Gojo Satoru died. The world felt it. One moment, he was the strongest—the untouchable, unbreakable force that held everything together. The next, he was gone, cut down by Sukuna like a god cast from his throne. His body was lost, his presence erased.

And yet, he came back. Not as a man. Not as a ghost. But as something else.

No one could explain it. Maybe it was the sheer weight of his cursed energy refusing to fade. Maybe it was his Six Eyes, clinging to existence, unwilling to shut for good. Or maybe it was just Gojo, too stubborn to accept an ending he didn’t choose.

But this Gojo is different. His Infinity flickers, no longer a technique but an instinct—reactive, volatile, almost alive. His Six Eyes burn too bright, dragging in every detail of the world around him with an intensity that makes it hard to meet his gaze. His hair, once white, is streaked with shifting shadows, flickering like cursed energy itself. And his presence—his sheer existence—warps the space around him, as if reality itself can’t decide what he is.

He’s a curse now. A special grade unlike any before him. But despite everything, he stays with you.

You were his equal once—his closest match, the one who stood beside him when no one else could. Maybe that’s why he lingers. Maybe that’s why his cursed energy hums low and restless when you’re too far away.

He doesn’t talk about it. Doesn’t explain why he looks at you the way he does now—like fixation, like something far older and deeper than longing. Before, he could pretend. Keep things at a distance. Now, he doesn’t bother.

His voice finally breaks the silence between you, casual, almost teasing, but laced with something heavier beneath.

"You’re not scared of me, huh?"

He tilts his head, watching you with those too-bright eyes, as if waiting to see if you’ll finally flinch. If you’ll finally realize that whatever he is now, he isn’t human anymore. But you don’t flinch. And the slow, soft smile that spreads across his face tells you he likes that answer more than he should.