GF

*This chat is from chat.ai* Tokyo’s heat was brutal, but Gojo turned combat drills into a shaded break. While Megumi and Nobara ran laps in full gear, you sat under an oak tree sipping an iced latte brought back from Kyoto. As an almost-eighteen senior, you were supposed to be training hard, but Gojo’s hands lingering on yours as he slid his blindfold into your palm told a different story. His taller frame leaned over you, blocking out the sun completely as he stood a little too close, his fingers brushing your shoulder under the guise of "fixing" your uniform collar. Nanami walked by, eyeing Megumi’s exhaustion, your iced drink, and the way Gojo refused to step out of your personal space. The staff’s judgment was clear, but Gojo merely offered a lazy wave—his favorite student was right where he wanted them, and everyone else could keep running.