Kazuma held Mitsuha close, hunched over her protectively, eyes squeezed shut. His heart hammered against his ribs like it was trying to escape. Fear coursed through him in waves—hot and suffocating. The creatures were almost upon them. He could feel it—that oppressive presence closing in, the air growing colder, heavier. This was it. This was how Mitsuha would die. And he couldn't do anything to stop it.
But then—nothing. Silence crashed down like a wave. Kazuma's breath caught. He waited—one second, two, three—but the attack never came. Slowly, hesitantly, he cracked open one eye. The creatures were gone. Just... gone. Vanished as if they'd never existed. The graveyard was empty except for disturbed earth and the lingering metallic scent of blood that still hung in the air. Even the spike that had pierced Mitsuha's back had disappeared, leaving only the wound behind—a dark, wet stain spreading across her uniform.
"Mitsuha?" Kazuma's voice cracked. "Mitsuha, they're—they're gone. We're safe. We—" He looked down at her face, and his words died in his throat. Her hands were trembling. No—her whole body was shaking, violent tremors running through her like she'd been plunged into ice water. Her breathing came in shallow, rapid gasps—short desperate pulls of air that didn't seem to reach her lungs. Her mouth hung open slightly, eyes unfocused and glazed.
"It... hurts..." Her voice was barely a whisper, thin and fragile. "It hurts so much... I feel like... like I'm going to die... aah!" The pain in her voice was raw, real, terrifying.
"No! No no no!" Kazuma's panic exploded. "Mitsuha, hang on! Just hang on, okay!? I'll save you! I'll—I'll kill myself and go back in time and fix everything! I promise!" The words tumbled out desperately. He looked around frantically, searching for something, anything. That's when he saw it—the broken gate, a jagged piece of rebar jutting out at an angle, rust-stained and sharp. Perfect. He tried to move toward it but the handcuffs jerked him back. He stumbled, nearly falling. "Fuck!" He spun back to her. "Mitsuha, can you—can you walk? Just to that gate? Please, it's not far. Just a few steps. Please."
Mitsuha's response came broken, punctuated by gasps. "I... can't... move... aah! The pain—it's getting worse... I can't... ah... ah!" Her breathing became more labored, each breath a desperate struggle. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, seeking air that wouldn't come.
"No. No, I can't leave you like this!" Kazuma's voice cracked. "I'll carry you. We'll go together. Come on, Mitsuha. The gate isn't far. Just hold on!" But then—silence. Complete, terrifying silence. Kazuma's heart stopped. "Mitsuha?" He turned his head slowly, afraid of what he'd see. And there she was—completely still. Too still. Her chest had stopped moving. Her trembling had ceased. She just... stopped.
With shaking hands, he reached up to her neck, fingers fumbling to find a pulse. His hand pressed against her throat—cold skin, no heartbeat, nothing. His face drained of color. Eyes went wide. Mouth fell open in horror. "Hey... Mitsuha?" His voice was barely audible. "Mitsuha... why... why aren't you saying anything?" The question hung in the dead air. "You're... you're dead? How...? MITSUHAAA!"
Sweat dripped from his forehead. His hair fell over his eyes, obscuring his vision. He took one deep, shuddering breath—then grabbed her hand. Gripped it tight. And started dragging her toward the gate, his mind screaming like wildfire. Because of me. I lost Kento because of me. But I won't let you die because of me. I won't. I don't know how far back I'll go this time—I don't know if I can bring back someone who's already dead—but I have to try. I have to save you, Mitsuha.
He reached the gate. Grabbed the rusted rebar with both hands and yanked it toward him. Then, without hesitation, without giving himself time to think or feel or fear—he thrust it into his own throat. Pain exploded. Unimaginable. His body convulsed, spasming wildly. Blood poured hot and fast. The world tilted, spun, dissolved. Screen black.
Darkness. Pure, absolute darkness. Not the darkness of night—something deeper, more complete. The kind of darkness that existed before light was ever created. When Kazuma's eyes opened, he found himself in a closed room. Four walls, no windows, no doors that he could see. Just... nothing. Empty. Silent. He was utterly, completely alone.
