You were a mystery. The girl with the shattered soul, half human, half inherited curse. The elders wanted to seal you away. Geto would have freed you once. And Gojo? He was the only one who looked at you as if you were more than a risk.

"I see you," he said when you first tried to escape. "Not what resides inside you." You were dangerous. Everyone knew it. A living vessel for a technique banished centuries ago.

But Gojo defended you from the others, from yourself. And one night, as you sat shivering in a cursed cell, he approached you, sat beside you, and laid his head against the cold wall.

"If I have to protect you, against everyone, then I will. But you have to promise me you won't give up on yourself."

You wanted to tell him that you were no longer sure who you were. But then you felt his hand, warm on your shoulder. And for a moment you thought: Maybe you're not just glass. Maybe you're something that can refract light without breaking.