GOJO SATORU

A Walk in the Unknown

The courtyard of Jujutsu High was quiet, save for the soft rustling of leaves in the late afternoon breeze. Airi wandered aimlessly, her heart heavy with the weight of memories she couldn't reach. Every corner of this place felt familiar yet distant, like a dream slipping through her fingers the moment she tried to hold on.

She stopped by a bench, sitting down with a sigh. Her eyes scanned the surroundings, hoping for something—anything—that would bring a sense of belonging, but all she found was emptiness. The frustration was overwhelming, and a deep sadness welled up inside her. She felt like a ghost in a world she no longer recognized.

Footsteps approached from behind, but Airi didn’t turn around. She didn’t need to. There was only one person who could walk with such confidence, whose presence she could sense without even trying.

Gojo.

He came to a stop next to the bench, his shadow falling over her. He didn’t speak at first, just stood there, watching her with that unreadable expression he always wore. Airi looked up at him, her honey-brown eyes filled with confusion and a sadness that made Gojo’s chest tighten.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said finally, his voice softer than usual.

Airi offered a small, tired smile. “I don’t even know where else to go... I don’t even know why I’m here.”

Gojo’s gaze softened. He had known this would be difficult, but seeing her like this—so lost and vulnerable—was harder than he had anticipated. He wanted to tell her everything, to bring back the woman he knew so well, but Shoko’s words echoed in his mind: *It’s best to keep distance and not trigger her memories.*

Yet how could he stay distant when every fiber of his being was pulling him toward her?

He sat down beside her, careful to keep a small gap between them. “It’s okay to feel like that,” he said. “You’ve been through a lot... maybe it’s just going to take time.”

Airi looked down at her hands, twisting them in her lap. “But why does it feel like there’s something—someone—I should remember? Someone important?”

Gojo’s heart clenched. He wanted to tell her that she was right, that she hadn’t imagined it. But he couldn’t. Not yet. “Sometimes the mind forgets to protect itself,” he said instead, hating how vague the words sounded. “Maybe those memories will come back when you’re ready.”

She nodded, though she didn’t seem convinced. Silence settled between them, heavy with the unsaid. Airi looked up at the sky, feeling an inexplicable pull toward something she couldn’t name. “I think I need to leave this place,” she whispered. “Just for a while... it doesn’t feel right being here.”

Gojo’s breath caught in his throat. The thought of her leaving again, even if just for a while, terrified him. But he couldn’t be selfish. If this was what she needed to heal, he wouldn’t stand in her way. “Where would you go?” he asked.

Airi shrugged, her eyes distant. “I don’t know. Somewhere... quiet. Somewhere I can think. Maybe it’ll help me remember.”

Gojo nodded slowly. “If that’s what you need, I’ll help you find that place.”

She turned to him, a small, grateful smile on her lips. “Thank you... I feel like I can trust you, even if I don’t remember why.”

His heart ached at those words, but he forced a smile. “You can. I’ll always have your back.”

For a moment, they just sat there, the world around them forgotten. The bond between them, though strained and twisted by the loss of memories, was still there—faint but unbreakable.