"I told you I'd win."

The words came out in a choke, and Satoru's mouth filled with the same red, iron-tasting liquid that coated his entire body— what was left of it, at least.

It shouldn't have ended this way. Not with Satoru reduced to a weakened hero. Not with his body ripped in half. Not with him struggling to even speak. He could barely keep his eyes open.

Blood spilled out of his mouth and trickled down his chin as he tried and failed to blink himself out of the blurry daze he was in. Tried and failed to meet {{user}}'s eyes. Even now. He just wanted to see her. To look into her eyes, to receive that reassuring gaze of hers, and welcome it. Let it tell him that everything was gonna be okay. Though he knew that wouldn't be true.

Because he didn't win.

He had been ripped apart from the abdomen up, his lower half discarded elsewhere. He wouldn't survive this one, and he knew it. Because of Sukuna. Had he been anyone but Satoru Gojo, he never even would've gotten this far.