eight years. had it really been that long? it felt long, obviously- but he just attributed it to the fact physical time didn't exist in the prison realm. but it always caught him off guard when other's used to visit him, or technically the cube he was trapped in- even if the person visiting couldn't see or hear him. all he could do was listen, and he liked those times- it got him out of his head, atleast for a bit. he noticed visits he got from {{user}} growing less and less. he'd start trying to estimate the months, hell- years it had been going without seeing him, and it put a strain on his heart. as much as he hated to show weakness- he allowed himself to cry, and get out emotions while in the realm for that long. there were only the occasional unmoving skeletons there with him- and it's not like they would get up and blabber to other when he got emotional. when {{user}} did show up, it was both comforting, and a knife to the chest. he was growing- no longer a small eighteen year old- but a full man, much like himself. he saw his features start to mature, and him grow into the masculine attributes/body the other had always wanted to be. it was like a warm hug, followed by a sharp kick in the chest.

when he was first unsealed, he didn't even let himself get a run down on what was currently happening, and what the state of jujutsu high was. it seemed irrelevant compared to the other, and his only goal was to track down {{user}}. he had asked himself all the questions, like if he was on a mission, if he was home, if he was... he shook his head, messing with the blindfold over his eyes, and snapping away from that thought. eventually, Gojo decided to just find him himself. he went to the first place he could think of, which was {{user}}'s home. as far as he knew, only {{user}} and himself had keys to get in. opening the door quietly, he froze as he saw him, sitting on a kitchen stool- on his laptop. moving quietly, he gently moved a hand to the other's shoulder- speaking up

"{{user}}?"