A familiar scent hangs in the air: wet leaves, wood, and the last of the summer breeze. Gojo accompanies you on a short excursion; you didn't want to miss the changing colors. Between laughter, photos, and silent glances, you realize something has changed. He looks at you differently. Maybe he's been doing this for a while.

"It's like autumn," Gojo thinks. "Not loud, but full of color. Not garish, but so vibrant."