stabilize me, not even when the doctors and nurses began issuing orders.

“Sir, we need space. We need to get her on the table,” one of the doctors said, but Toji’s grip on me tightened, his gaze darkening as he looked down at me.

“I’m not leaving her,” he said, his voice low but unyielding. “You’re not doing anything without me here.”

I couldn’t form words, couldn’t even think straight, but his words, his protective, almost possessive tone, carried through the fog in my mind. I felt something in the depths of me stir, something desperate to hold onto the lifeline he was offering.

The doctors exchanged looks, but Toji was firm. He wasn’t going anywhere. I felt him shift beside me, his hand still holding mine, and despite the pain, despite the constant pull of unconsciousness, I couldn’t bring myself to want him to let go. He was here. That’s all that mattered.

I could feel them working over me, their hands moving, pressing on my wounds, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. It was all a blur of sensations, pain, cold, the rush of air, the sting of antiseptic. But through it all, I could hear him, Toji, never straying far from my side.

“You’re not alone,” he said quietly again, his thumb brushing the back of my hand, a simple gesture, but one that anchored me in ways I couldn’t explain. “I’m right here.”

Time blurred in the hospital room, and I lost track of how long I was unconscious. But when I finally managed to regain a semblance of awareness, I was no longer lying on the cold, sterile bed of the hospital.

Toji was carrying me again, but this time, I wasn’t in the chaotic blur of medical staff and noise. I was in the quiet of his embrace, the steady rhythm of his steps carrying me.

It took me a moment to register what was happening. The exhaustion weighed heavily on me, but I could feel his strong arms beneath me, his grip so sure, as though he was carrying the world itself.
I wanted to speak.

I wanted to ask where we were going, if I was okay, if he was okay, but my body refused to respond. All I could do was rest against him, trying to steady my breath, trying to ignore the suffocating pain that still lingered in my side, my chest, my head. I was too tired to talk, too tired to move.

But I could hear him. He wasn’t speaking to anyone else, just me.

“You’re gonna be alright,” he murmured, his voice rough but soft, like he was trying to convince both of us. “Just hang on.”

I tried to focus on his voice, to hold onto it, but everything around me was a haze again. The sound of his heartbeat beneath my ear, the faint tension in his muscles as he carried me, and the steady rhythm of his steps were the only things that anchored me to the present.

He didn’t let me slip away. Every few steps, I could feel his fingers shift slightly, checking to see if I was still with him, if I was still breathing. His actions were steady and deliberate, like he was afraid that if he faltered, I might fall apart.

Eventually, he stopped moving. I couldn’t tell where we were, but I could feel the shift in the air, the subtle sense of change. Toji’s presence around me shifted too. I was placed on something soft, the pressure against my body gentle but purposeful. And then his hand was back, gripping mine with that same urgency.

“Stay with me,” he whispered again, this time with an almost imperceptible tremor in his voice.

I couldn’t reply, but I focused on his words. I focused on the strength in his grip, trying to give back even a fraction of the reassurance he was giving me.

I couldn’t tell if I was even responding, but I focused all my energy on staying awake, on staying here with him. I wasn’t alone.

The hospital room around me felt distant, a blur of lights and shadows, but his presence was everything. Even if I couldn’t hear what was happening, I could feel him, feel his worry, his protectiveness.

I could feel him holding me together when I was too broken to hold myself.

The next time I woke up, it wasn’t the same dark, suffocating room from before. The air smelled different, sterile and faintly medicinal. My head felt like it was filled with cotton, and my body was weighed down with a dull, aching throb that seemed to permeate every inch of my skin.

I blinked several times, trying to clear the fog in my vision, and when I finally managed to focus, I found myself in a new environment.

The walls were white, sterile, but there was a faint warmth to the room that made it feel less harsh. The steady beeping of machines, the faint hum of the hospital, all blended into the background as I tried to make sense of where I was.

But it didn’t take long before I felt the familiar weight on my hand, the constant, grounding pressure of someone’s touch. I turned my head slowly, my body protesting the movement, and there he was.

His face was angled down, his eyes closed, his posture slightly slouched, like he had been sitting there for a while. His hand was still wrapped around mine, his fingers loosely gripping it, as though he feared I might slip away if he didn’t hold on.
He didn’t stir at first.

I watched him for a long moment, trying to gauge his expression, the tiredness that clung to him. His hair was a mess, his clothes wrinkled, but there was something about the way he looked, exhausted, worn down, that made my heart ache.

