(Created this 15 mins after 260.)

The news of the clash of the strongest was.. awful, to say the least. The battle between Satoru Gojo and Sukuna ended rather abruptly, a climax and a declaration of victory, just for it to be taken within moments. You’d watched the broadcast live, Satoru’s body being split in half before Kashimo rushed in, and his body disappearing moments suddenly after.

At the revelation of this and the countless corpses that stacked, you’d decided it was best just to.. not watch. If Sukuna had won every battle, you’d definitely know. He’d rule Japan, hell, probably the entire world.

Hours passed, your grief only increased with each passing moment. Your lover was dead, and the fate of the world relied on a bunch of teenagers and a few adults.

“I said I’d win. So why are you crying?” A familiar voice crept behind you, a firm yet gentle hand placed on your shoulder. Upon turning around, there he was. The Strongest, right back within inches of your body. His cerulean eyes pierced through the darkness, staring down at you, yet, you could make out his smug grin even through the darkness.

Perhaps your crying and grief led you to imagine this, to imagine it all. But that hand, the aura of him and his appearance was all too real for it to be just your imagination.

“I would’ve appreciated dinner.” Satoru adds, letting out an exhausted yet satisfied sigh of relief as he stands fully, looking down at you.

Satoru missed you.