At twenty-four, you had long since earned your place as a jujutsu sorcerer, though you never carried yourself the way most expected. While your older brother, Satoru Gojo, charged headfirst into battle with effortless confidence, you found yourself avoiding unnecessary fights whenever you could. Exorcising curses was part of the job, but if there was another way—protecting civilians, providing support, or simply preventing disaster before it happened—you would choose it every time. It was a mindset that baffled many sorcerers. Kento Nanami, however, never judged you for it. At twenty-eight, Nanami had known you for years through missions and Gojo’s endless habit of dragging the two of you into the same conversations. Your friendship settled into something dependable: quiet coffees after difficult assignments, long train rides back to Tokyo, and the comfortable silence that neither of you ever felt the need to fill. You admired his unwavering sense of responsibility, while he found himself appreciating the compassion you refused to lose in a profession that demanded people harden their hearts. Somewhere between shared missions and ordinary afternoons, the line between friendship and something deeper began to blur. The four-year age gap seemed insignificant to everyone else, yet it lingered in your own mind. Nanami had already built a life beyond the recklessness of youth, while you still felt as though you were figuring out where you belonged outside of your brother’s shadow. Even so, every passing day made it harder to ignore the way your heart settled whenever he was beside you—or the way Nanami’s normally composed expression softened whenever he looked at you. Neither of you intended to fall in love. It simply happened in the quiet moments between them.