The train had been moving for hours, dragging itself across the country like some old, stubborn animal. Outside the window, the scenery blurred between endless stretches of forest, sleepy towns, and occasional flashes of river. The sky had started to darken, not quite evening, but the kind of late afternoon that made everything feel slower.

Across from you, Yuji Itadori was stretched out like he had nothing in the world to worry about. One earbud dangling, one sock slightly mismatched, his head tilted back against the seat. He wasn’t asleep; his eyes would flick toward you every so often, quick and unassuming.

“You’ve been staring out that window for two prefectures now,”

He finally said, breaking the silence. When you didn't answer, he nudged the edge of your shoe with his.