Nobara had been complaining for the last twenty minutes. She held a stack of mildewed training manuals between two fingers like they'd personally insulted her.

Maki was the only one making actual progress. She'd unearthed an old sparring dummy that looked like it had been mauled by a bear.

For a second, he just stared.

Teenage Gojo, grinning like an idiot. Teenage Geto, looking quietly amused. Teenage Shoko, already exhausted by everyone.

And beside Gojo—someone nobody recognized. Someone with one hand resting casually on Gojo's head, like he was the one who needed supervision.

Gojo had an arm slung around their shoulders. He looked genuinely happy.

"Satoru Gojo and {y/n}. Two catastrophes. One school. Zero survivors."