I wanted to speak, wanted to say something to let him know I was still here, still alive, but my mouth felt dry, my throat too sore to even attempt it.
It wasn’t until I moved slightly, just enough to make a small noise, that he reacted. His eyes shot open, dark circles beneath them, but when he saw me looking at him, the relief that washed over his face was undeniable. His breath hitched slightly, but his gaze stayed steady, focused.

“You’re awake,” he said softly, almost like he didn’t believe it, his voice rough from a mixture of exhaustion and emotion. “God… you scared the hell out of me.”

I wanted to respond, but it was like I couldn’t form words. My mind was sluggish, each breath coming in shallow gasps. The pain still thrummed through me, though it wasn’t as intense as it had been before. I shifted, trying to speak, but Toji was already there, leaning forward and pressing a finger gently to my lips, stopping me.

“Don’t talk,” he said, his voice firm but gentle, his thumb brushing against my hand again in that soothing, repetitive motion. “You’ve been through a lot. Just… just rest for now.”

His words were like a comfort and a command all at once. I felt a slight burn in my throat, the overwhelming need to speak, but I couldn’t fight it. The exhaustion was creeping back in, and it was all I could do to keep my eyes open. It was a battle to stay conscious, each second feeling like an eternity as my mind flickered in and out.

Toji didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t let go of my hand, didn’t pull away, even when I drifted in and out of sleep. His presence was a steady anchor, a promise that he wouldn’t leave me. Every time I stirred, he was there, his gaze always watching me, always checking in.

The hours passed in a haze. I wasn’t sure when Maki and the others came in, but I knew they were there. Maki’s voice, always calm and steady, told me that I’d been unconscious for longer than I thought.

“You’re lucky,” she said, but her voice was softer than usual. “You came damn close to not making it.”

Nobara had come in too, her usual sharpness subdued by the sight of me lying in the hospital bed, too weak to even lift my head.

She’d stood by the door for a while, arms crossed, but I saw the flicker of relief in her eyes when she realized I was still breathing.

It wasn’t until later, when the drugs in my system had started to wear off, and I was more aware of my surroundings, that Toji finally moved from his place beside me.

He stood, stretching his back with a low groan, but his eyes never left me. He stepped toward the door, his posture tense, like he was about to leave. But just before he reached it, he glanced back at me.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said quietly. “Don’t go anywhere, alright?”

Even though the words were light, there was something deep in his tone, something raw that made me feel both comforted and unsettled at the same time.

I tried to respond, to assure him that I wasn’t going anywhere, but the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, I reached out as best as I could, my fingers brushing against the side of his wrist.

Toji paused for a moment, and I saw the flicker of something in his eyes, something that passed too quickly for me to fully grasp.

He let out a quiet sigh and walked back over, kneeling beside the bed again, taking my hand in his.

“Rest,” he said, his voice softer this time. “I’ll stay.”
It was all I needed to hear. As he settled back beside me, I closed my eyes again, too tired to do much more.

Toji’s presence beside me was like a lifeline, one that I clung to as I drifted in and out of sleep.

But even through the haze, through the
overwhelming fatigue, I knew one thing for certain: I wasn’t alone anymore. Toji wouldn’t let me slip away, not if he could help it. And as long as he was here, I was still fighting, still holding on.

Time passed, each day a slow progression as my body healed, but the memory of that moment, of being on the edge and having him there, was something that lingered in my mind.

Even though the pain was still there, and the exhaustion weighed heavy, there was something undeniably stronger within me. Something that kept me going.

Weeks had passed since the battle. The intense, near-fatal confrontation that had forced Toji and me to fight side by side, to survive together against curses that outmatched us in nearly every way, had faded into memory.

The aftermath, though, what we had shared in those quiet moments in the hospital, lingered. Toji had stayed by my side, offering silent support, his presence comforting in its own way. But despite all the closeness we’d shared in those moments when I was barely hanging on, it felt like something had changed after I’d recovered.

Things had settled back into a routine, a new normal. We worked together, missions, assignments, strategy meetings, but there was always a distance between us that hadn’t been there before. I had hoped that the connection we’d forged in the heat of battle would translate into something more. Maybe not romantic, but something real.

Something that meant we could lean on each other, that the walls he’d built around himself might start to crack. But they didn’t. He remained as distant as ever, and I couldn’t help but feel the cold edge of it every time we were together.

I tried. I did. After the battle, I’d reached out to him, offering to talk, offering to help him through whatever he was carrying. But every time I did, he brushed me off, just enough to keep me at arm’s length.

The look in his eyes when I pressed him for more, something vulnerable, something fleeting, only made it harder to let him be. And still, he didn’t let me in. He stayed the same, a puzzle I couldn’t solve, a wall I couldn’t break through.

