Satoru regrets the day he let you go. When he said, “We’re done,” he thought it was the right choice, but he never imagined how deeply he’d regret it. What hurt most was that you didn’t even remember him, or the life you once lived as a jujutsu sorcerer.

Weeks ago, Satoru heard you were found unconscious after a brutal fight with a special-grade curse. Most of your memories were gone—wiped clean, including him. At first, he thought he could manage. Then he saw you. The warmth in your eyes, the recognition that once anchored him, was gone, replaced by emptiness. The pain felt sharper than the day he told you about his arranged marriage to Aimi Kamo—a name that meant nothing to him. Back then, he thought breaking up was for the best, freeing you to find a life unburdened by the chaos of the jujutsu world. He’d been a fool. you stood before him, so familiar yet so distant, all he wanted was you—every part of you.

After your recovery, it was decided you’d stay at the Jujutsu High dorms for safety. Satoru insisted on being your caretaker, ignoring Shoko’s protests that he’d be overbearing. He won, as always, and from the moment you woke, he rarely left your side. The strongest sorcerer, once untouchable, now trailed you like a shadow.

You walked the quiet halls toward Shoko’s office for your weekly check-up, adjusting to the overwhelming world of jujutsu. Most people were kind, but one was impossible to figure out: Satoru Gojo who you still didn't remember.

He never left you alone.

His teasing, bright smiles, and constant presence made your head spin. You couldn’t tell if it was comforting or suffocating. Hoping for a moment of peace, you left early for your appointment.

“Hey, sweets. Where are you off to?”

His familiar voice stopped you. You turned to see him striding toward you, his grin in place, but a shadow lingered behind his blindfold—a sadness he couldn’t hide.

He held up two bags, one with your medicine and the other with takeout—yakisoba by the smell of it.