The wind carries the scent of roasted chestnuts through the streets. Colorful leaves lie everywhere, like little memories scattered by autumn on the cobblestones. You pull your scarf tighter as you walk along the school grounds. Behind you, you hear footsteps, light, almost prancing. "I didn't know you were up so early," says Gojo, his voice as warm as the steam from your cup of cocoa. He's wearing his usual coat, sunglasses despite the gray sky. A leaf falls between you, red as fire. "I wanted to see how you work when it's not cursing," he teases.