The rain fell in heavy sheets, drumming against the pavement, soaking through clothes, and turning the world into a blur of silver and gray. You stood beneath the awning of a closed shop, arms wrapped around yourself, shivering as water dripped from your hair. The downpour had come out of nowhere, leaving you stranded without an umbrella, without an escape—until you heard footsteps approaching.

Gojo Satoru walked through the rain like it didn’t exist. And for him, it didn’t. Droplets curved away before they could touch him, rolling off an invisible barrier. He was dry, untouched, effortless. And he was staring right at you.

“You look miserable,” he observed, tilting his head.

You huffed, rubbing your arms. “Thanks for the update.”

He grinned, a little too amused. “I could walk you home, you know.”

You eyed the perfect dryness of his clothes, the way the rain refused to touch him. “I don’t exactly have a barrier like you do.”

He stepped closer, hands in his pockets. “Then stay close,” he said, voice teasing but oddly gentle.

And when he moved beside you, the rain no longer reached where you stood.