⚬|𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭|⚬

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 1

They rarely saw eye to eye in daylight, but sometimes, when the moon disappeared behind dark clouds and the air grew colder, a single, soft knock would sound from the other side of her door.

*knock

As she had predicted, that night was no exception. She rested her hand on the doorknob, took a deep breath, and let the cool night air fill her lungs before slowly turning the handle to welcome him into her warm room. He moved carefully, soundless, though they both knew discovery held no real consequence. Yet an unspoken rule lay between them, a silent pact that bound these rare, midnight visits in secrecy.

During the day, they clashed over trivialities. But when stars were swallowed by night and the world around them faded, peace would form between them like a quiet spell. Theirs was an unlikely bond, hidden away from others, too enigmatic to be understood. It had become their most cherished secret, woven into the dark hours and whispered glances.

She shut the door and turned to face him, letting out a soft sigh. He had been crying; the redness around his eyes betrayed him. She knew he wouldn't speak—not with her gaze meeting his. "Your things are in the bathroom," she murmured, gesturing to the door nearby. "Go change quickly. I'm tired." She gave him a playful nudge, her hand resting briefly on his chest as she gently pushed him forward.

By daylight, he would never have allowed her to break past his defenses, yet during the nighttime he wouldn't even bother activating his infinity.
She reflected on this as she moved to sit on the edge of her bed.

Satoru Gojo—the man they called "the strongest"—was exalted almost to divinity. His invisible barriers shielded him from the world, his bloodline powerful and pure, his presence cold and commanding. Untouched by flaws, he seemed scarcely human. Yet here he was, stripped of his armor. Maybe it was the way she had seen him, raw and unguarded, or maybe it was the particular bond they shared, but to her, Satoru was the most human of all.

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she watched raindrops patter against the window. His deep voice broke the silence. "I can always tell when it'll rain—my left knee aches." She glanced over, an amused smile playing on her lips. "You're like an old man." She lifted the blanket beside her, offering him a place, but he stood unmoving, arms crossed, his gaze softened with a familiar sadness.

"Y/n, darling, I don't want to talk." His voice was quiet, almost weary.

"I didn't say you had to," she replied, laying down and turning away from him. "Today was exhausting, Satoru, let's sleep." She closed her eyes, surrendering to the comfort of his presence.

This wasn't the first time he withdrew like this. She had learned to navigate the walls he built around himself, to approach his silence with patience rather than confrontation. And as expected, it wasn't long before she felt the bed shift beneath his weight. A small smile crossed her lips as his arms encircled her, pulling her close. His head nestled into the curve of her neck, his legs tangled with hers.