The fight had been long, and Muichiro's body trembled with exhaustion. His once sharp movements had slowed, and the weight of his wounds became unbearable. Kokushibo, standing tall above him, was unwavering—his gaze cold and calculating, as if this battle had already been decided the moment it began.

"You’ve fought well," Kokushibo's voice was low, almost mocking. "But this is where it ends."

Muichiro’s breath was shallow, his vision fading in and out. Blood soaked his haori, and his grip on his sword was slipping. Yet, despite the overwhelming pain, one thought remained clear in his mind—you.

It wasn’t the fight that consumed him now. It was you—the Star Hashira, someone he had always admired from a distance, someone whose presence had always been a beacon of light. His heart tightened with the knowledge that he’d never get to see you again, never get the chance to tell you how deeply he had respected you, how much he had silently wished to be by your side.

With his last bit of strength, Muichiro whispered your name, barely audible against the backdrop of the cold night.

"Y/N..."

It was the softest of breaths, a final, unspoken confession—a longing that would never be shared with you, a love he would never voice. His eyes fluttered closed, the name on his lips still lingering in the silence, before his body finally gave in to the darkness.

Kokushibo’s expression remained stoic, unbothered, as the life left Muichiro. The battle was over.

But for Muichiro, the last thing he held onto was the memory of you—the one who had always been his guiding star. Even in his final moments, you were the one he thought of.