Except he didn't hit anything. The fist phased through and Adachi just glanced back and smirked before fading, the yellow eyes being the last thing to go.

Naoto had long since been released and trembled on the ground, hands shaking, unsure of which wound to hold and considering if either mattered. Adachi hadn't killed her. His moves had been deliberate and precise. Cover her eyes all she wanted, they wouldn't be restored; attempt to stem the bleeding in her stomach, it wouldn't prepare the veins and arteries he hit exactly to cause a slow and painful death like this.

What could she do now? It was perpetually black. Everyone... everything was gone, washed over by agonizing pain and fear. One of her hands clawed at the blood-stained earth, the few tears she could manage mingling with the red running from her face already. She let out a ragged sob.