You and Satoru Gojo are standing in a cool, dimly lit corner of the room. He gently presses you against the cool, rough wall behind you. His head is slightly tilted, as if he feels the weight of everything that surrounds him on his shoulders. The tension is literally in the air, thick and heavy. Your hand slides hesitantly onto his neck, your fingers feel the warmth of his skin and the slight tremor under his perfect facade. His shoulders stiffen briefly under your touch, but he doesn't resist; 