On February 1st, Asou Akiya arrived outside the Gojo estate.
He had arranged a clandestine meeting with Gojo Satoru — careful not to let anyone from the Gojo family detect his presence.
"I'm near your house now, where are you? Didn't you say you needed me to make some adjustments?"
Asou Akiya perched on the branch of a large, leafy tree and spoke into his phone.
"Here!"
A tall figure materialized out of thin air.
Asou Akiya's pupils contracted sharply, the sensation of warped space and time struck his eyes with brutal force.
What kind of person was this?
He seemed to have stepped straight out of the first season of an anime, the hot-blooded teacher archetype brought to life.
His toes balanced lightly on the very tip of the branch, white hair swaying gently in the breeze, his body more buoyant and graceful than any bird. The Tokyo Jujutsu High teacher uniform lent him an air of maturity — broad shoulders and a solid chest lending him a charm no mere minor could possess.
The high collar concealed his neck, yet it could not hide the distinctive youthful freshness that still clung to the sixteen-year-old Gojo Satoru.
The Six Eyes reflected the dappled tree shadows and Asou Akiya's figure.
[No blindfold?]
[No wonder I could tell it was you just by seeing your face.]
Asou Akiya realized with surprise that the so-called "ten-year eternal baby face" of the hot-blooded teacher was merely a playful exaggeration, not the literal truth.
Even though the outfit had been matched with remarkable precision — the same height of one meter ninety, the same uniform — the two versions carried an essential difference.
High-schooler Gojo was an untouched beautiful youth, his aura leaning toward cool detachment rather than sunny warmth.
Teacher Gojo was a grown man who loved to clown around, outwardly warm yet inwardly distant, while exuding the formidable presence of a special-grade sorcerer through sheer aura alone.
Their appearances were not entirely identical either.
The subtle distinctions lay in the passage of time, in trials endured, in responsibilities shouldered.
Asou Akiya's gaze upon Gojo Satoru remained perfectly clear-headed.
All along he had treated high-schooler Gojo as a classmate, as a friend, yet the one who filled him with genuine anticipation had always been teacher Gojo.
Now, faced with high-schooler Gojo stepping into the role of teacher Gojo, he discovered that the imagined thrill of crossing through time did not materialize. Instead, after the initial shock, he simply regarded the scene with calm acceptance.
"Gojo, come sit down." Asou Akiya gestured for Gojo Satoru to release his levitation.
"It feels so uncomfortable." Gojo Satoru's descent and seating carried a trace of awkwardness.
"Where's the blindfold? You don't have to wear it if you don't want to." Asou Akiya asked gently — his tone carrying no insistence — continuing softly. "But if you don't find some way to cover at least half your face — Suguru will see right away that you're still a high school student."
"The blindfold's right here." Gojo Satoru tugged a high-elasticity black blindfold out from beneath his high collar.
[So it was hanging around his neck all along.]
Before Asou Akiya could reach out to touch the blindfold, Gojo Satoru deliberately let go, allowing it to snap back against his neck with a sharp "pa."
Asou Akiya raised an eyebrow, it would be strange if he still failed to understand the meaning. "Are you throwing a tantrum?"
Gojo Satoru spoke in a dangerous tone. "You've drawn cats wearing blindfolds, and cats with bandages."
Asou Akiya admitted freely. "Yes, I have."
Gojo Satoru pressed. "You deny that you can see the 'future.'"
Asou Akiya nodded once more.
Gojo Satoru leaned in close, a fierce glint flashing in his eyes. The Six Eyes lived up to their name as the eyes of heaven, retaining an overwhelming majesty even on a youthful face. "Answer me, do you think the twenty-six-year-old version of me looks like this?"
Locked in place by the Six Eyes, Asou Akiya had nowhere to escape, and no desire to flee.
His eyes widened, brimming with amusement.
"No."
