三四

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PADDED FOOTSTEPS

MUFFLED BY DEAD GRASS.

Two days - two hundred and sixty miles. That's how long it had taken Yachiru to run from the Miyagi Prefecture to Tokyo. She had done so without taking a single break, her now weakened form putting her in a particularly vulnerable state. Her withered appearance was pitiable, representing the shell of the person she was succumbing to. Blood stained her previously pristine uniform, proof of the past trials she had withstood to get to this current position. Her soaked socks had seeped into her sandals, a wet sound slapping against the floor with every step she took.

Her tired legs acted against her will, burdening her efforts for efficiency. A previously swift advancement on the city ahead had waned into nothing more than a weak jog, her limbs finally beginning to give up on her. An intense ache spread throughout her body, pleading that she stop to rest if it was only for a minute. However, the Tokyo skyline was now in her line of vision; her head forced her body to continue.

Yet, the once bustling city still seemed so far out of reach. Yachiru picked up the pace once again, her mind in a harsh battle with her body. The flourescent hue of the barrier ahead seemed all the more inviting, her eyes widening in relief as she realised how close she had gotten. Itadori and Megumi were close, meaning she was only a short white away from being reunited with them.

She was excited to see the pair; they were the last shred of comfort left for her existence. They reminded her of easier times, consistently serving as  monuments of hope that allowed her to anticipate peace. If she could keep them both safe, then she would be able to find tranquility in her heart once again.

The sharp winds smashing against her small frame only acted as a means to hinder her nearing in on the city, yet their strength did not match her remaining resolve. She grasped at her reasonings, holding them close to her heart with a permanent scowl fixed to her face. Ever since Satoru's sealing, it was almost as though the ever burning fire in her spirit had dwindled; all that remained were the embers to keep her running — running towards an unknown, yet apparently cruel fate that she had somehow bound herself to. It seemed that with every step forward she took, Satoru only seemed further away.

The barrier that was now only a few feet away made her bare her teeth, knowing fully well that even taking such a step forward would not take her any closer to Satoru. She was at her wits end; whilst she needed to ensure the safety of her students, she desperately needed to identify Kenjaku's hiding place, and preferably as soon as possible.

As she ran through the curtain, a thought had struck her. Izanami hadn't spoken to her in a while. Yachiru had tried reaching out multiple times, but was yet to receive a response. At first, Yachiru thought that she might be sleeping, but she couldn't recall a time that Izanami wasn't awakened by her calls.

Her wandering thoughts had made her lose focus on her movements, causing her to tumble to the ground after tripping over a stray root at her feet. She let out a small yelp as her body hit the ground, an immense pain spread throughout her body and caused her to lay down longer than she would have initially liked.

"Who'd have thought... that the ground could be so comfortable?" She whispered, her head hitting the ground hard as her face rolled into the wet floor.Her eyes quickly forced themselves shut and succumbed to the sleep that her body had been long satiating for. 

Her slumber was an uneasy one; her subconscious paranoid mind begging for her to wake up. At first, her body wriggled around in an attempt to wake herself up. Yet, she gave in to the unusual warmth of the ground below her; chest raising lightly at intermittent stages as she retired to sleep.

To begin with, her dream could only be described as bleak — the once usually bright and homely environment reduced to a wet, obsolete darkness. Her eyes were lost in the empty space, completely disorientated as she could hardly tell what was left or right, forward or backwards; up or down.

"Izanami?" She voiced out, beckoning the soul to reveal herself. Yet, Yachiru was met with silence. Only the light splashing beneath her soggy footsteps could be heard, as she wandered further and further into the black.

The tar-like substance at her feet made movement somewhat difficult, the sticky substance seemingly acting as an adhesive. A warning, a purposefully placed physical metaphor that offered to alert her: do not move further forward, you may sink.

Small, weak footsteps moved toward her direction. A soft plodding on the sodden ground made its way to her ears, letting her know that she was not alone. Yachiru quickly turned around, she was met with her younger self.

Yet this time, she did not look so bright as she remembered. Her inner child had taken on an malnourished state; her small limbs hardly able to carry themselves as her bones protruded from underneath her skin. Sallow cheeks forced a wide and inviting smile, a painful image that Yachiru couldn't seem to withstand the sight of.

Yachiru tried to run towards her smaller self, but the thickened mud beneath her made each step more difficult than the previous.

"What's wrong?!" Her voice echoed, a yelp of concern and confusion.

"Nothing is wrong, what do you mean?!" A chirpy response; one that did not match the child's disheveled appearance.

"Where is Izanami?" Yachiru asked softly yet firmly, falling to her knees as she rested her hands on her younger self's shoulders.

"Izanami doesn't feel very well right now." The short girl gave a weak smile, coughing slightly as her already faltering disposition sunk further into the ground.

