Time slipped quietly by, and the night deepened. Before they knew it, it was past midnight.
The entire hotel was silent. The lights in most rooms were already out, their occupants asleep.
Utahime Iori had long since fallen into a deep sleep, her breathing steady. Shoko had not fallen soundly asleep; she leaned by the window, quietly watching the streets late at night.
In the stillness of the night, heavy footsteps slowly approached from the far end of the hallway, dragging and weary, without any of their usual lightness or briskness.
Shoko got up, opened the door, and left the room.
Under the dim hallway lights, Qingxiao stood alone in the corridor, looking somewhat bedraggled, his clothes dusty and his hair disheveled.
Most unsettling of all were his eyes. Once steady and bright, they had gone utterly dull, filled with impenetrable sorrow and gloom, lifeless and without a trace of light.
"Qingxiao? You're here." Shoko spoke softly, clear concern in her voice. "Why do you look like this? Did something happen?"
In the next room, Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto were also woken by the faint disturbance. They opened the door and came out. Seeing Qingxiao looking so utterly lost, the smiles vanished from their faces, and their expressions darkened.
Qingxiao was shrouded in profound grief and exhaustion, as though every last bit of vitality had been drained from him. He stood silently where he was, the atmosphere around him so oppressive it was hard to breathe.
Facing the three concerned gazes, Qingxiao's Adam's apple bobbed several times. His voice hoarse and dry, laden with exhaustion and pain, he delivered the devastating news one word at a time:
"Nagayumi Jin... is dead."
Those few short words exploded like thunder in the silent corridor.
Satoru Gojo's pupils contracted slightly. His casual