Unmatched | ᴍᴀʜɪᴛᴏ

Chapter 43

Itadori was stronger than me. There was no use denying it. Blood was running down my forehead and down the side of my face, dripping off my eyelashes when I blinked. I wiped my face with my arm, only to prevent the blood from getting into my eye. My hands were bleeding, too, but so were his. I don't know who put more damage to whom, but it was very certain that I was at a disadvantage.

He was smart, too. I supposed Gojo had prepared him for this. He must have. Because Itadori was forcing me into a corner, away from the dead people all around me. He was trying to prevent me from doing what Mahito had told me to do: using people's cursed energy to gain strength. But seeing the dozens of corpses brought enough pride and strength for me to continue fighting. I will not lose this fight. I will not leave Mahito.

"Where are they?" I asked him again before hitting him with black flash, blood sprouting from his arm.

Itadori slipped away and created some distance between us. He held his arm while breathing heavily. "There's another curtain outside of this one. This one is made to keep you in. The bigger one is made to keep them in."

So, if this curtain was made only to keep me in, then that meant that it wasn't so strong from the outside. So Mahito could get in here. He could get to me. Only I couldn't get to him. If Gojo was out there, Mahito probably wouldn't fight him. And Itadori, the person who Mahito did want to fight, was in here with me. So maybe he would get here. Maybe he would run. But he wouldn't run without me. I hoped. Yet I couldn't be certain. I didn't know if Mahito valued my life more than his. I didn't want to know. Because I valued his more than mine. And if losing to Itadori meant keeping Mahito safe, then I would want to lose over and over.

Itadori closed in on me again, and I took a step toward him. He was fast. Too fast for me to catch up with, but I was smarter than him. I had trained with Mahito. I was using different ways of attack. Ways Itadori had never dreamed of. Ways not even the other cursed spirits could keep up with. Only Geto had been able to stop me when we had been training. He had been hellbent on making me stronger than the other sorcerers. He wanted me to stay with Mahito because he knew that if I wouldn't, something bad would happen. He knew it, and I knew it, too. Lucky for all of us, they had made me incredibly strong and, more importantly, I would always and forever want to stay with Mahito.

I punched Itadori in the back, I slid beneath his arm and punched him in the ribs. He buckled over and spat out blood, but at the same time, his right hook connected with my kidney, and I screamed out. I just needed to get some distance between us. I needed to get away from him, otherwise I wouldn't stand a chance. It already took everything I had, and I knew that if I wouldn't get some cursed energy soon, I might burn out.

"Do you remember our movie nights?" I asked.

Just as I had intended, Itadori was surprised and distracted for only a split second, but that was all I needed to hurry out of his reach. I knew that he could get to me in a heartbeat, but this gave me a moment to breathe and gather my strength.

"I have tickets to Human Earthwom 4 for tomorrow," I continued, breathing heavily.

We had watched the first three movies together. Several times. Fushiguro had hated only our summary of the movies, and he had been too disgusted to watch only a single second of it. He had called it "trash." Kugisaki also wasn't interested. But I loved the movies. And I had loved how much Itadori loved them. It wasn't a lie that I had tickets, I really did.

I pressed my hand to the wound in my side, trying to stop the bleeding, but it was no use. The flow of blood was too strong, spraying through my fingers. I gritted my teeth.

"I don't care," Itadori said.

"Yes, you do," I replied.

I knew that he cared. He had never been good at keeping his emotions out of his eyes, and right now, they were filled with anger and sorrow and sadness. He might be angry at me, yes, and he might hate me, but he had once liked me. We had once been soulmates. There was no getting over something like that.