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𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒 𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌 in the subway station. A dozen of cursed spirits lay around her as she slashed her katana in the air. Blood splattered on the ground before she sheathed it at her side. She looked around, searching for the sudden presence that filled the air. She’d felt it outside, even before it was fully formed.
She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, her lazy gaze following the curse dragging its feet a few meters in front of her. It turned its head when it noticed her, and didn’t have a moment to react before it was bursting into a hundred pieces from her gaze.
She crushed pieces of the curses mangled bodies as she walked forward. She reached out and grabbed the railing and tucked her legs under her, jumping over it swiftly. She heard voices a few meters ahead of her and glowered.
“Hold on, I think I heard something,” A female voice said.
“It’s probably just another transfigured human,” A male voice replied.
“Shouldn’t we exorcise it?” Another male voice.
“I don’t want any more trouble than what we already have,” The first male voice said. “We already got separated away from everyone else.”
“You’re right. We should look for a way out before we do anything,” The female replied.
It only took Y/n a minute to recognize their voices. She walked towards the sound of their voices. Her steps become more clear to them, making their guard rise.
“Alright, that’s not a transfigured human,” Kugisaki stated, pulling out three nails between her fingers.
“Great,” Fushiguro said.
“H-Hold on a second…” Itadori said, lowering his hands. His eyes widened. “Y-Y/n-sensei?”
“What?” Fushiguro looked to him before back at the figure approaching. She stepped from the shadows.
Bandages covered her left eye, neatly and expertly wrapped around her head. Some were on her wrists and wrapped around her palms too. Her hair fell around her, framing her bruised face. Her shirt was soaked with blood, and her right hand rested on the butt end of the katana at her side. Her gaze was heavy, and they all could feel the overwhelming presence of her curse. It drifted as the seconds passed on, masking it at her own will.
“Sensei!” Kugisaki yelled. “You’re covered with blood! We need to get you to Ieiri--”
“The blood’s not mine,” She said.
“Then you…?” Itadori asked.
“Yeah, he’s dead. For good this time,” She said, her voice strained and tired-sounding. “What about the three of you? Are you alright?”
