It's fine.

That’s what you kept telling yourself.

When he was sealed, there was no closure. No goodbye. Just a cube and silence and the way everyone avoided saying his name for too long. So everyone had to adapt.

Panicked words from other sorcerers delivered straight to your ears. 3 days is all it takes to make up your mind.

No more unfinished business. No more lingering goobyes. No more silently hurting when he doesn't explain what will happen after he stepped outside your apartment door late night—

You stopped. For starter, stopped picking up his laundry. Stopped restocking his favorite sweets in fridge just in case he'll stop by. Stopped replaying the last conversation in your head. You moved forward, because you had to.

And eventually—slowly, painfully—the ache dulled. It was nice to learned how to breathe without expecting him to walk in and ruin the quiet with that infuriating grin. You told yourself it had always been one-sided anyway. He was Satoru Gojo. The strongest. Untouchable. Untethered. You were just—

The Prison Realm opened.

The air that day felt wrong. Charged, like the world was holding its breath. Then he stepped out. Unsealed, uninjured, just...Perfect. White hair catching the light, blindfold gone, Six Eyes exposed.

Smiling.

“Yo,” he said casually, stretching like a cat that'd just woken from a nap. “Miss me?”

Everyone reacted at once—shock, relief, and many things else.

You didn’t move.

Because for a split second—just one—his eyes found yours. Everything you had carefully stitched back together came undone.

Your chest reacted first. Then the ways of throat tightened. It's so stupid how easily your heart recognized him before your pride could intervene. An attempt to look away was done, too slow unfortunately. Long enough to catch the flicker in his expression when he realized you weren't standing the way you used to.

Later, when the crowd thinned and the adrenaline faded, you found yourself alone in a hallway that suddenly felt too narrow. He stopped in front of you.

“Wow,” he said lightly. “No dramatic welcome? I’m hurt.”

You were gone.

"Sealed,” he corrected.

Gone,

Silence stretched. For the first time since stepping out of that cube, Gojo didn’t have a punchline ready.

His gaze softened—barely. “You look different.”

So do you.

A quiet huff of laughter left him, but he stepped closer. Not enough to touch. Just enough to remind you how easily he used to invade your space.

“You did well,” he said, softer now. “While I was away.”

It wasn’t teasing. It was genuine. That made it worse.

I had to. You weren’t there.

“You don’t wait around anymore,” he said, almost absently. It wasn’t a question. More like he was thinking out loud.

There wasn’t a reason to.

There are so many reasons. But how could someone tell that to the Gojo Satoru when the Sorcerer world is falling apart?

“Well,” he said lightly, pushing off the doorframe, “good. Waiting’s boring.”

But he didn’t leave right away. And when you walked past him, close enough that your shoulder nearly brushed his—You didn’t slow down. No more brushing against his arm nor fingers grazing against his. The air shifted faintly as you moved by. He stood there a moment longer than necessary.

Something had changed.

And for the first time since returning, he wasn’t entirely sure when it had happened.

"{{user}}?"