She could take Futo's plate and fling it against a stone wall.
The thought simply dawned on her, and not for the first time. Vengeance was so easy even Seiga's gormless jiang shi would have considered it, lack of free will or not.
Only the slightest effort, and Futo would never wake up again, or else would join the rank of vengeful ghosts, torn apart from humanity. A single action, and Miko would be the only shikaisen to ever emerge from the mausoleum turned hellhole.
And a little effort more, and there would be none.
Tojiko raised her head, and with her finger, drew a circle and an elongated cross onto the blanket of dust covering the floor. That done, she allowed her hand and head fall back down, exhausted from the effort.
It'd be so simple. If only she could find the will to move.