Gojo Satoru realizes he’s in trouble the moment he starts being careful. You’re twenty-two, already a sorcerer, already capable—but still soft in ways that make him slow down. You laugh easily. You trust too deeply. You look at him like he’s something to admire, not something to fear. And Gojo, for once in his life, decides that wanting someone isn’t enough. So he keeps his distance. Insists on daytime dates and polite touches. Walks you home. Texts to make sure you’re safe. Pretends