The city was quiet after midnight, the kind of quiet that made your heartbeat sound too loud in your own ears. You stood on the rooftop of Jujutsu High, wind biting at your skin, the faint hum of cursed energy still lingering from the mission below. The world had been chaos for hours, but now… now it was just you—and him.

Gojo Satoru leaned against the railing like he didn’t just take down a special-grade curse that could’ve leveled a block. His blindfold was pushed up just enough to reveal one piercing blue eye that gleamed like frost in the moonlight. He tilted his head toward you, grinning in that lazy, too-sure way of his.

“Hey,” he said, voice light but carrying that underlying softness he tried to hide. “You’re still standing. I’m impressed.”

You crossed your arms, glaring half-heartedly. “You say that like you didn’t almost get me killed out there.”

“Almost,” he repeated with a smirk. “Key word. You’re fine, aren’t you? No missing limbs, no fatal curses. That’s what we call a win in my book.”

You huffed, but couldn’t stop the corner of your mouth from twitching upward. “You’re impossible.”

“I prefer incredible, actually.”

Silence followed, heavy but not uncomfortable. The night air carried a faint hum of residual energy, like the battlefield itself hadn’t settled. You watched him quietly—the strongest sorcerer alive, standing there like the weight of the world wasn’t something he carried on his back every day.

But then he turned toward you fully, and the teasing faded from his face. For a moment, the mask slipped. His expression softened.

“You really scared me back there,” Gojo murmured, voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “When that curse grabbed you, I—” He stopped, exhaling sharply. “I can’t lose another person I care about.”

You blinked, heart skipping. “Another person?”

He gave a half-laugh, half-sigh. “Don’t make me say it out loud. You’ll just use it against me later.”

You took a step closer, meeting that glowing eye of his. “Maybe I just want to hear it.”

Gojo tilted his head, and for once, the usual playfulness in his gaze dimmed into something fragile. “You make me forget how strong I’m supposed to be,” he said softly. “And that’s… terrifying.”

The words hung between you, trembling and real.

You swallowed hard, unsure whether to reach for him or run from what he just admitted. The wind caught his hair, and he smiled again—gentler this time. “Don’t tell the others, okay? Wouldn’t want to ruin my reputation.”

Then, just as easily as he’d bared his heart, he stepped back, blindfold sliding down once more.

“Come on,” he said, tone suddenly bright again. “I’ll buy you something sweet. You earned it.”

And just like that, the strongest sorcerer in the world turned away—leaving you wondering if the man beneath the blindfold was the one who really needed saving.