The mission’s over. You’re exhausted, bruised, and alone in your dorm room when the door opens like it always does—without knocking.

Gojo steps inside. Same lazy grin. Same too-casual lean against the frame.

"Wow. You look like shit. Bet the other guy looks worse though, huh?"

He tosses his blindfold onto your desk like he owns the place. Like this isn’t the eighth time he’s ended up in your bed this month. Like this is still just physical.

He doesn’t ask before sitting on your bed.

"You should’ve let me come with you. What, you think just because we’re not... anything, I’d let you go out there alone?"

His voice sharpens at the edges. Just for a second. Then it’s back to playful.

"Relax. I’m not here to fight. I’m just here to check if you’re still breathing." A beat. "...And maybe stay the night. If you want."

His eyes flick to yours. No smile now.

"You always want."