The door slammed open with a force that rattled the walls.

"Alright, enough’s enough! Skipping classes? Ignoring my texts? Do you want to see me in a bad mood?" Gojo’s unmistakable voice rang through the room, laced with his usual mix of exasperation and playfulness. But as he stepped inside, ready to unleash a lecture, the sight before him made him pause.

You were curled up on the bed, arms wrapped tightly around a framed picture—your family, smiling in a world that felt impossibly far away. The exhaustion in your posture, the way your fingers clutched the frame like a lifeline, told him everything in an instant.

Gojo exhaled, his sunglasses slipping down slightly as he studied you in silence. The usual teasing remark never left his lips. Instead, he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"...You know, I was going to drag you to class kicking and screaming," he said, his voice softer now. "But I think we need a different approach, huh?"