"I'm sure. So while you're holding me back, well... they're dying."

But before they can react, Fushiguro pushes Itadori away and throws himself back just in time to dodge a huge burst of energy—of, of cursed energy. Not a jujutsu technique, just pure, undiluted energy. He has... never seen something like this, something this strong.

"Fushiguro!"

That is... too much... he's going to die, the curse is laughing at him and he's going to die...

"Fushiguro-kun! Fushiguro!"

He's going to die. Itadori is going to die, or he's going to give in to Sukuna and that will be worse than death—he should never have come in, he should never—

Itadori slaps him, having at some point found himself on top of him. "Inori," he yells

and Fushiguro snaps out of it and looks at him.

"Find Hayashi and leave. Now. No, shut up, don't interrupt me. That thing is clearly having fun, yes I may die but it's whatever, just run, I will keep it distracted and once you and Hayashi are out give me, give me some signal and I will swap with Sukuna—"

"You are going to die."

"Then let it be just me instead of all three of us. Fushiguro-kun, please."

He looks at the curse, clearly having the time of its life, laughing and swaying from side to side, then at Itadori—

—he runs.

The curse watches him go but doesn't stop him, and just grins more widely at Itadori. "Just you and me, now, eh, boyo?" asks Itadori. "—you are a boyo, right? I'm just saying, you got the pecs and all—"

It's too fast. Again. The curse swipes up with one arm, and the wave of cursed energy is enough to throw Itadori all the way across the courtyard to the wall.

Okay, fuck, he might die.

He blinks the dizziness out of his eyes and tries to look at the curse again, only to see it mere inches away from him, one hand glowing with more cursed energy—

—it slams that hand against him, and he's through the wall, and oh now he knows how Fushiguro must have felt the day they met when he was fighting that curse, he thinks idly as his body ping pongs along the floor before skidding to a painful stop. That is far too much momentum, and why is he thinking of his physics lessons at a time like this, he should be—getting up—he can't move, can't open his eyes, can't get up—everything hurts—he can hear the creature's claws clicking against the floor as it slowly walks towards him—it's having fun, the bastard—

—he has to get up, it's charging something, he needs to stop it—he's up, both arms forward, he needs to stop it, he knows how to project cursed energy so maybe if he, if he does that he'll be able to hold on—

—he can't, the energy is too much, it burns, it hurts, it's eating at his fingers, he only has five of them now he doesn't want to lose them too, but the curse doesn't care, it doesn't matter how much he tries to stop it, it burns his fingers are stubs, it burns it burns it hurts—

—he can't—

His black demon dog is still alive, so he can still track Hayashi, fuck being careful he's sprinting, and there he is, there she is—

He hears her laughing before he sees her. It is… more than a little deranged.

“Why are you running, I thought you wanted to play?!” echoes a voice coming down the twisting corridor. A curse comes barreling through the wall, and then a barrage of needles turn a corner to impale it. It starts dissipating, and then Hayashi rounds the corridor.

“Fushiguro-san,” she says, and her smile is unnerving and her voice is coming out measured and business-like. “Oh, good. Itadori-san?”

That... was terrifying and slightly arousing and he would like to stop being a teenager any minute now is fine thanks.

"Buying us time. We need to leave."

There is the briefest of pauses as she takes this in.

“Damn,” she says, in the same tone of voice. “Exit direction? It’s been slippery, and I need to get close. I can only do this once.”

He nods and takes them there. For a mercy the edge is not too far.

She gives a nod, then holds her hands vertically facing each other, one hand over the other, palms and fingers straight.

"Stay close. Domain expansion:

  "Shattered Reflection."

And the world breaks. Around them, everything cracks like broken glass and slides away, in different directions. The bizarre dark industrial architecture is gone, replaced by reflections of reflections of reflections, repeated in the shattered mirror that is their new reality. There is light, there is darkness, there are reflections of them from a thousand different angles. They stand a hundred times over in a broken infinity.

"This way," says Hayashi, and she takes Fushiguro's hand and leads him through the fragmented funhouse. It is like walking normally, and it is like watching yourself walk in a thousand different directions.

Then she releases his hand, releases the technique, and they are back outside. On the other side of the barrier. Reality makes sense again.

He lets out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding then says, "There is no way you're a grade 3." Then he blinks and looks at his dog, who howls, loudly, more loudly than a dog should be able to. "Please don't die," he says under his breath, to no one in particular.

His comment earns the faintest hint of a real smile from her, and then the mention of death has her back to her brutally efficient business mode.

"Ijichi-san," she says neutrally, spotting him hovering anxiously nearby. Oh. Good. That'll sort out her first question.

Then, with much less neutrality, she stalks towards him and grabs him by the collar to drag him to eye level with her and ask in a cold and even voice, "Did you know?"

He looks to be in a panic. "Kn-know what, Hayashi-san?" he stutters.

Hayashi stares him down. She does not release his collar. It might be noticeable that her other hand holds her fan, which is. Very sharp.

"Who sanctioned this fiasco?" she asks, almost pleasantly.