I woke up with my face practically glued to the table. The kind of awakening where your brain is still rebooting and for a second you have no idea where — or who — you are. And then the pain hit.
I sat up so fast I nearly knocked over my chair, feeling myself as if checking for missing organs. My ribs? Unbroken. My arm? Still there, no bone sticking out. My face? Nose and teeth fine.
Across from me, Joe raised an eyebrow. He had that unimpressed, tired dad look, like he'd seen this scenario too many times. "So what happened?"
I blinked at him. What happened? Oh, you know, just a friendly little exercise in which Fushiguro Toji turned me into a human stress ball. My brain was replaying the events like a traumatized PowerPoint presentation.
Slide One: Me, Foolishly Thinking I Had a Chance.
Slide Two: Me, being spanked like an unloved piñata.
Slide Three: My body completely gave up on life.
To summarize: Toji beat the crap out of me that he could.
And although it felt like some kind of torture.
In reality, through this, Satoru wanted to know how I think in critical situations. How I analyze information. How quickly I panic and give up. Well, and a couple dozen other metrics.
But there was also something useful for me. Through Toji, Satoru wanted me to see my weaknesses. For me to understand the gap between us. To show me the obstacle I needed to overcome.
And the answer to this was Toji himself.
Yes. I needed to defeat this guy. And what bothered me most was that I actually wanted to beat him. I wanted to knock out all his teeth.
Although there were thoughts that bothered me.
This was just the first step.
And Satoru clearly saw great potential in me.
So somewhere in the future, I would 100% have to face Sukuna. Although, it would hardly be the final test.
I was sure I had to fight Sukuna in his true form. Oh yeah, and Mahoraga would have to be on his team too.
At this point, why stop there? I could have Satoru and Sukuna team up against me. Make it a real test. Maybe throw in Shanks and Kaido.
Okay, that's too much.
Joe was still watching, waiting for an answer. I ran my hand through my hair, wincing at the pain in my shoulder. "Nightmare," I finally muttered.
He snorted. "Yeah. Looks like it."
I exhaled sharply, leaning back in my chair. My body still felt like a crumpled piece of paper. Maybe I should have gone to bed after all?
But remembering its condition, the smell, the small nasty neighbors who were so eager to settle in my hair. I decided that sleeping at the table wasn't so bad.
I looked at the wall and glanced at the clock - it was 11 o'clock in the afternoon. How long had I slept? About 12 hours? Probably even more.
Apparently such a long sleep time is a side effect of training in the inner world.
I stared at Joe, waiting for him to say more.
But he just took a sip of his tea, completely unfazed, as if the pirate attack had been nothing more than a light morning rain.
"So… where's Hana?" I finally asked, because, surprise surprise, she wasn't home.
Joe didn't even blink. "Same place as the others. The funeral."
Oof. Low blow.
I knew people had died. Obviously. The whole pirate attack, explosions, screaming had made that pretty clear. But hearing it said out loud-sucks.
I swallowed. "How many?"
Joe set his cup down with a quiet clink. "Eleven."
Oh. Eleven people.
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to life's deepest questions. Eleven wasn't a huge number—unless, you know, you were counting actual human lives.
If you looked at it from a cold, logical perspective, it was a good trade. Eleven villagers in exchange for an entire pirate crew—almost a hundred thugs. That's a solid ratio in the grand scheme of things.
Except… something in me hated that reasoning.
Because those eleven people could've lived.
If I had made my decision sooner…
Maybe if I had acted faster, or I was braver, more confident, maybe then the number would've been lower. Five? Three? Or even zero.
Thoughts dug into my skull like splinters, sharp and unmovable.
Then, finally, a different voice—my own, not that obnoxious inner critic—spoke up.
I never said I was a hero.
I wasn't some cape-wearing, justice-screaming, perfectly-timed savior. Never signed up for that.
I was just trying to survive.
And the important part? I did. And so did the entire island.
I exhaled, shaking my head. Enough.
I pushed my chair back with a creak. "I need a few people to leave the island with me. And a ship."
Joe studied me for a second, then gave a small nod. "Can take mine."
I narrowed my eyes. "And the crew?"
He leaned back, crossing his arms. "En, Koro, and Alric. They're solid."
I waited. But he didn't say his own name.
"…What about you?" I asked.
"I'm not going."
I frowned. "Why?"
He ran his hand over his face, as if this whole conversation had tired him out. "I don't feel like going back and forth. I'll leave in a week, but for now, we need to dismantle that ship and sell the loot. We don't have enough money yet to do any proper shopping."
I stared at him for a moment, but there wasn't anything shifty in his expression. Just calm certainty.
Fine.
"Okay," I said, standing up. "Then I'll go tell them I've had names."
Joe just nodded. "See you soon."
"Yeah," I replied, heading for the door.