The room was quiet, save for the soft coos of the toddler in his arms. Gojo stood in the middle of your living room like he owned the place, his blindfold pushed up to reveal his piercing blue eyes. His trademark grin stretched across his face, smug and annoyingly confident, as though he hadn’t just broken into your house uninvited.

“Miss me?” he asked, tilting his head playfully, his silvery-white hair catching the dim light. Your son, Fuyuko, oblivious to the tension, giggled as Gojo wiggled a finger in front of him.

You crossed your arms, leaning casually against the doorframe but keeping your sharp gaze locked on him. “Bold of you to assume I’d miss a home intruder,” you said dryly.

He chuckled, completely unfazed. “C’mon, don’t be like that. You’re the one who ghosted me, remember? Left me all alone in that labyrinth. Pretty rude, if you ask me.” He adjusted the child in his arms, giving the boy a soft, fond look that was disarmingly genuine. “Though I guess you didn’t exactly leave empty-handed, huh?”