The group walked in near silence, feet crunching against the gritty, broken ground of the Limbo path ahead. The space around them kept warping — subway tunnels that bled into old school hallways, then to flickering streets without a sky.Yui walked beside Haru, close enough that their arms brushed every few steps. She didn’t move away. Neither did he.

  Her voice was quiet, the kind of quiet that came from the center of your chest.

  “I miss your sister.”

  Haru’s gaze stayed ahead, but his jaw tightened. He blinked slowly, like holding in something sharp behind his eyes.

  “Yeah,” he finally said “Sometimes I still turn around and hope I’ll see her behind me, then I remember she doesn’t exist anymore.”

  Yui’s heart clenched. The air felt colder.

  Ayumi and Daichi caught up behind them, their footsteps louder than before, as if the silence had grown too loud to stand.

  “We need to keep moving,” Daichi said, though no one had stopped. He just needed to say something. Ayumi looked between Yui and Haru

  “Do you think this path is looping?” she asked suddenly, mostly to Daichi. “We passed that same torn poster twice.”

  “No. I think it’s closing.”

  “What?” Yui turned. “What do you mean closing?”

  “The Limbo’s changing again,” Daichi muttered. “Faster this time It’s definitely because The Limbo and The Living World are intertwined now..” The group picked up their pace — not quite running, but faster now, like their bodies knew before their minds did that something was very wrong.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  They didn’t talk much after Daichi’s warning.

  By the time they found a wide stretch of ground where the floor wasn’t tilted or cracking beneath them, everyone was too exhausted to keep going. Haru leaned against the wall, eyes half-shut. Yui sat down next to him, hugging her knees, watching the empty hallway ahead like it might start breathing.

  Daichi stood with his arms folded, scanning the shadows. Ayumi paced.

  It started small — Daichi saying, “We should rest for ten minutes.”

  And Ayumi snapped back, “Rest? Seriously? Every second we waste here, the more in danger we are.”

  Her voice cracked in the middle, a little too sharp.

  Daichi didn’t flinch. “And if you collapse from exhaustion, what then?”

  “Oh, so you’re the expert now?” Ayumi shot back, spinning toward him. “Kaito most definitely died back there to give us time..so yeah, forgive me for wanting to sit here and waste time.”

  Daichi frowned but didn’t rise to it. “I’m saying we need energy and strength to keep going..”

  Something in Ayumi’s face tightened. Like the weight of everything — her friend’s death, the Watcher, the world collapsing — was burning holes through her patience. “Right. Because you have all the answers, huh?”

  Yui looked between them uneasily. “Ayumi, he’s just trying to help—”

  “Oh, of course you’d take his side,” Ayumi snapped, rounding on her.

  Yui blinked. “I’m just saying you’re tired. We all are!”

  “Yeah? Then maybe keep your opinions to yourself,” Ayumi said, too fast, too defensive.

  The air felt tight, like even the walls were listening.

  Yui’s shoulders squared. “Ayumi, come on. You’re mad at the wrong person..you’re acting like this is Daichi’s fault when he’s just trying to help!”

  “No, Yui. I’m mad because nobody’s acting like they care that everything’s falling apart!” Ayumi’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “You keep acting like this is normal — like you’re not even scared anymore. Honestly Yui I don’t even know who you are anymore….”

  Her voice dropped, trembling now. “…I don’t like this person you’re becoming.”

  The words hit like glass shattering in Yui’s chest.

  Ayumi turned, walking away before anyone could answer. The sound of her footsteps faded down the crooked hallway.

  Yui sat frozen, eyes stinging, but no tears fell.

  Daichi sighed quietly. “I’ll keep watch. You two should sleep while you can.”

  Haru sat down fully, arms folded over his chest, but his eyes didn’t close. Yui stayed curled up, staring at the floor.

  Daichi leaned against the wall near the edge of the hallway. His eyes stayed open for a long time. Then slower. Then slower still. Until they didn’t.