The space was narrow; two men standing side-by-side would have their shoulders touching, and it was far too cramped for three people to clash in earnest.
In that confined corridor, as Gojo Satoru's Limitless, Fushiguro Toji's Inverted Spear of Heaven, and Itadori Yuji's Blood Manipulation and slashes intersected all at once, the very air seemed to repeatedly sever and reconnect for a fraction of a second.
Toji kicked off the left wall, sliding down like liquid.
There were no footsteps.
More accurately, at every moment his foot made contact, he was already transitioning to the next movement, leaving no window for sound to resonate.
The Inverted Spear of Heaven was in his right hand. He had discarded the handle of the broken Soul Splitter Katana and instead gripped a short auxiliary Cursed Tool in a reverse grip.
What he needed right now wasn't a weapon. It was a momentary error. If he could create just that much margin, he could finish the rest with his bare hands.
Gojo stepped into his path.
"You're not getting past me this time."
The playfulness had vanished.
His blue eyes were sunken, clear and cold, and the Limitless barrier was vibrating minutely around him.
Toji didn't slam into him head-on. He twisted the Inverted Spear of Heaven toward the outside of Gojo's left shoulder, not trying to carve through the Limitless layer directly but skimming through its thinnest point.
It was a calculated choice.
The Limitless was an iron wall, but even the structure maintaining that wall had a grain to it.
Toji didn't know the theory. He simply read where it was relatively thin based on the physical feedback accumulated during the battle. It wasn't because he understood the technique; it was an instinct his body had refined for the sole purpose of killing.
Gojo twisted his lips into a smirk.
"Wow. Seriously annoying."
Toji dived through the slight gap created by the Inverted Spear of Heaven.
It looked like he was aiming for Gojo's flank, but that too was a feint. Toji's gaze and center of gravity were fixed in one direction from start to finish.
Itadori Yuji.
The one who had to die first.
And the unsettling bastard who wouldn't kill even though he clearly could.
Yuji didn't move.
To Toji's eyes, that stillness was far more threatening. Usually, strong people either retreat or counter. That wasn't the case here. This brat was standing there with a face that seemed to already know exactly what choice his opponent would make at any given second.
'That's what makes him so irritating.'
Toji's left foot grazed the floor.
In that instant, red lines bloomed again beneath Yuji's feet.
Blood Manipulation.
Toji grit his teeth.
The volume of blood wasn't even that much. Yet, the entire battlefield was on the boy's side. The blood scattered earlier wasn't just blood anymore; it was a set of coordinates, connection points for the technique, and a trap designed to swallow his movement lines.
Toji changed direction immediately.
Abandoning the frontal assault, he ran up a pillar to escape upward.
In narrow spaces, the ceiling is often unexpectedly empty. Humans always prioritize calculating threats on their own level first.
However, a red line was already drawn at that height as well.
Yuji raised his left hand.
"Supernova."
The explosion wasn't large. Instead, it was excessively dense.
Compressed blood burst all at once near the ceiling, raining down needle-like destruction rather than mere shrapnel. Toji twisted his body mid-air to dodge most of it, but several blood threads grazed his right flank and thigh, tearing through his shirt and skin simultaneously.
The wounds weren't deep. Yet, it felt disgusting.
It was always like this. The attacks never went deep enough to kill. Instead, they disrupted the rhythm of his body and stripped away the options for his next move.
Yuji was refining attacks that would have been far easier to use for killing and specifically honing them to keep his target alive.
Gojo didn't miss the opening and lunged in, twisting his body.
It wasn't a punch, but a shoulder tackle.
A body coated in Limitless pushing in was pressure enough. Toji angled the Inverted Spear of Heaven to deflect the density. Sliding between the wall and Gojo, he threw the short Cursed Tool at the same time.
The blade wasn't aimed at Yuji's eyes, but his wrist.
A good move.
Yuji's technique operation was excessively fast and precise. If he could sever the hand, he could delay him by at least a beat.
But Yuji's hand was no longer there.
Instead of pulling his hand away, he thrust it forward.
Toji's eyes flickered minutely.
'Again?'
The index finger rose. It wasn't the palm, or even the whole arm. It was a movement that suggested a single fingerprint, a single fingertip, was enough.
"Dismantle."
This slash was visible. It was a razor-thin line.
