You'd seen the way his tall, beanpole-like body sagged slightly when his students turned their backs, seen the way his usual shit-eating grin had faltered for just a moment, seen the way his eyes - light crystalline blue magnificence that dazzled - dimmed in the light of the evening sun.

He was good at wearing a mask. But right now?

Satoru Gojo was not okay.

Maybe it was that image of your friend, the usual happiness and positivity he radiated absent from his features, that led you to be standing outside his door hours later, hand poised to knock but not quite having the courage to.

You knew he needed you. Probably now more than ever, even if he wouldn't admit it himself.

You swallowed your apprehensions, and wracked your knuckles against his door.

Knock, knock, knock!

It took him a few moments to answer, but the door slowly clicked unlocked and opened.

...He looked rough.

Gone was the smile you were so used to, the dimples of his cheeks from grinning. The need to pretend and play at happiness was gone now, and boy did it show.

"...Hey."

...He sounded rough, too.