Curse Return: Demon Void Girl Doesn't Want to Be a Weakling

After chatting for so long, Itari never once asked her about her background, why she came to Sendai, or why her grandfather told her to come to her if she needed anything.

He simply accepted her presence there naturally, accepted her identity as "granddaughter of his grandfather's friend," and treated her with kindness.

The spoon unconsciously traced circles on the bottom of the bowl. Although this was her intention, this unguarded trust made Mashiro feel a little complicated.

“Senior,” Itadori suddenly spoke.

"Ok?"

"Is something on your mind?" Itachi looked at her, his eyes very direct. "I feel like you've been worried about something."

Mashiro looked up and met his gaze; the air was silent for a few seconds.

His eyes reflected his own image: a silver-haired girl with a perpetually calm expression, but whose crimson eyes always held a sense of heaviness and weariness.

"No." She looked away, picked up her cup, and took a sip. The matcha had gone slightly cool. "I was just thinking about something."

"Oh," Itadori nodded, not asking any further questions, and gave a refreshing smile. "If you have any troubles, senior, you can tell me. Although I may not be able to help, I can still listen!"

"……Thanks."

When it came time to pay, Mashiro wanted to pay, but Itadori firmly refused.

"I invited the senior here, and I'm a guy, how can I let a girl pay!" He pulled out his wallet so fast that even Shiro didn't have time to react.

I absolutely did not want to get something for free, absolutely not.

When I stepped out of the store, it was already getting dark, and the streetlights along the street were turning on one by one.

"Shall I escort you back, senior?" Itadori said.

"No need, it's very close." Mashiro shook her head. "Be careful on your way home."

"Alright! Then be careful on your way, senior!" Itari waved to her and turned to walk in another direction.

"Itadori," Mashiro called out to him.

"Hmm?" Haddō was called out, looking somewhat puzzled.

Mashiro looked at him, opened her mouth, and then closed it again.

She originally wanted to say, "Your grandfather doesn't have much time left," "In a couple of days, someone named Fushiguro Megumi will come looking for you," and "You will be facing unimaginable monsters."

But those words stuck in my throat, and what I finally managed to say was just a vague reminder.

“Someone might come looking for you in the next couple of days. Listen carefully to what they say.” Mashiro looked into his eyes, hesitated for a moment, but still didn’t mention his grandfather: “And, be careful.”

Itadori blinked, then nodded seriously: "I understand, senior. Please be careful too."

He smiled, turned and ran, his pink hair standing out even more under the dim streetlights. "See you tomorrow!"

After running a few steps, Huzhang subconsciously turned back.

Under the streetlights, the silver-haired girl still stood there, gazing in the direction he had left, her shadow obscured by the trees.

That usually expressionless face was now shrouded in deep worry, its brows furrowed slightly and its lips pressed into a straight line.

But the dim light blurred her outline, making it difficult for Yuji Itadori to see her clearly.

Seemingly sensing his gaze, Mashiro's expression quickly faded, returning to normal.

"See you tomorrow."

She raised her hand and gently pressed down the brim of her hat, spoke softly, then turned and walked in the opposite direction from him, her figure quickly disappearing from sight.

Chapter 15: Not Alone (4k)

6 PM, Miyagi Prefectural General Hospital, ward.

After school, Yuji Itadori bought a bouquet of flowers and went to the hospital. When he opened the ward door, his grandfather was already awake.

"I told you not to come, but you keep bringing flowers." Grandpa said impatiently, sitting on the hospital bed.

Itari pouted and put his schoolbag on the chair by the wall. "Isn't this the same as usual?"

He walked to the window, picked up the vase, took out the wilted old flowers, and carefully replaced them with new ones. "These flowers aren't for you, they're for the nurse."

"Then there's even less need for that." The old man snorted and finally turned his head. "Why don't you go join a club instead of always running around here?"

"It'll be over by five o'clock!" Huzhang retorted irritably, taking an apple and a peeler from the bag and sitting down on the chair by the bed, the plastic chair creaking slightly.

How are you feeling today? Is your cough any better?

"That's how it is," Grandpa said vaguely, but his gaze remained fixed on his face.

"Hiren."

"Hmm?" Itachi didn't look up, focusing on the apple in his hand, the peel hanging down and swaying slightly above the trash can.

"Have you seen Kujo since then?"