Even so, the air in the hallway felt as if it were being split into two layers. The slash didn't target Toji's body. Instead, it sliced the stone floor directly in front of Toji's feet—the exact spot where his next step would land.
The stone floor split open. This wasn't a simple collapse of the footing.
It was a severance line laid out in advance, having predicted Toji's timing, angle, and even weight transfer. Since the ground gave way the moment his foot touched it, his next stance could never be completed.
Toji immediately threw himself into the air.
It was a reflex. A physiological response to survive.
That was the gap Yuji was looking for.
For the first time, Yuji sprinted through the center of the hallway. He was fast.
If he had been strictly playing the counter until now, things were different now. It was the movement of someone who had decided they could no longer be passive if they wanted to subdue the opponent while keeping them alive.
The air was compressed even before Gojo's eyes could track the movement.
Yuji's right hand came right up to Toji's face.
He didn't make a fist. His palm was wide open.
Toji instinctively held up the Inverted Spear of Heaven instead of the Soul Splitter Katana. He judged it better to have the side that could nullify Cursed Techniques.
The choice wasn't wrong.
The problem was that Yuji hadn't just used a technique; he had stepped into the distance where he could use it.
His palm lightly pressed against the flat of the Inverted Spear's blade.
And then——Cleave.
This time, not even an incantation was heard. The result arrived before the sound. The blade of the Inverted Spear didn't break.
However, the strength in Toji's grip was precisely dismantled. His wrist, fingers, and forearm muscles—the very structural integrity required to hold the weapon was severed. The Cursed Tool slipped from his hand, and simultaneously, Yuji's left hand pushed into the inside of Toji's elbow.
There was a sharp crack. The joint hadn't shattered, but it was completely locked and hyperextended. In the next beat, he was certain to die.
Toji bared his teeth. This was different from before.
Finally, he realized. Itadori Yuji was using a higher level of precision specifically so he wouldn't have to kill. Severing an opponent to nothing is easy; it is far more difficult to dismantle only the connections of joints and power, the posture and line of sight, and the next possible choices. Yet, the brat in front of him was doing it as if it were second nature.
'He's a monster.'
That thought crossed Toji's mind for the first time. Yuji didn't hesitate.
Before Toji could fully detach, Yuji hooked the inside of his opponent's ankle with his toe. It wasn't a hook designed to trip him, but a footwork technique that skewed the center of gravity by an inch, erasing the very angle his body needed to maintain its balance.
Toji lost his equilibrium in mid-air. In that split second, a black flash of lightning flickered across the back of Yuji's hand.
"Black Flash."
Because he whispered it so softly, even Gojo couldn't hear it clearly. But the result was unmistakable.
THUD.
It wasn't a fist, but the back of his hand that made contact with Toji's solar plexus. And then, the black sparks erupted.
If it had been a normal Black Flash, the entire hallway would have been blown away. But Yuji's output control had already transcended that level. He left only the amount of power required, exactly as much as was needed. Shaking the soul without tearing it, destroying the internals without killing, and cutting off consciousness while ensuring he couldn't regroup.
Toji's body was hurled into the wall.
CRUNCH.
His back slammed into the stone wall, sending dust raining down. The man stopped, leaning against the wall with one knee buckled. Blood trickled down his chin, and his breath came in ragged, scattered gasps.
But he wasn't dead. Because Yuji hadn't killed him. Gojo slowly blinked as he watched the scene.
"...Wow."
That was the only thing that could come out. Toji took a moment to catch his breath while leaning against the wall. He could still move. He could jump back into the fray right this second.
But he knew. That Black Flash just now could have killed him. If it had been even a hair deeper, his ribs, heart, and the very connection to his soul would have collapsed at once.
Yuji took one step forward and stopped, leaving a single pace of distance between them. Toji looked up at him.
"Why..."
His voice was hoarse.
"Why stop there? Why didn't you finish it?"
Yuji was silent for a moment. In the corridor, the dust hadn't settled yet, and Gojo was no longer smiling. Far away, toward the outside of the main hall, Riko and Kuroi's presence could be felt faintly. They were safe. At least for now.
Yuji spoke in a low voice.
"If I kill you, Megumi will be left all alone."
Toji's gaze froze. It was a very brief pause, but even Gojo noticed it this time. Fushiguro Megumi. That name wasn't just a passing sound to this man.
Toji wiped his bloody mouth with the back of his hand.
