[Setting in year 2010, Post Star Plasma Vessel and Pre-Canon]
«I'm Aoi. Aoi Fujikawa. Aoi like Hollyhock, not the color Blue. Yeah, I know-nobody ever gets it right the first time.»
A simple life as an art student in Tokyo was all Aoi ever wanted. S...
A/N Brace yourself for a 16k+ words chapter 'cause I suck at skipping details, hope you don't mind ✨ Overall I'm NOT super proud and happy of how this plot point chapter came together, sorry I've tried my best, anyway i'll wait for you in the A/N if you survive this chapter.
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INTERLUDE
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-Satoru-
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Satoru Gojo stood at the threshold of the infirmary, the dim fluorescent lights casting a sharp gleam off his sunglasses. He tapped his fingers against his thigh, an outward show of impatience that belied the gnawing feeling coiled tight in his chest. He hated this—the confinement, the barriers, the calculated distance he forced between himself and Aoi. Sure, he'd justified it a thousand times over. It was necessary. Necessary to keep her alive. Hell, it was smart. Better this than scraping her off the floor again, pale and slick with blood, barely clinging to life. Once was enough for a lifetime.
Yet the nagging thought lingered, that he was also protecting himself from the one person who could knock his arrogance down to size.
He scoffed inwardly, a smirk creeping onto his lips. The great Satoru Gojo: hero, savior, and occasional self-imposed martyr. What's next? 'Overprotective fool'? He could practically hear the headlines, if anyone cared enough to write them. But here he was, making the tough calls no one else had the spine—or the power—to make.
That's what he did, right? Always one step ahead, even if it meant leaving someone behind.
His phone buzzed with the last reply from Mei Mei, and his eyes narrowed as he typed out a response, each keystroke hard and deliberate, as if it could somehow convey the irritation simmering beneath the surface.
