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

Upon seeing Mashiro, he opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end, he only called out to her, "...senpai."

Mashiro entered the room, gently closing the door behind her. Her gaze swept over the hospital bed; the body had already been taken away, and Itani's neatly arranged belongings were placed on the bed.

"When did this happen?" she asked calmly.

"About... twenty minutes ago," a hoarse voice came through, "after saying his last words, he never woke up again."

"These are what you're taking with you, right?" Mashiro asked, looking at the belongings on the bed, her tone softening.

"Hmm." Itadori nodded, his gaze falling on the pile of things before quickly looking away. "There are still some formalities to complete."

"I'll stay with you," Mashiro nodded and said.

Itadori looked up into Mashiro's calm eyes and finally just nodded.

Mashiro put the belongings into a bag, slung it over her shoulder, then turned around and gently patted Itadori: "Let's go, let's get the paperwork done."

For the next hour, Mashiro stayed by Itadori's side.

At the nurses' station, a young nurse handed out various documents and explained them one by one.

When Huzhang bows his head to fill out forms and sign them, his fingers sometimes tremble slightly.

Mashiro stood silently watching from half a step away from him.

After explaining the last item, the nurse put away the materials and glanced hesitantly at Itani: "Are you... alright?"

"This is the first time this has ever happened to me." Itari's voice was a little hoarse. He paused for a moment, organizing his thoughts, "It doesn't feel real yet."

He returned the pen to the nurse, rubbed his finger across the paper, leaving a small ink mark.

"But if you're always frowning, Grandpa will get angry."

He took a deep breath, raised his shoulders, and then lowered them again.

"I'll burn him to ashes with a smile."

The nurse paused for a moment, nodded, and said nothing more.

As I stepped out of the hospital building, the night wind rushed towards me.

The April night was still cool, and the wind blew in through her collar. Mashiro zipped her coat up to the top, and a few strands of her silver hair were blown by the wind. She reached out and gathered them up.

Itari was only wearing his school uniform jacket over a thin T-shirt. The wind blew, and the hem of his jacket fluttered slightly.

"Are you cold?" she asked after glancing at him.

Huzhang shook his head: "It's alright."

Mashiro glanced at his jacket, which offered no protection from the wind, and said nothing. She simply slowed her pace to shield herself from the wind, though her small frame did little to help.

The two walked back along the street, the light from the streetlights casting patches of light and shadow on the sidewalk.

Huzhang stared blankly at the traffic on the road. Occasionally, a car would drive by, its headlights leaving two moving beams of light on the ground before quickly disappearing.

They reached the intersection, the light was red, and the two stopped.

Suddenly, Dr. Huzhang spoke:

"senior."

"Ok?"

"Grandpa's last words were, 'You should die surrounded by a crowd.'" His voice was much lower than usual, as if he were speaking to himself. "He also said, 'Don't end up like him.'"

Mashiro stared at the flashing red numbers ahead, saying nothing, simply listening quietly.

“But I feel that Grandpa didn’t leave alone.” Itari raised his head and looked at the streetlights across the street. “I was by his side in the end. Just now, the doctor came, and the nurses helped. And now, you are here too, senior.”

He turned his head and looked at Mashiro. The light from the streetlamp fell on his face, and a faint light flickered again in his swollen eyes.

"So Grandpa wasn't as lonely as he said, right?"

Mashiro met his gaze, remained silent for two seconds, and then nodded slightly.

“Yes,” she said, “he’s not alone.”

The green light came on, and the two crossed the zebra crossing.

After walking a dozen steps, Tiger Cane spoke again.

"senior."

"Ah."

"Will I... have no family left in the future?"

The question was asked very softly, as if afraid of hearing the answer.

She continued walking, her steps neither hurried nor slow, making soft rustling sounds on the sidewalk.

The streetlights stretched her shadow long and short, then stretched it again.

"I have no family."

She finally spoke, her tone indifferent, as if the topic was today's weather.

"From the time I can remember, I have been alone. I live alone, and I do everything alone. No one is waiting for me to go back, and no one tells me what kind of person I should become."

Haddō looked at her with some surprise.

"So I've never really understood what it's like between family members." Mashiro continued, "Looking at you and your grandfather, I'm a little envious."

She stopped, turned around, her silver hair swaying slightly in the night breeze, her red eyes bathed in the warm light of the streetlights, her gaze still calm, yet now imbued with more emotion.

“Your grandfather entrusted you to me,” she said.

Huzhang slightly widened his eyes.

“On the day I first met him,” Mashiro continued, “I will be here with you until you find a new family, or until you are able to stand on your own two feet.”

Her voice was soft, but every word was clearly conveyed to Itajō's heart.

A gust of wind blew from the end of the street, swirling a few withered leaves around their feet.

“This is an agreement between your grandfather and me, and it’s also a promise I made to you.” She raised her hand and tucked a strand of silver hair that had fallen beside her ear behind her ear.

She looked into Itsuji's eyes, those red, dry, tired but still bright eyes.

Mashiro extended her hand and smiled slightly.

"You are not alone, Yuujin."

Huzhang carefully examined the petite girl's outstretched hand.

There were several old, scabbed wounds on his knuckles, and his nails were neatly trimmed.

What should he say?

Should I say thank you, or okay, or say, "Senior, your hands are so small?"

He should have responded, but something seemed to be blocking his throat, and he couldn't make a sound.

It wasn't because of sadness; when Grandpa passed away, the feeling that was stuck in my chest was painful, like being hit by a boulder.

What's pressing on his chest now is different; it's just as heavy, but it brings him warmth.

He recalled the first time he saw her in the hospital. The silver-haired girl stood by her grandfather's bedside, turned to look at him, and her eyes were calmer than a child's.

He thought at the time that there was an indescribable sense of distance about this person, as if he were looking at the world through glass.

When she asked him on LINE where to find good desserts, the message she sent was very short, short enough to show that she was hesitant. He was secretly smiling while holding his phone at that moment.

Later at the dessert shop, she looked very serious while drinking her matcha latte, and her pigtails were adorable.

She always walked on the outside, always half a step behind, always quietly observing everything with her red eyes.

She never spoke of herself. Not even once.

But now she says she has no family, never has.

She spoke so calmly that it took Huzhang several seconds to realize what she had heard.

Then she said, "I am not alone."

Seeing that he didn't respond for a while, Mashiro tilted her head and waved her hand in front of him: "It's tiring to hold your hand up like that."

Huzhang realized what was happening, squeezed the hand, and then let go.

He looked at Zhenbai; a few strands of her silver hair were blown away by the night wind and clung to her cheeks.

The light from the streetlamp shone down from behind her, casting a thin layer of color on her silhouette.

"gone."

She turned around and walked forward, her steps slow, her silver hair swaying gently behind her.

Huzhang stood still, watching her retreating figure.

He remembered how she looked when she turned around, the way she raised her hand to tuck her hair away, the silver hair slipping from her fingertips and then being half-covered by the falling strands.

Under the streetlights, those red eyes looked beautiful.

It wasn't a particularly special scene, but he felt he would remember it for a long time.

"Let's go," Mashiro urged without turning her head.

Huzhang snapped out of his daze, took a few steps, and caught up with him.

"senior."

"Ok?"

"I'll bake you a cake every year for your birthday from now on."

"……Need not."

"Make it extra large, and fill it with strawberries."

"Listen to what people are saying."

"So, what kind of food do you like, senior?"

Mashiro didn't answer, she just walked faster.

Tiger Rod chased after her, laughing loudly.

The night wind blew again.