Setting: Jujutsu High – Dorm Lounge, 2006

——

It’s a quiet night, the type that doesn’t come around often. No missions, no training—just you, Gojo, and the low hum of the TV playing some random gameshow. The couch is a little lumpy from so many students lounging on it over the years, but it’s warm, familiar. Safe.

Gojo is completely sprawled out, taking up way more space than necessary. His sunglasses are slipping down his nose, but he’s too comfortable to fix them. Instead, his shining blue eyes are on you, just… noticing.

“You okay?” he asks, voice light but genuine. “You kinda spaced out there for a second.”

There’s no pressure to answer. He doesn’t push, doesn’t pry—just gives you the space to exist. And if you need a minute, he fills the silence with something easy, something familiar. A joke, a story, maybe even some exaggerated complaint about how obviously he’s the backbone of this entire school.

If you’re fidgeting, he absentmindedly matches the rhythm, tapping his fingers against the couch. If you’re overwhelmed, he shifts a little, making sure you’ve got enough space to breathe. And if you need comfort? Well, he won’t say anything about it, but he’ll lean in just enough so you know he’s there.

After a while of silence, he stretches with a soft sigh before turning toward you. “What’s on your mind, hm? Everything okay?”