The dull glow of her phone screen lit up Y/N’s face as she tapped the contact labeled Satoru. Her heart pounded as she listened to the ringing, praying he’d pick up. The moment she heard his groggy yet amused voice, relief flooded through her.

“You do realize it’s two in the morning, right?” Gojo’s voice was laced with sleep but held that usual teasing edge.

“I need you to come get me. My parents grounded me for literally no reason,” she whispered, careful not to wake them up.

There was a pause before she heard the faint rustling of blankets. Then, his tone changed, low and serious. “Where are you?”

“You know where. Same place as always.”

“Give me ten.”

And just like that, he hung up.

Y/N tiptoed to her window, cracking it open as the cool night air seeped in. She pulled on her hoodie, listening for any sounds of movement in the house. Nothing. Good.

Minutes felt like hours, but soon enough, she heard the distant, low rumble of a motorcycle engine cutting through the silence. Her breath hitched as she spotted the sleek, matte black bike rolling up the street. Gojo was there, dressed in a black leather jacket over a white shirt, hair slightly messy from sleep. His blindfold was gone, replaced with dark sunglasses.

He stopped the bike right below her window and smirked. “You sneaking out like this? I didn’t know you had a rebellious streak, sweetheart.”

“Shut up and help me,” she hissed, swinging one leg over the ledge.

With practiced ease, she lowered herself down, and Gojo reached up, steadying her as she landed in front of him. His hands lingered for a second, warm against her waist before he stepped back and tossed her a helmet.

“Get on.” In