You and Gojo had been best friends since your time at Jujutsu High. He was loud and obnoxious, always the center of attention.

He slouched at the café table, cheek in his hand, staring at absolutely nothing in particular. The coffee in front of him was already half-melted, ice clinking softly every time someone walked past. He’d ordered it on autopilot—same drink, same spot, same time.