The next morning dawns with an odd surreality. You make it through most of the day in a kind of chilly fog. You can't get warm enough, despite wearing a thick winter coat, a woolen scarf and a pair of gloves. It takes you a few minutes longer to process requests than it normally does, and you can't shake a feeling of dread.

You continue seeing Yuta and your friends, forcing a smile and trying to ignore the sting of hurt seeping into your gut. But when you sit together in the cafeteria or study side by side — something feels off. Uncomfortable.

The politeness is painful, the resulting silence excruciating.

You can barely look at him, because you know that if he looks you in the eye and asks you what's wrong, you'll turn into a mess. What emotion will overflow first? Will it be the hurt aching in your chest? Will it be the sadness burning in your eyes? Will it be the anger seething through you like liquid? But you do know that you'll break into pieces. Edges torn, heart scattered.

And so it goes, for the next week or so, until Shoko barges into the bathroom, where you're hunched over in an absolutely miserable state. You don't know if it's the stress from the past few days, or if it means that you're dying again — and wouldn't that just be freaking peachy — but you pull yourself up to lean over the toilet again when you hear the tell-tale sound of Shoko's heels striking the tiled floor. You retch again and again. Your hands are shaking, your eyes watering and dimmed. There's nothing left in you, but your stomach doesn't seem to care.

Shoko places a bracing hand on the small of your back as she helps you to your feet and over to the sink. You're weak, and your mouth tastes horrible and coppery and acidic, but you don't think you'll puke again, not with Shoko keeping you grounded and her Reverse Cursed Technique flaring to life. "Come on," She says gently. "I need an errand girl. We'll go to Starbucks after."

"You hate Starbucks." You point out, bending over the sink and rinsing out your mouth with water. The nausea and fatigue surge up again briefly, then pales to background static behind your eyes. "You said it tastes like dog pee strained through a trash bag."

A faint smile tugs at the edges of her lips. "Well, I've got a craving. I'll go and get the car."

After making sure that you won't fall, Shoko leaves you alone. You stand in the bathroom for a minute or two, a hand on your stomach, and then you chance a glance in the mirror. You've turned a distinct shade of green, and your hair hangs limply against your shoulders. Well, Shoko knows what she's getting into by asking a chronically ill patient out. You trust that she'll be able to revive you if you keel over. With that cheerful thought in mind, you zip your jacket to your chin, and wind a scarf around your neck.

By the time you make it down to the basement carpark, Shoko's leaning out the window of a silver Toyota, watching as you pick your way carefully over the frozen cobblestones. You get into the passenger seat, and buckle up, as Shoko peels out of the parking lot. The two of you sail out of Jujutsu High, making a beeline for the small town nearby. The school is all the way up in the mountains, so the nearest town is only a half an hour or so by car, but it's a good two hours by foot and bus.

The air is still and freezing cold. The sky is a perfect, pale blue. The sun has just risen, weak and watery-looking, like it's just spilled itself over the horizon and is too lazy to clean itself up. It's supposed to storm later, but you'd never know.

"Shoko," You say, turning towards the window, and watching your breath frost the pane. You aren't sure what drives you to ask this question, just that you do. And the words tumble out of you in a rush. "Have you ever . . . You know. Liked someone? Been in love?"

A soft laugh, a bitter twist of her red-painted lips. "It wouldn't have worked out."

"Why not?"

"I don't think he ever noticed."

"What?"

"That I was there."

And her voice is so soft and melancholic that you don't ask anymore.

The rest of the car ride goes by in silence until Shoko pulls into town and drops you off at the tiny drugstore.

"Just get the usual," Shoko says, her youthful face and tired eyes reflected in the mirror like a piece of sky. "We're running low on supplies, and all the deliveries have been delayed. Clean 'em out."

"Yeah."

"Meet you back here in half an hour?"

"Sure."

Shoko pulls away from the curb without another word, and you duck into the store. You make a beeline for the first-aid aisle, and then head straight for the checkout counter, your basket brimming with essentials. Peroxide, make-shft sutures, gauze, disinfectant . . . Well. You just hope that the clerk won't call the police about you. You know. Since you've cleared out the entirety of the first-aid supplies.

You're met with a disbelieving stare when the clerk sees your purchases, but it's quickly smoothed over into a smile when you fish out the black Amex from the depths of your purse. It's supposed to be used for emergencies, and this technically counts as one, right . . .? Especially since Shoko ditched you without giving you some of that cold, hard cash.

Your father-figure's taking his own sweet time in Switzerland, but you send up a silent thank you to him anyway. Thank you for your money and your sugar-daddy tendencies, thank you, thank you.

Laden down with paper bags, you leave the drugstore. The cold makes your eyes sting, and a sharp pain shoots up your chest. Winter really is the worst season. You tug your scarf tighter around your neck, and it happens just as you're shooting off a series of texts to Shoko.

Hey.

Heyy.

Heyyy.

Im done.

Hi.

Hello.

U good?

XD

Take ur time.

No worries.

I'm totally not freezing out here :))))

Shoko hates it when you flood her phone with messages — something about you and Gojo both being cut from the same cloth — and you can just hear her voice cursing you out in your ear, when you look up. And your phone slips from between your frozen fingers and skitters across the pavement.

This can't be happening.

Not again.

Why is there a veil on the outskirts of town?