The noise around him kept moving.
Voices. Footsteps. Strategy being discussed somewhere behind him.
But Takeru wasn't really there with them.
He stood still.
Eyes unfocused.
Like his body had stayed in the present, but his mind had stepped somewhere else entirely.
Not the Culling Game.
Not Tokyo Colony.
Not even the conversation happening around Gojo and the others.
Just that night.
Shibuya.
The chaos didn't replay like a clean memory.
It came in fragments.
Too fast. Too loud. Too real.
Then—
voices.
Nobara's.
"…Tell everyone…"
A pause.
Even in memory, it sounded like she was trying to stay composed.
"…That life wasn't so bad."
Takeru's expression didn't change outwardly.
But something in his gaze tightened.
Another voice.
Heavier.
Calmer.
Nanami's.
"…You take it from here."
That one didn't echo.
It landed.
Takeru's hand slowly curled at his side.
Not into a fist for fighting.
Just… holding something that wasn't there.
Behind him, the world kept going.
Hakari's voice faintly carried through.
Yuji saying something.
Gojo replying.
Megumi nearby, quieter than usual.
But Takeru didn't turn.
Because for a moment—
he wasn't thinking about points.
Or domains.
Or cursed techniques.
Just that someone had trusted him with what came after.
He exhaled slowly.
"…Got it."
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't dramatic.
Just final.
And then—
he finally blinked.
The present came back into focus.
But it didn't erase what he heard.
It just sat there now.
Quiet.
Permanent.
Behind him, life continued moving forward.
And for the first time in a while—
so did he.