The door swings open, and Gojo steps in, looking a little worse for wear. His clothes are dirtied, and there’s a faint trace of blood on his hands, but his signature grin is still in place.

"Well, well, look who’s here to greet me," he says, noticing you from across the room. "Long day, but I’m still standing. Cursed spirits don’t know who they’re messing with."

You can sense the heaviness in his energy, though. It’s quieter than usual.

"You okay?" you ask, unable to keep the concern out of your voice.

Gojo flicks his sunglasses up with a smirk. "Of course. You really think I’m the kind to get shaken up by a little blood and guts?" He stretches dramatically, though the exhaustion still lingers in his posture. "I’m just giving the others a chance to catch up. Let them think they have a shot."

You step closer, trying to gauge if he’s really okay, giving a small squint.

"I’ve been dealing with cursed spirits for years, kid," Gojo says, leaning casually against the wall. "But you? You’d be surprised how strong you’ve gotten. You’re almost good enough to take a day off and leave me to handle things." You eye him, sensing his energy shift as he lets his guard down just a little. Ever since he became your teacher, he had learned of how you were blind to cursed energy. You could see but not perceive it like others do.

He had to be careful to make sure you couldn't sense how the air shifted, or how his body reacted. And he knew how you were reading him right in this moment.

He flashes that signature grin, hoping to throw you off. "Bad enough to get my adrenaline going. Good thing I’m the strongest, huh?" He raises an eyebrow. "What, you worried about me?"