Her grip on the doorknob tightened. Her golden eyes, heavy with exhaustion, didn't hide it well.
"How long have you been here?" she finally asked.
"Long enough," Gojo shrugged. "Your folks were loud—well, so were you, but you get the point."
"When will you stop intruding?" She clicked her tongue. "You shouldn't be here."
"Probably not," he admitted easily. "But I had a bad feeling Aimi-chan might be in a bad mood, so I dropped by. Aren't I kind? So sweet?"
Her eyes flicked to the floor for a moment before she exhaled sharply, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her. "What do you want, Satoru?"
"Nothing really." He uncrossed his legs, sitting up straighter. "Just checking in on you."
A silence settled between them before he broke it again.
"I guess I was right. Aimi-chan doesn't seem too happy." He grinned.
"Doesn't seem happy?" She sank onto the edge of the bed, putting distance between them. "That doesn't even begin to cover it."
"So," he leaned forward slightly, "your parents finally clued you in, huh?"
"I guess you already know everything." She looked up at the ceiling.
"Not everything," he replied. "But I can put two and two together."
Aimi ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter. None of it matters."
"Doesn't it?"
She scoffed, voice low. "They left me alone for eight years. And now they think they can just walk back into my life with... this bullshit."
Gojo didn't interrupt. For once, his expression was calm. Serious.
"I was fine," she continued quietly, more to herself. "I worked hard. I survived. And suddenly—" She cut herself off, biting her lip. "Why am I even saying this to you?"
"Because I'm easy to talk to," he said, that grin returning.
"And you clearly don't know how to read the room." She stood.
"What's the point of reading the room when you're the strongest?" he chuckled, reaching out and tugging her wrist gently, pulling her back down.
"Leave me alone and go home."
"I'm not leaving you alone," he said, tone light. "How could I ever leave Aimi-chan alone?"
It sounded like a joke, but the second he said it, something inside her gave out. Tears started falling silently, her body trembling.
Gojo didn't mind. He didn't try to stop her or offer awkward words. He simply lay down and pulled her gently into his arms, holding her while she cried.
She stayed there, buried in his embrace, before mumbling, "You seem comfortable with physical contact."
"I'm experienced," he replied. "And a natural."
"..." she sniffled, halfheartedly trying to pull away.
"Come on, continue where you left off. Don't go quiet on me." He nudged her.
She turned her tear-filled eyes toward the window, the streetlights glowing faintly beyond the glass.
"They gave me a choice to become a sorcerer."
"And you don't want to."
"Why would I?" she muttered. "It's because of this sorcery crap that they left me."
Gojo hummed, tilting his head thoughtfully. "That's fair."
She blinked. "???"
"I said it's fair," he repeated. "But then again, everyone's alone. Everyone's lonely. No matter how many people are around when you die… you die alone. Anything else is a nice illusion."
She stared at him. That… was unexpectedly philosophical.
"You don't say that to a twelve-year-old."
"Twelve-year-olds are dumb," he rubbed her back. "You're not twelve anymore, Aimi."
"…"
"Your folks probably tried their best," he sighed. "But this sorcery world is messed up. Curses. Higher-ups. The whole system's broken."
"Then why join it?" she asked softly.
"To fix it." He said it simply. "Every sorcerer wants change. But change demands sacrifice. That's just how it works."
"This conversation is unexpected." She felt him brushing her hair gently. "So you followed me just for this? To convince me to help with whatever dream you've got?"
"You are sharp," he replied. "Yes."
"…"
"Don't go quiet. You like honesty, right? I'm being honest with you. I've got nothing to hide."
"You're the worst."
"Why? Because I have a dream and asked for your help?"
"What is this dream?" she asked, swallowing her pride.
"A new world," he said. "One where kids like you don't have to suffer because of cursed bullshit. I want them to have peace. Freedom. A normal life."
His mind flicked to Riko. To Geto. To everything that shattered along the way.
"The higher-ups won't change anything," he continued. "They're greedy. Useless. Killing them wouldn't help either—they'd just be replaced."
She watched him quietly, the man behind the mask becoming clearer.
"Is this manipulation?"
"It's the truth," he said. "You choose. Whether you join me or not, that's your call."
"And if I say no? If I want nothing to do with it?"
"I still won't leave you alone."
"??"
"I said what I said."
The weight in his voice contrasted his usual carelessness.
"You're too determined." She sat up, wiping her face. "It's suffocating."
"Is it?" He laughed softly, handing her a tissue. "I thought I was delightful company."
She gave him a tired look as her body slumped. "I don't have the energy to banter."
"Good," he stood, stretching. "Let's go out."
"…Go where?"
"Out." He grabbed her wrist, pulling her up. "You've been sulking long enough."
"It's the middle of the night," she muttered, half-resisting.
"Exactly. Quiet. Peaceful. Just what you need."
As they made their way downstairs, Aimi noticed the living room was empty. Her parents were gone. The ache in her chest surprised her.
Gojo noticed and patted her head.
Without a word, he reached for her hand and laced their fingers together, gently tucking both into his coat pocket.
The night was cool. The streets quiet.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"Wherever," he said. "You've got nothing to lose, right?"
"I do," she whispered. "You're the one with nothing to lose."
He laughed.
They walked in silence through familiar roads, eventually stopping at a park she hadn't been to in years. Gojo flopped onto a bench and tugged her down beside him.
"Move closer," he nudged.
She sighed but scooted a bit closer.
They sat for a while, the soft night air calming.
"So," she asked at last, her voice low, "just to be clear… what do you want me to do, Satoru? Become a sorcerer?"