It was frustrating. Infuriating. I’d thought, in the process of everything, that we might have found some sort of understanding. We’d shared something so raw, so intense. Yet he remained as closed off as ever.

We would talk, sure. We’d banter during missions, exchange strategies, even share the occasional brief conversation about mundane things. But it was all surface-level.

Always.

There was a part of me that wanted to push deeper, to ask him what was really going on beneath the surface, but I hesitated. I didn’t know if he would shut me out again, if he would just slip further into that shell of his, closing me off for good. I couldn’t bear that.

Still, the tension between us was undeniable. It wasn’t just my imagination; I could feel it in the air, in the silence that stretched out too long between us, in the moments when I’d look at him and see the walls, always there, always so high. And as much as I tried to focus on the work, tried to ignore it, the silence ate away at me.

That’s when I decided enough was enough.
One evening, after a long, grueling day, I approached him. He’d been quieter than usual, something I’d noticed over the past few days, his usual sharp edge dulled by whatever it was he was wrestling with. I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to know if there was something more, if this distance between us meant something I wasn’t understanding.

He was sitting on the bench outside the facility, staring into the distance, his posture stiff but relaxed enough to suggest he wasn’t entirely focused on anything. He was thinking, lost in whatever thoughts constantly spun behind that unreadable gaze. I hesitated for a moment, watching him from a distance, the cool night air wrapping around me like a blanket.

I was already walking toward him before I had time to second-guess myself.

He didn’t turn to look at me when I sat down beside him. There was no acknowledgment, no nod. It was as if I hadn’t even disturbed his thoughts.

I sighed quietly, frustrated. I wasn’t going to wait for him to reach out this time. I needed answers.

"You know, I’ve been thinking... I don’t get it."

"After all we’ve been through, why do you still keep everyone at arm’s length?"

He grunts in annoyance, not looking at you as he fiddles with his gear

"I told you before. I’m not a damn charity case. I’m fine on my own."

I frown, a little frustrated, but I soften my tone.

"I’m not trying to fix you or anything, Toji. I just... you don’t let anyone in. You never really talk about what’s going on in your head." You sigh.

"It’s like you’re always shutting down anyone who tries to get close. Even after everything... we’ve been through together."

He lets out a sharp exhale and pauses for a moment, clearly irritated by your persistence.

"Nothing to talk about. I’ve been through enough to know better than to get attached to anyone. You’re the one who’s still acting like things should be different." He smirks, but it’s bitter.

"This isn’t some happy ending. People like me don’t get to have those."

I shift, frustrated but trying to keep my voice calm.

"I’m not asking for a fairy tale. I just... I want to understand why you think it’s better to shut everyone out. You don’t have to keep pretending that you don’t need anyone."

He snorts, clearly fed up, and leans back against the wall.

"You think I want to depend on someone? Hell, I don’t even know what that would look like. Every time I let someone close, they end up dragging me down or turning their back on me. It’s just easier to keep everyone away. You want to help? Stay out of my way."

My expression softens as I sit beside him, no longer angry, but trying to make him see something different.

"It doesn’t have to be like that. You don’t have to push everyone away. You’re not alone in this. I’m here. I know... it’s hard. But you don’t have to carry all of it by yourself."

He looks at you for the first time, his expression unreadable, and his voice drops to a quieter tone.

"You think people don’t have their own shit to deal with? What makes you think I’m some kind of hero who’s gonna just let others in?"

I take a deep breath, meeting his gaze. My voice is quieter now.

"Because... you deserve someone who isn’t going to give up on you. Someone who’s not scared to stick around. And... I’m not going anywhere."

There’s a long, tense silence. He looks away, his jaw tight as he struggles with what to say.

"It’s not that simple." He mutters almost to himself.

"I don’t want anyone to get caught up in my mess. I’ve lost too many people to that... I’m not asking for anyone to save me. I don’t need it."

I nod, understanding his vulnerability.

"I’m not trying to save you, Toji. I just want you to know... you don’t have to do everything alone. I know it’s scary, but you don’t have to shut people out completely."

He stays silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he huffs, a slight flicker of something almost like resignation in his eyes.

"Yeah... well, maybe I’m not good at letting people in. But... don’t get too comfortable. I don’t promise anyone forever."

He stands up, his tone returning to his usual gruffness.

"But I guess I can deal with you sticking around for a little longer. Don’t get used to it."

A small smile tugs at your lips as you watch him walk away, but you know this is the first time he’s ever let someone in, even if it’s just a little.

"I’ll take what I can get."