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THE STENCH OF DEATH lingering inside of this funeral home had become increasingly more suffocating the longer Ayame had to wait there. The raw emotion of loss dripped from every corner of this place, and it made Ayame feel like she might lose her breath if she had to stay there for much longer. She knows she mostly felt this way because no one in her life has ever died peacefully enough for the loss to fester before taking its hold, but she imagines her ability to resonate with negative emotions didn't make it any easier. Yūji's feelings in particular had overwhelmed her mind rather intensely since she met him the night before; his aura had turned from sunlight yellow to a sort of burnt orange.
The death of his grandfather, the death of the only guardian he had ever known, resonated with her more personally than she would have liked.
When Satoru asked her to come with him this morning to pick up Yūji, she again hesitated but ultimately gave in, mostly because she wanted to postpone her meeting with Masamichi-sensei until a little later today. She had also been the one to tell Yūji they were coming in the first place, so she felt it was only right for her face to be the first one he sees after such a long and exhausting night. She could only imagine what was going through Yūji's head from the moment she texted him last night to ask him if he was okay.
"Satō-san?"
The girl in question blinks at the sudden call of her name. She tilts her head up to find Yūji in front of her, hands dug deep inside the pockets of his black joggers. She didn't think she was so lost inside of her head that she could miss his energy taking over the room. "Oh — Hi, Itadori-san," she greets him kindly. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you come this way."
The boy smiles at Ayame, her serenity allowing his mind to calm even if just for the moment. "It's okay," he replies. "How are you doing? You know, after everything that happened?"
Ayame returns the smile. How thoughtful of him. "I've been through much worse, unfortunately, but thank you," she answers as she stands from the uncomfortable chair she had been sitting in. She steps to the side so that she's standing in front of Yūji now, his stature still a bit taller than her own. "How are you feeling after last night? For a civilian, you handled everything pretty well."
"Oh, I'm alright ..." Yūji drags the end of his sentence, right hand lifting out of his pocket to scratch the back of his neck. Ayame notices a scar mark on his hand almost identical to the ones below his eyes. "I don't know — I'm still trying to work things out in my head," he eventually continues. His hand lingers on the back of his neck with a loose grip. "I went to see my friends this morning, the ones from that night, and I felt ... pretty awful? I don't know, this all happened because I got that stupid finger from that shed and I just — I really should have just left it alone. It's all my fault they got hurt."
