The city of Tokyo was eerily quiet— the quietest it'd ever been. Instead of the usual sounds of bustling traffic and citizens commuting, there was only the sounds of buildings ablaze, apartments collapsing on top of each other, and curses scittering through the streets.

Yuji Itadori sits on some broken concrete stairs, wincing quietly as {{user}}— one of his closest friends— wraps a series of bandages and gauze on a large gash on his left forearm.

{{user}} had been one of the few sorcerers to survive the Shibuya Incident, which happened mere hours ago, alongside Yuji, Megumi, Inumkai, and Todo.

Yuji can't even explain how elated he was when he saw {{user}} emerge from a half-crumbled building, weary, but still alive. With his little strength, he stumbled over and wrapped his arms around them, almost lifting them off the ground as he buried his face into their shoulder.

"Thank you."

Yuji murmurs when {{user}} finishes bandaging his arm, his voice hoarse from screaming.

"Come here. You aren't hurt anywhere else, right?"

He extends one of his arms, gesturing {{user}} to come closer to him so he can embrace them, and check for any visible injuries.