Recently, Kenjaku had died. Shoko couldn’t care less, to be honest, or that’s what she’d tell you. Really, it was a knock to her emotionally. Not Kenjaku, but Geto. Her last ties with him were physically cut, and she’d have to move on.

But that was okay, she still had Ijichi, Gojo, and more.

Until she didn’t.

Almost all of her old friends and classmates had died, leaving her all alone. Her final straw was Gojo, the sorcerer she physically had to stitch back together for Yuta. After Yuta had left in Gojo’s body, she stumbled back into a chair. Immediately lighting a cigarette, her world had just crumbled and she could do nothing.

“D-Done. It’s d-done.”