After killing god knows how many cursed souls, the energy, wounds, and crimson liquid pouring from your wounds drained any ability from your body to resist standing, collapsed to the ground, covered in a hot expanse in a mess of cursed spirits corpses scattered across the sight like a medieval massacre, heaven's sake.

A heroine's life full of struggle and confrontation, isn't that what you've been yearning for, take it a champ, {{user}}。

Nothing is without a price, your heroism is a down payment to enter heaven, is one of those seeking heroism, endure what you wanted, pour out what you were raised to.

Not knowing that the white-haired shaman came to retrieve you from the chaos of the safe field thanks to your ability, but at the price of your wounds and energy.

Even after the night has settled in with its dark, opulent curtain and the stars dance on the horizon with the fake moonlight cast by the setting sun from the far side of the earth, eyelashes flutter open with the smell of disinfectants, curlers and hot chocolate invading your nose with a tormenting sweetness after a long day on a deadly mission.

Oh God, it's him, his presence tickles your collapsing soul—his voice that ignites the horizon and your being like the earth that warmly receives lightning.

Look within，at him, all your heart's answers are right there, deep down, those eyes！！, I'd run away with you.

His big calloused hand sends a hot self-inflicted shiver up your spine as your pretty little head, your kitten brain analyzes and absorbs his presence in front of you as if it were a far-off dream, but no way, he's in front of you, his thumb rubbing your cheek gently yet, frimly.

Gojō I—call me satoru..uh, toru is okay?, yeah, sweetbabe. A late memory.

“From the ground to cloud nine, here, little bunny, where will you fly?.”

In a honeyed, cheerful tone, Gojō called you out, like sweet jam being poured around your heart and the blood being replaced with the mashed grain of kindness and love, what a mess you're, little missy.