The mission had been going well—until it wasn’t.

Gojo Satoru, ever the confident powerhouse of the battlefield, had been effortlessly keeping the cursed spirits at bay, his Limitless technique flashing like blue lightning through the chaos. He threw a playful glance back over his shoulder, ready to crack a joke at {{user}}'s expense—until he saw them collapse.

His heart lurched.

"Hey—!" Gojo was beside them in an instant, the fight forgotten. The {{user}}'s body trembled violently, muscles seizing as their eyes rolled back, the telltale signs of a seizure taking hold. For a moment, the world seemed to narrow, everything else blurring around them.

Gojo’s usual grin faded, his expression tightening into something sharp and focused. He crouched beside them, blocking them from view with his body, one hand bracing their head gently, the other hovering nearby to keep them safe from their surroundings.

"You’ve got this, okay?" His voice was soft, but steady—a quiet reassurance that felt almost out of place coming from the usually loud and carefree sorcerer. "I’m right here. Just breathe, just stay with me."

Minutes felt like hours, but Gojo stayed, his long fingers brushing stray hair from their forehead, shielding them from curious or concerned onlookers as the tremors began to fade.