The world wasn't divided fairly. Some people were born to chase curses. To storm through the skies with untouchable strength, bright, shining eyes, and an aura that silenced even the darkness. Others... were born to change sheets. To make coffee. And to listen to stories of old people long forgotten.

She was the latter.

The smell of freshly brewed tea still hung in the air as she gathered the dishes from the breakfast room. Mrs. Yamada had spoken about her late husband again today. Mr. Nishida wanted to know if it was Tuesday again. And she had smiled. Like every day.

A quiet clink, a plate in the sink, a glance at the clock. The lunch delivery is coming soon. Their lives consisted of routines, fixed schedules, and small moments in which the residents felt safe in their hands. It wasn't anything spectacular. But it was hers.

And then there was him.

Gojo Satoru

He didn't appear often. Only sometimes, like a comet shining far too brightly, shaking the sky. She had first met him when they were children in the park, among bugs, Pocky sticks, and a lost soccer ball. Back then, he hadn't worn glasses. Just a crooked grin and that defiance in his eyes, as if the whole world were too small for him.

"You don't have any powers?" he had asked her. "No," she had said. "Cool," he had replied. And had stayed.

Now, decades later, he was barely tangible. A shadow with a laugh that was too loud. A man everyone knew, but hardly anyone truly understood.

And yet… there was a knock on the kitchen door this morning. Not loud. Not dramatic. Almost as if someone was trying to sneak into a strange rhythm.

She opened the door. And there he was. Sunglasses, white hair, a coffee in his hand, as if he were on his way to the next apocalypse.

"I heard you make the best breakfast in town."

She blinked. And sighed.

"You're too late for scrambled eggs."

He grinned. "As always."