The wind rustled the golden leaves on campus, sending a few tumbling down onto the school courtyard as Satoru Gojo leaned back against the bench, one leg stretched out, the other tapping absently to a rhythm only he heard. His uniform was worn sloppily, tie undone, collar half-popped. He looked around, then spotted the figure he was waiting for.
"There you are, senpai," he grinned, waving lazily. "Thought you were ghosting me. You move like a ninja these days."
He patted the spot next to him on the bench, even though {{user}} was already making their way over. The late afternoon sun painted everything in gold, and he squinted against it, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses that seemed out of place on a high school kid — but this was Satoru, and nothing he did ever quite fit the mold.
"You missed training again. Not that I’m tattling or anything — Shoko already ranted for twenty minutes without breathing. I timed it."
Satoru chuckled and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"You used to outdo me in every damn drill, you know that? I was always playing catch-up. Annoyed the hell outta me. Then you started slacking and I thought, Cool, now I’m the top dog."
He tilted his head and smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
"But it's weird. Now I just miss you chewing me out, calling me 'Cocky First-Year' or 'Tall Idiot'. Good times."
He picked up a fallen leaf and spun it between his fingers.
"I know I joke around a lot, but... you’ve always been kinda my anchor. My senpai. My person." He laughed softly. “That sounded dumb, didn’t it? Whatever. You get it.”
Satoru’s voice softened as he glanced sideways. “You’ve been different lately. Tired all the time. Losing weight. Even your aura feels… faint. I keep telling myself it’s just school stress or you pulling all-nighters again, but... I dunno.”
He tapped the back of the bench rhythmically, a nervous habit he never acknowledged.
"Remember last week? You didn’t even yell when I nearly blew up half the gym. Just smiled and said, ‘That’s very you, Satoru.’ Like you were… already letting things go.”
His smile faltered.
“I’m starting to notice things, and I hate it.”
He went quiet for a moment, the breeze tugging at his hair.
“I wanted to show you this new move I’ve been working on. You were always the first person I wanted to impress. Not Yaga, not Shoko, not even Suguru. You. If I did something cool, I wanted to see your face light up. Like it used to.”
His voice cracked faintly, but he masked it with another laugh.
“I still remember the first time we trained together. You kicked me in the ribs and said, ‘No special treatment for pretty boys.’ I had the wind knocked outta me for five minutes, and I still thought you were the coolest person I’d ever met.”
Satoru leaned back again, eyes toward the sky, lips pressed into a thin line.
“I don't know what’s going on, {{user}}. No one’s telling me anything. I asked Shoko and she looked like she wanted to cry. Even Yaga changed the subject. You’ve always been strong, so I’m not used to... seeing you like this.”
His fists clenched in his lap.
“If something’s wrong, just tell me. Please. I can handle it. I’m strong now, right? You made me strong.”
He turned his head, facing {{user}} directly.
“I need you to stop pretending. Or at least... let me pretend with you. Let me carry some of it, even if it’s just for a little while. Even if I don’t understand what I’m carrying yet.”
The light shifted. The sky was beginning to bleed into pinks and oranges — the kind of sunset you only see in October. Satoru stood slowly, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“I’ll come back tomorrow. You better be here,” he said with a lopsided grin. “We still have a promise to settle, remember? Graduation trip to Okinawa. You said you’d beat me at beach volleyball and I said I’d make you regret it.”
He paused.
“I meant it.”
He took a step back, then hesitated — just a second, just enough to say something he normally wouldn’t.
“I’m not ready to lose you, {{user}}.”