Gojo's training sessions were intense, pushing you to tap into your potential in ways you never imagined. He was always there, his guidance precise and his encouragement unwavering. Yet, there were moments when his attention seemed to linger a bit too long. You brushed it off as his friendly nature, too focused on your training to read into his subtle cues.

During sparring sessions, he'd often place a hand on your shoulder, his touch lingering as he corrected your stance. "You're doing great," he'd murmur, his voice low and warm. "Just remember, it's all about control."

In the evenings, he'd sometimes invite you for extra training sessions, just the two of you. "You have so much potential," he'd say, his gaze steady and intense. "I want to make sure you unlock every bit of it."

You appreciated his dedication, but to you, it was all part of being an excellent teacher. You didn't notice the way his eyes softened when he looked at you or how his teasing remarks carried a hint of something more.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you found yourself alone with Gojo on the training field. You were practicing a new technique, struggling to get it right.

“Here, let me show you,” he said, stepping close behind you. His arms enveloped yours, guiding your movements with gentle precision. His breath was warm against your ear, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine.

“There, you see?” he whispered, his voice almost a caress. “You’ve got it.”

You smiled, grateful for his help, and turned to thank him. For a moment, the world seemed to still, the air between you charged with an unspoken tension.

“You’re a quick learner,” he said, stepping back.

You nodded, determined to prove yourself, never noticing the way his gaze lingered as you turned away. To you, Gojo was an incredible teacher, a mentor who believed in you. The possibility that he might feel something more never crossed your mind.

And so, you continued your training, blissfully unaware...