Prologue: You'll always die alone.
The ground itself was soldered in heat; what used to be buildings were reduced to mere rubble that littered the ground. It was the city of Shinjuku, barren and desolate; the attack that leveled the city was so potent that it could erase reality itself. It was a battlefield leveled by the strongest in history; such a show of might could never escape the grasp of a human's perception.
"I won." Sweet words; it came from a man hailed as the strongest of today - Satoru Gojo; his eyes that seemed to glimmer, looked at his seemingly fallen enemy. His hair as white as snow danced along the ash-ridden air; a smile filled with confidence split his bloodied face.
But to his surprise, the former strongest - Ryomen Sukuna, stood head-high; a smirk that countered the winner split his half-burned face. "You forgot something." He said in condescendance as he stood, revealing his burnt body; he waved his hand as if he had no care in the world.
The strongest realized that something was off. His smirk quickly turned into an emotionless stare as his arm plopped down at his side, limp as a stick. Suddenly, blood began to flow like a faucet; the glimmer in his eyes was deemed non-existent.
"W-wha?" A pink-haired boy let out; he wore a black long sleeve shirt resembling a gakuran over a red hoodie, black pants, and red shoes.
They were shocked; Satoru Gojo should have already won.
But no one could have predicted what happened next; it happened too fast. In a single motion, Gojo's half was torn from his body; it left a stump spewing blood.
"IMPOSSIBLE!" They screamed; the hope they had finally dissipated; their hope's limp body lay on the ground swimming in blood.
"TEACHER!" The students screamed in unison. They broke out and wailed; their teacher and their only key to achieving victory were taken away from them. But only one remained indifferent; he smirked as lightning cackled at his fingertips.
"IT'S MY TURN NOW!" The air seemed to distort from the sheer cursed energy he emitted; his long cyan-colored hair tied together in two buns levitated as if guided by his aura. His haori irregularly followed the wind's direction as he instantaneously charged to the battle-field.
"KASHIMO!" It was too late; he had already left.
It only spread silence that could not seem to be shaken.
"Y'know, why don't you guys follow him?" The pink-haired boy suggested suspiciously, breaking the atmosphere that plagued them. "I'm the weakest here, I'll only serve to be a roadblock for all of you." He murmured; he craned his body and clasped his fists. "But you guys are capable of taking that bastard on."
"Itadori…"
"He's right." The boy with disheveled black hair nodded in agreement; he wore a loose white uniform jacket with long sleeves and jeans tucked into white sneakers. "I'll avenge our teacher." He declared to his friends with narrowed eyes that seemed to emit the darkest of forces. "...He can't keep getting away with what he has done." He hissed in anger; tears welled up in his eyes.
Then, he unsheathed the sword in his back; its sharpness drawing sparks.
He made it life's goal to protect everyone he cherished and Satoru Gojo was one of them; he simply cannot accept his untimely death, not against a calamity as rageful and destructive as The King of Curses - Ryomen Sukuna.
He gritted his teeth as he hand tapped his shoulder in reassurance; it was his friend, his ally for the longest time. "Maki…" He let out; it was hard to hold off the tears that plagued his eye-sight.
"It's alright, Okkotsu." Maki reassured him; her shortened hair followed the trail of cursed energy her friend was emitting. "On the bright-side, you're the strongest now."
"I am not the strongest Zenin-Senpai. I will never be." He chuckled; the anger brewing within calmed down; its storm subsided as his cursed energy output lowered.
"So…" Maki turned her head with a smile on her lips. "Let's go?"
A/N: This was made to honor the death of Satoru Gojo in the recent chapters.