It takes Gojo all of five minutes to get to you. You called him while he was out working late at night, your voice fragile and tired. Satoru doesn’t waste a second getting to you, and you hear the front door close loudly before your husband speaks.

“I’m home baby. Where are you?” You can hear the tension in his voice as you start to hear him run up the stairs. You’re sat by yourself in the bathroom, surrounded by nothing but your own blood and tears.