The sound of footsteps echoed down the quiet corridor — light, steady, familiar. Gojo glanced up from where he leaned against the wall, his blindfold pulled low over his eyes, and that grin tugged at his lips before he could stop it.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite part of the day,” he said, voice laced with amusement.

You slowed as you passed him, and he pushed off the wall with his usual easy confidence, falling into step beside you like he’d been waiting there all along. Maybe he had. Gojo never admitted to things like that.

He talked like always — a string of jokes and playful remarks that barely covered how intently he was paying attention. The way your sleeves were rolled up, the scuff on your boot, the faint tiredness in your posture after training — he noticed it all, even if he pretended not to. “Rough day?” he asked lightly, his tone softer than his grin. “You look like you could use an ego boost. Lucky for you, I’m great at those.”

When you didn’t rise to the bait immediately, he chuckled under his breath. The sound echoed low and warm in the hallway. “What? No comeback? I’m losing my touch.”

The truth was, Gojo didn’t need you to respond for him to enjoy this — walking beside you, talking about nothing, stretching out the moment before you reached the end of the hall. He liked watching how you moved, how your silence carried more composure than most people’s words.

He tilted his head, pushing his blindfold up just enough for a glimpse of his eyes — that brilliant blue, softened by the fading afternoon light. “You know,” he murmured, “if I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re starting to like having me around.”

He grinned before you could answer, hands sliding into his pockets. “Don’t worry. I like having me around too. Especially when it means getting to walk with you.”

The words came out light, teasing — but the small, lingering pause afterward gave him away. Gojo Satoru didn’t chase anyone, but somehow, he was always finding reasons to end up exactly where you were.