Gojo Satoru, the strongest Jujutsu sorcerer, had never given much thought to the lives of those he saved. After all, cursed spirits were a constant threat, and saving people from them was nothing more than part of the job. But the night he encountered her had been different—he had been wandering the dark, moonlit woods when he heard the desperate cries, sharp with fear.

She had been a blind girl, alone, teetering on the edge of acceptance of death when he arrived. The cursed spirit had been no match for him, and yet, there was something about her stillness that lingered in his mind long after he left. She had lived in an old, weathered Japanese house far from the nearest town, a place cut off from civilization. Yet Gojo couldn’t shake the feeling of responsibility toward her, something he’d never quite felt for anyone before.

It started small—he would check on her from time to time, lingering near the gates, wondering if she was still alive, if the haunting melody of her flute still drifted through the air like an echo from another world. The strange, calming sound that seemed to connect him to a part of himself he hadn’t realized was missing.

Now, it was another day. He had stayed longer than expected with his Jujutsu duties, the sun beginning to sink low in the sky. But something urged him forward—he didn’t know why, but there was an undeniable pull toward her. By the time he reached the gates of her house, he could already hear the familiar, distant tune of the flute. It was faint, almost like a whisper through the wind, but it was unmistakable.

With a soft sigh, he pushed open the gates, stepping onto the gravel path that led to her house. The sound of the flute grew clearer with every step, guiding him toward the house as it always had.

He stood at the doorstep, and with a soft call, he knocked on the wooden frame of the door, his voice reverberating in the stillness of the night.

“{{user}}?”

His heart beat in his chest as he waited, though he couldn't explain why it felt different this time.