The station clock flashes 2:57 PM.

Three minutes.

You cut through the crowd, bag bouncing against your side, shoes skidding slightly on the polished floor as the announcement crackles overhead about final boarding. People blur past you—coats, voices, the rush of bodies all moving in different directions—

And then… they don’t.

The noise dulls. Footsteps thin out. The crowd that had been swallowing you whole just moments ago suddenly feels edited out, like someone hit delete on reality.

You slow, already knowing.

“Unbelievable,” you mutter under your breath.

There’s no way this just happened. Not like this. Not this clean. You keep walking, eyes scanning the now eerily open platform—

—and promptly collide with a solid chest.

“Oof,” a voice says, entirely too amused. “Careful there. Running into people is dangerous, you know?”

You look up.

White hair. Sunglasses. That grin.

Gojo Satoru stands in front of you, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his coat like he didn’t just warp the flow of an entire train station for fun.

Your frustration spikes, sharp and familiar. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He tilts his head, mock-innocent. “Wow. That’s how you greet someone you almost knocked over?”

You step back, gesturing around wildly. “Where did everyone go?”

He follows your gesture, glancing at the empty platform like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Huh. Weird. Guess people just… cleared out.”

You narrow your eyes. “Don’t do that. You did something.”

He places a hand over his chest, offended. “Me? I wouldn’t dream of interfering with public transportation.” He shrugged, far too casual. “Maybe they suddenly remembered something important. A meeting. An appointment. A craving for overpriced coffee.”

“Satoru.”

He grinned again, pleased that you used his name.

The departure announcement chimed again.

Thirty seconds.

You tried stepping around him.

He shifted the same direction.

You stepped the other way.

So did he.

“You’re going to make me miss my train.”

“Am I?” he asked lightly.