He paused in his peeling of the Japanese knotweed, looked up at his grandfather, and nodded. "Yes, we had dessert together yesterday afternoon. What's up?"

"It's nothing." The old man looked away and gazed out the window again, where the setting sun was casting its last rays.

He paused for a few seconds before speaking, his voice even lower: "Did she say anything to you?"

"He told me to be careful," Itachi answered honestly, cutting the peeled apple into even pieces on a plate and sticking toothpicks in them. "He also said that someone might contact me soon and that I should listen carefully to what they say. Grandpa, who exactly is Kujo-senpai? Is she the granddaughter of one of your old friends? It doesn't seem like it."

Yasuke Itadori remained silent for a long time.

The beeping of the monitor echoed regularly in the ward, preventing the air from becoming stagnant.

"She carried a heavy burden; she was a pitiful child," the old man said slowly, his gaze passing over the staff and looking at the setting sun outside the window. "You are happier than her."

Huzhang blinked, not quite understanding.

"Grandpa, is there something you haven't told me?"

The old man turned his gaze away and looked at his grandson.

Those eyes, no longer as clear and sharp as they once were, held emotions that Itadori had never seen before.

"Yujin, Kujo is younger than you, but much more mature. She will protect you." The old man paused, then solemnly instructed, "However, if possible, you must also protect her."

"What are you talking about..." Yuji Itadori scratched his head, his expression becoming serious.

“Listen carefully, there’s one last thing I have to tell you.” The old man’s voice suddenly became clear and strong. He looked straight into his grandson’s eyes and said the most important thing, “You are strong. Go and save others.”

Huzhang stopped what he was doing and listened attentively.

"Do what you can. Save as many people as you can. It's okay to feel lost. Don't mind if you don't receive thanks. In short, you should try your best to save more people."

The old man took a breath, slowly raised his hand, and pressed it against his chest.

"You will die surrounded by a crowd."

The ward was eerily quiet.

"Sometimes, helping others means you have to walk a difficult path yourself. You might get hurt, you might lose everything, or you might even die."

“I know, Grandpa,” Itari took a deep breath and said softly, “but if it’s something that must be done, it has to be done no matter how difficult it is, right?”

Itadori Yasuke stared at him for a very long time.

Then a proud smile slowly appeared on that wrinkled face.

"Ah," he said, slowly closing his eyes, "Go. Do what you think is right. Don't forget what Grandpa said."

"Yes." Itari nodded vigorously. "I won't forget."

Itadori Yamasuke turned to the side and whispered, his voice barely audible to Hisahito, "I'm entrusting this to you... the Kujo family's child."

"Grandpa? Grandpa?"

......

Mashiro sat on the sofa in the apartment, her eyes closed, sensing the fluctuations of magical energy outside. The aura emanating from Sukuna's fingers had grown stronger again, and the nearby spirits were stirring restlessly.

"Ding ding."

A LINE notification sounded, and a red "1" popped up on the pink tiger avatar.

She had some suspicions in her mind, so she opened the chat.

"Hiren": Senior.

Yujin: Grandpa is gone.

"Yujin": Just now, at the hospital.

Three messages came in quick succession. There were no emoticons, no exclamation marks, and even the periods at the end of the sentences were placed neatly. This was unlike Hisahito Itadori's usual demeanor; one could feel his inner pain from his words.

Mashiro looked at the screen. The room was quiet, and she could hear birds chirping outside the window.

She remembered the sharp-eyed old man in the ward, his final request, and his words, "I'm entrusting this to you."

She typed, deleted, and typed again.

My finger hovered above the screen for two seconds.

In the end, only a few words were sent out.

"Mashiro": I'm coming right away.

By the time Mashiro arrived at the hospital, the sun had already completely set.

The corridor was quiet, with only the light from the nurses' station in the distance and the faint sound of voices.

Mashiro's footsteps were very light; her sneakers made almost no sound on the floor.

The door to the ward was ajar. She stood in the doorway, her hand hovering over the doorknob, but didn't go in immediately.

If Itari is crying, her going in will only embarrass him.

A few slivers of light shone through the crack in the door, cold and glaring, but no crying could be heard.

She opened the door.

Yuji Itadori stood with his back to her by the hospital bed, his posture very straight, his shoulders taut.

The collar of the school uniform is a little crooked, probably from rubbing against it while running around and not having time to fix it.

Hearing the door open, Itsuji slowly turned around.

His eyes were red, without any tear stains, but terribly dry.