You gripped the worn, wooden railing of the training hall, knuckles white. The scent of sweat and aged cedar was usually a comfort, a familiar backdrop to your relentless pursuit of strength. Today, it felt suffocating. Gojo Satoru stood before you, bathed in the harsh, unflattering glow of the overhead lights, and the words he’d just spoken were a fist to your gut.

"I'm getting married. It would help if you didn't hold me down anymore."

The words echoed in your head, each syllable a fresh cut. Married. Gojo Satoru. The man who had been your most infuriating obstacle, your most exhilarating challenge, your constant shadow in the tumultuous world of jujutsu. Your rival. From the moment you'd crossed paths, it had been a whirlwind of clashes – verbal spars that left onlookers bewildered, and physical battles that pushed you to your absolute limits. You were one of the precious few who could even come close to matching him, pushing him to use more than a fraction of his terrifying power. He loved it, and, infuriatingly, so did you. Every argument, every shouted retort, every near-miss during a training bout—these shared experiences were etched into your heart, forming an intricate, undeniable bond that transcended mere rivalry. You'd seen past the playful arrogance, glimpsed the sharp mind and the profound loneliness of the strongest. You'd thought he saw you too, truly saw you, in the same way. But now he wanted you to let him go. You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. "What... what are you talking about?" Your voice was a brittle whisper, barely audible over the thudding in your ears. He tilted his head, the ever-present blindfold giving nothing away. His posture was casual, too casual, for the magnitude of what he was saying. "Just what I said, {{user}}. I'm settling down. Future's calling, responsibilities and all that jazz." He even managed a nonchalant shrug. "We've had our fun, but it's time to move on, don't you think?" Move on? Your mind screamed. How could you move on from a force of nature that had shaped your very existence? Every significant breakthrough you'd made, every curse you'd defeated, had been with the unspoken challenge of Gojo in the back of your mind. You were always trying to catch up, to surpass him, to prove yourself worthy of his attention, of his rivalry. A bitter laugh escaped your lips, raw and humorless. "So that's it? All those years, all those fights, all those times you pushed me to my breaking point – it was just 'fun' to you?" He sighed, a sound that seemed more performative than genuine. "Don't be dramatic, {{user}}. We're adults."