"Ridiculous."
He said it without a hint of a smile.
"You think having someone like me around is going to make his life better?"
"It doesn't need to be any worse than it is now."
Yuji's reply was calm. Toji stared at him for a long time. This guy was truly bizarre. He'd been irritating since the first moment they met, and he was still disgusting now. The fact that he could kill him but didn't, the fact that he spoke someone else's son's name so casually, and the fact that he read his moves throughout the entire fight without showing his own hand—all of it was infuriating. And yet, strangely, it didn't feel like a lie.
Toji very slowly bowed his head and then raised it again.
"...Let me hear it one more time."
Gojo furrowed his brows.
"What?"
"That name."
Toji stood up, pushing his back off the wall. His body was still mangled and his breathing wasn't quite steady, but his stance remained unbroken. He was an incredible man; even after taking such a beating, he didn't forget how to stand while keeping a final move in reserve.
Yuji said simply,
"Fushiguro Megumi."
Toji's eyes darkened for a fraction of a second. It was a reaction no one could easily read—whether it was lingering regret, mockery, or something he thought he'd discarded long ago briefly flickering back to life.
Toji clicked his tongue briefly.
"You really are an unpleasant bastard to the very end."
Though he said that, the killing intent was different from the start. At the very least, there was no reason to fight any longer. The Star Plasma Vessel was still alive, and with the variable named Itadori Yuji in play, the plan had to be rebuilt from scratch. More than anything, that boy had no intention of killing him. That fact was the most annoying variable of the night.
Toji slowly turned around.
Gojo tried to step forward, but Yuji raised a hand to stop him.
"Let him go."
"What?"
"Right now, letting him go is the right choice."
Gojo narrowed his eyes.
"Are you going easy on him again?"
"No."
Yuji spoke while looking at Toji's back.
"I've simply judged that it's better for him to withdraw."
Toji didn't look back after hearing those words. Instead, just before he walked away, he murmured very lowly,
"It won't work a second time."
Yuji took it calmly.
"Doesn't matter."
"...Sure."
With that one word, Fushiguro Toji's body dissolved into the darkness. Even the way he vanished was noiseless—so much so that it was uncanny how a human with no Cursed Energy could erase their presence to that extent.
A moment later, only silence remained in the corridor. Gojo let out a long sigh and ran a hand through his hair.
"Wow. This is the worst in so many ways."
"Who is?"
Yuji asked.
"Both of you."
Gojo nudged a fragment of the Inverted Spear on the floor with his toe.
"That guy's annoying in his own right, and you're even more annoying in yours."
Yuji didn't respond. Geto Suguru's presence drew closer again from the distance. He had clearly returned as fast as possible after getting Riko and Kuroi to a safe zone. The moment he appeared, he surveyed the cracks in the walls, the shattered floor, the scattered blood, and the two standing there unharmed.
"Is it over?"
Gojo shrugged.
"For now."
Geto's gaze turned toward Yuji.
"Did he get away, or did you let him go?"
Yuji answered briefly.
"I let him go."
Geto didn't ask further. Instead, he quietly studied Yuji's face for a brief moment. It was an expression that suggested he understood enough—that Yuji could have killed him but chose not to, and that the reason wasn't simple compassion. Gojo twisted the corners of his mouth.
"Mind explaining now?"
"Explaining what?"
"Fushiguro Megumi."
Yuji closed and opened his eyes. It was the question he'd expected. He couldn't tell them everything right now. But he couldn't avoid it entirely, either. At the very least, he had to explain why he hadn't killed Toji.
Yuji looked at the darkness at the end of the hallway before speaking.
"That kid needs a father."
Gojo and Geto remained silent simultaneously. Deep within the Tombs of the Star Corridor, in a time before the thresholds of merger and death were reached, those words lingered with a strange, heavy weight. Riko was still alive. Gojo and Geto hadn't split apart yet. Toji had retreated alive.
In a place where tragedy was clearly about to begin, the world was shifting its course ever so slightly.
Yuji slowly wiped the remaining blood from the back of his hand. The resonance of the Black Flash, the traces of Blood Manipulation, and the echoes of the slashes were all gradually settling. But inside him, everything became even clearer.
He wasn't late this time. At least, not yet.
Gojo muttered at his side,
"Things just got really bothersome."
Yuji let out a very small breath.
"It's only just beginning."