He stood up slowly, unsteadily. His voice came out hoarse, frightened. "What... what is this? Where am I?" He spun around, searching. "MITSUHA! MITSUHA!" His shouts echoed back at him, mocking. "Did I... did I actually die this time? Why is it so dark? Is anyone there!? MITSUHA!" His head swam. The room spun. Or maybe he was spinning. He couldn't tell anymore. His legs gave out and he collapsed to the floor—or what he thought was the floor. He couldn't even be sure of that anymore.
Somewhere else. Somewhere real. The sound of fireflies filled a park, their tiny lights blinking on and off like dying stars. Butterflies danced lazily between flowers, wings catching the late afternoon sun. Everything was peaceful. Tranquil. Normal. Then—a violent jolt.
Mitsuha's eyes snapped open. Her heart slammed into her ribcage, pounding so hard she thought it might burst through her chest. She gasped for air like she'd been drowning, each breath painful and desperate. Cold sweat soaked through her uniform. Her hands shook uncontrollably. She was sitting on a public bench in the park. The sun was still up. People walked by casually, completely unaware. It was as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn't just died.
She reached back slowly, trembling fingers touching her back where the spike had pierced through. Nothing. No wound. No blood. Just intact skin beneath her uniform. "What the..." She turned her head and—there. Sitting right next to her, unconscious, head tilted back against the bench. Kazuma. Their hands were still cuffed together, the metal digging into her wrist.
"Hey. Kazuma." She shook his shoulder. "Kazuma. KAZUMA, WAKE UP!" His eyes flew open. The moment he saw her, he literally screamed. "MITSUHA!" He grabbed her shoulders, eyes wild. "You're alive! Oh my god, you're alive! It worked! I saved you! Oh—oh wait, sorry, you probably don't remember anything because I went back in time so that moment hasn't happened yet for you. See, what happened was—"
"I know." He stopped mid-sentence. Blinked. "...What?" "I said I know." Mitsuha's voice was eerily calm. "We were digging up Arisa's grave. Then fireworks started. But they turned into blood—blood rain. And then those creatures appeared. Eleven or twelve of them, I think. They attacked us with those black spikes." She paused, her hand unconsciously moving to her back again. "One of them hit me. And I... I died." She said it so matter-of-factly, like she was discussing the weather. "I remember everything."
The color drained from Kazuma's face. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. "You... you remember? Everything?" His voice climbed higher with each word. "That's impossible! That's never happened before! How—" He grabbed her shoulders again, shaking slightly. "Did it hurt? When you were dying, did you feel the pain?"
Mitsuha looked at him with those cold, unreadable eyes. "Yeah. Probably." A beat of silence. "...That's it? 'Probably'?" Kazuma stared at her in disbelief. "You DIED, Mitsuha! You were in pain, you couldn't breathe, you—"
"Enough with the questions." She cut him off, standing up abruptly and pulling him with her via the handcuffs. "I need to use the bathroom." Kazuma's face turned bright red. "W-what? Bathroom? Mitsuha, you do realize our hands are literally chained together, right? How are you going to—"
"Don't overthink it." Her voice had that dangerous edge now. "You're going to put your hand behind your back, stand outside the stall door, and keep your face turned away. And if you even THINK about looking back—" She leaned in close, eyes glinting. "—oh wait, sorry. You can't die, can you? So instead, I'll just ruin that pretty face of yours so badly even your own reflection won't recognize you. And I'll make sure you live through every second of it."
Kazuma's soul left his body. "You... you can't be serious..." She smiled sweetly. Too sweetly. "Here. Take this handkerchief and cover your hair. We're going to the ladies' room." "WHAT!?" He jumped up so fast he nearly pulled her over. "Your brain has actually malfunctioned! There is NO WAY I'm doing that! Forget it! Absolutely not!" Mitsuha's smile didn't waver. In fact, it got wider. More terrifying. "You don't have a choice."
