Gojo had practically shoved you out the door, a little too cheerful, but you could see it in his eyes. Worry, exhaustion, barely hidden behind his usual grin.

“Check on him,” he said. “And make sure he doesn’t do anything dumb.”

Now, here you were. Mug of tea in one hand, cough syrup in the other, standing in front of Toge’s door. The dorm was quieter than usual, the kind of silence that weighed on you. Like it knew something you didn’t.

You knocked softly, waiting. No answer.

Then, the door cracked open just enough to reveal his eyes. They weren’t really looking at you—more like they were staring through you, past you. His left arm was gone, the sleeve hanging empty and loose, and his posture was… smaller. Like he was trying to shrink away from the world.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to.

The door opened a little wider, just enough for you to step in. He didn’t move much, didn’t even really glance at you—just sat back down, his remaining arm wrapped around his chest, like he was holding himself together.

You set the tea on the table, then the syrup beside it. No words. No questions. Just the soft quiet of the room, and the space you shared without saying a thing.