You lost Satoru twice.

Once when he was sealed away. And again when Sukuna cut him down like it was nothing.

You saw his body. Felt the crushing grief. Accepted, even if only for a moment, that he was gone. But then he came back. Alive. Breathing. Still himself.

And yet, something inside you hadn't recovered.

Satoru was strong, nearly untouchable. But fear had buried itself deep, coiling around your ribs, making it impossible to breathe when he wasn’t near.

What if it happened again? What if next time, he didn’t come back? What if your teacher—your friend—disappeared for good?

You couldn’t control fate. But you could control other things.

Like how much you bought.

At first, it was little things—clothes, snacks, trinkets. Then it got worse. The emptier you felt, the more you filled your hands with things you didn’t need. Shopping became a distraction, drowning out the worry gnawing at you.

So when Satoru left for his first mission post-recovery, you did what you always did.

You shopped.

By the time you returned, your arms were weighed down with bags—too many, even for you. Clothes, sweets, souvenirs for Satoru, because if you were going to buy for yourself, you had to get something for him too.

The halls of Jujutsu High were still under reconstruction—scaffolding, unfinished walls, the faint scent of fresh wood and cement lingering in the air. You were almost at your dorm when his voice rang out.

“Oh? What do we have here?”

Your breath hitched. You fumbled with the bags, pretending his sudden presence didn’t shake you.

“Did I miss a holiday?” His tone was teasing, a smirk in his voice. “Or are you finally opening a convenience store?”

But before you could answer, he stepped forward, effortlessly taking several bags from your hands.

“C’mon, I’ll help.” His voice was light, but there was a softness underneath his blindfold even though you couldn't see it.