With all her might, Yachiru latched on to the young girl, strengthening her stance and cementing her feet into the ground as she pulled with all her might. Her efforts were in vain; her eyes watching in horror as her smaller self sunk further and further into the abyss.

"What is happening? Izanami?!" Yachiru cried out, begging for the old spirit to reveal herself. As the tears began to stream down her face, a small yet strong hand reached out to wipe them away.

"Your sole is rotting."

"What do you mean?!" Yachiru yelled in desperation, clutching on to the child's remaining hand as she began to sink further.

"You have to forget... and be happy-..."

Those were her last words before being completely consumed by the oozing liquid below them.

Yachiru awoke, gasping for air as she practically jumped up from her current position. The sky had turned dark, and the black clouds rolled in with a distant thunder. Her dream had left her with a daunting feeling, one that came with what could only be described as an impending doom; an excruciating emptiness. 

"Forget... and be happy?" A frosty breath. "How... how could I be happy?!" Her hands trembled in front of her face, shaking fingers clumsily finding their way to her scalp and tugging at her roots.

"How could I possibly be happy in this MESS?!" Her screams repeated, lightning striking in the night sky as tears rolled down her cheeks.

She pulled herself up from the muddied ground, her hair soaked from the onslaught of rain and her face wettened by salty tears.

Her eyebrows twisted into an frenzied glare, twitching harshly as she looked into the dead streets of the Tokyo Colony.

"I'm sorry, Izanami," voice quivering through gritted teeth, "but I won't forget, because if I do..." She steadied herself on her sword, speaking just a few more words to deaf ears "...then what would happen to everyone else?"

Over the past few days, Yachiru had been constructing a plan; one that wasn't at all concrete, and seemed completely unlikely to succeed. Yet, she digressed; it was all she had at the moment, and so she would continue this path and see it through.

She checked one last time for the tanto in her layers before looking sternly ahead, taking off into the shadowed city.

Her numb legs began to pick up the pace, following the familiar feeling of both Megumi and Itadori's respective presences. Maybe it was a stroke of luck; perhaps the God's had taken pity on her, because it certainly seemed that way as she realised the two boys where not too far away.

As she jumped from building to building, she quickly found herself on another one of those ugly high-rises. There didn't seem to be any players around, and so she was not at all apprehensive in her movements. She leaped from balcony to balcony, smashing through walls as she searched for the two boys.

As both Itadori and Megumi sat in their newly found abode, they felt the building shake. The two boys, alongside their new acquaintances, readied their stances; their eyes darting around the room in search of an inconsistencies.

The shattering of glass and pounding that seemed to surround them was inescapable, leaving all of the room's inhabitants unsure of what to expect. However; one there was one obvious, lingering fact that dwelled in the back of their skulls.

Whatever this was, it was stronger than anything they had ever felt before. They had fought special grade curses, and gone up against resurrected spirits. Yet none of these experiences matched up to what their senses were picking up on right now.

A slight sense of fear crept up the back of their necks as nearing footsteps could be heard coming down the hall, a squeaking noise against the wooden floorboards indicating that this person had found themselves right outside their door.

Itadori gulped, readying himself to attack as he looked at Megumi; face as serious as usual. The pink haired boy almost let out a shriek as a clothed arm phased through the door, followed by a withered uniformed woman that the pair could never mistake.

"YACHIRU?!" Itadori yelled, half frightened and half worried about his teacher.

Megumi, being the more pragmatic of the pair, ran to her aide immediately, pulling her arm over his shoulder and holsting her up. "How did you get like this?" He rasped out, quickly carrying her over to one of the seats and setting her down.

Now that she had seen that they were both safe, she could rest soundly. She spoke very few sensical words to the room before passing out once again, body slumped over in what looked almost defeatist.

"Is she okay?!" The white haired girl shrieked out, both confused and somewhat frightened by the Shinigami's sudden appearance.

Megumi studied Yachiru's form carefully, letting out a sigh of relief after seeing her chest rise. He picked her up once again, laying her out on the bed and ensuring she was comfortable.

"Megumi, what's wrong with her?!" Itadori lamented; knowing fully well that Megumi did not have the answers, but unable to stop himself from asking regardless.

"She'll be fine, we can talk to her when she wakes up..." He muttered, eyes scanning over her tattered form. "I've never seen her in such a way, but I'm certain she'll wake up."

Itadori rushed over to the bed, grasping Yachiru's hands in his own as he held them tenderly. He too raked his eyes over her body, feeling for himself the pain she had been through up until this very moment.

His eyes began to tear up, "Yachiru... what happened to you? It looks like you've been to hell and back."

The bodily intruder inside of him smirked, reaching out to the young boys subconscious in torment of him.

'That's because she has. And she will continue to do so.'