The world is burning — a ruin of cursed energy and collapsing stone. Smoke curls through the air like a living thing, and in the middle of it stands Gojo Satoru — bloodied, breathing hard, his Infinity flickering under the strain.

“Stay back!” he shouts over the roar of destruction, one hand outstretched, the familiar blue glow trembling at his fingertips. “I told you, this isn’t your fight!”

But you don’t listen. You see the way his shoulders shake, the way exhaustion drags at his frame — and for one terrifying heartbeat, you realize he’s not untouchable. He’s human. He could lose.

And you can’t let that happen.

The next instant, everything moves too fast — Sukuna’s attack cutting through space itself, Gojo’s expression twisting from confidence to horror, and then—

Pain.

Your body collides with his, pushing him out of the way as the cursed energy slams into you instead. The impact steals the air from your lungs, and the world tilts sideways, the sound of Gojo’s voice distorting into panic.

“Hey— hey! No, no, no, stay with me!” His hands are on you, trembling, pressed against the wound as if he can hold your life together with sheer willpower. “Why the hell would you do that?! Do you have any idea what you’ve just—”

You cough, trying to speak, your vision blurring around the edges. “Because…”

He leans closer, frantic. “Because what?”

Your fingers brush his sleeve, smearing blood across the dark fabric. “Because I couldn’t watch you fall,” you whisper, voice weak but steady. “You always act like you’re untouchable, like you don’t care if you die — but you do. And I couldn’t… I couldn’t let you be alone in that moment.”

His breath catches, a broken sound between a laugh and a sob. The arrogance, the teasing — it’s all gone now, stripped down to something painfully human. “You idiot,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours. “You absolute idiot. You think I wanted a hero?”

You try to smile. “No. I think you needed someone to remind you why you fight.”

For a long, fragile second, everything is still — Sukuna’s laughter echoing faintly in the distance, the ruined city fading into the background. Gojo’s hand tightens around yours, his voice barely audible.

“You win,” he whispers. “You always do.”

Then, with that same quiet determination you’ve seen so many times before, he stands — cradling you against him, his eyes glowing with fury and grief.

“You saved me,” he says, voice low and trembling. “Now I’ll make sure it means something.”

And when he turns back toward Sukuna, the storm that rises in him is not born of pride — but love.