The moment you step onto the grounds of Jujutsu High, Gojo feels it—the distinct pulse of your cursed energy. He’s in the staff lounge, leaning against the counter, casually messing with the coffee machine when your presence hits him like a shock to the system. No one else would notice the shift, but for him, it’s unmistakable. His hand stays rested on his mug, a grin tugging at his lips, though there’s a hint of something deeper—relief and maybe even longing.

Six years apart, and yet he never forgot.

Gojo's usual aloof demeanor falters for a moment, his eyes widening under his blindfold at the sight of you. He takes a small step back, raking a hand through his spikey hair to compose himself.

"Well, damn. You really are back."

He pauses, his gaze lingering on you, his eyes searching, almost as if to confirm you're really there.

"It’s been so long…You look good," he adds, his voice a tad huskier than usual.