Five minutes later, Kazuma found himself standing in the ladies' bathroom, handkerchief wrapped around his head covering most of his hair and part of his face. He was pressed against the wall outside a stall, one hand stretched awkwardly behind him through the door gap, eyes screwed shut, face burning with embarrassment. This was it. This was how he'd be remembered. Not as the boy who survived death. Not as someone who fought supernatural creatures. But as the pervert who snuck into the women's bathroom.
"Mitsuha..." he whispered desperately. "How much longer...? Please say something..." Silence. Then—voices. Female voices. Approaching. Oh no. Oh god no.
"—and you know what? Actor Masao Fujiwara is coming to Tokyo!" "WHAT!? Are you serious!? Oh my god, he's SO handsome! I have to go see him! My Masao!" Two high school girls in uniform walked in, completely absorbed in their conversation. They hadn't noticed him yet. Maybe—just maybe—if he stayed completely still, they wouldn't—
ACHOO! Kazuma sneezed. Violently. The handkerchief flew off his head, fluttering to the ground like a white flag of surrender. The girls froze. Turned. Saw him. Their eyes went wide. Faces turned red. And then—
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! THERE'S A BOY IN HERE!" The taller one screamed so loud the mirrors rattled. "No no no, you've got it all wrong!" Kazuma raised his hands defensively. "I can explain! This is a misunderstanding! I—"
SPLASH! A bottle of hand soap hit him square in the face. "PERVERT!" SMACK! Paper towel dispenser. "GET OUT! GET OUT YOU SHAMELESS CREEP!" They pelted him with everything they could grab—soap bottles, paper towels, even their school bags.
"Wait! Stop! Listen—OW!" Then the second girl gasped. "Wait... isn't that... isn't that Kazuma!? The one who ran away from school after making that scene!?" She whipped out her phone. "Oh my god, this is GOLD! Wait till everyone sees this!" CLICK! CLICK! CLICK! Multiple photos, flash going off like a disco ball.
"That's him! He makes a scene at school, runs away, and now he's here in the girls' bathroom!? What a disgusting person!" The taller one had her phone out too now. "I'm posting this EVERYWHERE. Let's see how he explains THIS!"
The stall door swung open. Mitsuha stepped out calmly, as if she hadn't just left Kazuma to be verbally and physically assaulted. She looked at him—face covered in soap, hair disheveled, looking absolutely defeated—and sighed. "You couldn't even keep your face covered properly."
"MITSUHA!" Kazuma's voice cracked with desperation. "You came out too late! We've been caught! They took photos! What do we do!?"
Mitsuha glanced at the two girls, then back at Kazuma. Then she stepped forward, positioning herself between them. Her entire demeanor shifted—from casual to dangerous in the span of a heartbeat. When she spoke, her voice was low, almost a purr, but with steel underneath. "Kazuma, stop panicking over two little mice. You don't need to be scared of them." She turned to face the girls fully, and something about her expression made them instinctively take a step back. "Now then. How about you two hand over those phones? Or better yet—delete those photos right now."
The taller girl tried to sound brave but her voice wavered. "W-what kind of joke is this? You think we're going to listen to you just because you—" Mitsuha's smile grew. Not a nice smile. Not a friendly smile. A smile that promised pain. "Oh, I wasn't asking. And I know you two won't do it willingly. That's fine." She took a step forward, and both girls instinctively clutched their phones tighter. "That's why I'm going to have to do something you'll remember for the rest of your lives."
Kazuma leaned close to her ear, whispering urgently. "What are you planning to do?" Mitsuha's smile somehow got even more terrifying. "Something that a coward like you would never have the guts to do." Then, louder, she called out sweetly. "Come here, cutie pies. Let me give you both a little makeover."
Both girls' faces went pale. They pressed back against the sinks, phones held protectively. "S-stay back! Don't come any closer! We mean it!" But Mitsuha kept walking forward, slow and deliberate, like a cat stalking cornered prey. And behind her, Kazuma could only watch with mounting dread, wondering what the hell his partner in this nightmare was about to do.