In that moment, Gojo Satoru felt a rare flicker of doubt toward the judgment of the Six Eyes.
The Six Eyes declared that Asou Akiya had not lied.
Asou Akiya spoke decisively. "I am willing to form a binding vow with Gojo Satoru, your appearance today stems solely from my one-sided imagination. I have never once believed that the twenty-six-year-old Gojo Satoru would be an adult wearing a blindfold."
Gojo Satoru immediately withdrew his earlier intensity, turning his head away. "Tch…"
Asou Akiya asked gently. "Don't be angry anymore, okay?"
Asou Akiya tentatively reached out and brushed the high collar of Gojo Satoru's uniform — his fingertips slipping past the forbidden zone to touch the skin of the neck beneath.
A black blindfold hung around the other's neck, accentuating the prominent outline of his Adam's apple.
Asou Akiya hooked his finger under the edge of the blindfold.
He gave it a light tug.
Gojo Satoru turned his head, a trace of helplessness in his voice as he admitted his misjudgment. "Sorry, I shouldn't have gotten mad. I just found it strange that you know I prefer sunglasses and hate anything touching my eyes, yet you keep insisting I wear a blindfold."
Asou Akiya froze for a moment.
Gojo Satoru caught the mischievous hand — pulling the black blindfold upward until it finally covered those excessively clear Six Eyes and the overly bright, youthful upper half of his face.
Gojo Satoru possessed an extremely sharp jawline, a high straight bridge of the nose, and lips curved in a sensual arc.
A wondrous surge of maturity struck in an instant!
The white-haired figure concealed every trace of his youthful face, hair standing straight, lips parted — no longer shouting with exaggerated flair but speaking in a tone both detached and teasingly light as he addressed the friend before him.
"Does this make me look cooler?"
"..." Asou Akiya had never feared the scrutiny of the Six Eyes, yet suddenly he feared the blindfolded Gojo Satoru with eyes closed beneath it.
And he feared... this casual remark.
Because it had nothing to do with looking cool or not—in that moment the carefree, unbound feeling surrounding high-schooler Gojo seemed to vanish all at once—replaced by the heavy weight of the "strongest" title locking him in place.
"Take it off."
Asou Akiya reached out and forcibly pulled the black blindfold away.
"Huh?"
Gojo Satoru had no time to open his eyes, bewildered by Asou Akiya's sudden change of heart.
The next second, Asou Akiya's fingertips brushed lightly around Gojo Satoru's eye area, his voice carrying both guilt and tenderness. "I acted too hastily just now, did removing the blindfold hurt you at all?"
"I'm sorry—I'm sorry, I don't want to see you grow up so quickly."
Asou Akiya kept apologizing to Gojo Satoru without pause.
"Pfft—" Gojo Satoru found it ridiculous, what kind of strange reason was that?
Yet in that instant he felt this version of Akiya was the most genuine, no longer playing mind games with him.
"All right, I forgive you." Gojo Satoru cut off the endless stream of apologies. "That's enough."
Gojo Satoru demanded. "Help me put it back on."
Asou Akiya asked in a low voice. "Are you sure?"
Gojo Satoru answered. "If it can make you feel like I grew up in an instant, it can definitely scare Suguru too."
Asou Akiya's mouth curved in a strained smile, yet Gojo Satoru reached out, pinched his cheek, and forcibly lifted the muscle upward.
"You yanked off my blindfold and even apologized — how could I possibly still hold it against you?"
"Stop hesitating, this is the image you imagined for me."
"I accept your fantasy."
"Put it on."
Under Gojo Satoru's command, Asou Akiya took the elastic fabric between trembling fingertips at both ends.
Asou Akiya fitted the black blindfold over Gojo Satoru's eyes.
Asou Akiya smoothed Gojo Satoru's white hair, the upturned strands soft and effortlessly dashing.
"You look really handsome, Gojo."
At last, he could look straight into his friend's face and speak words of praise that came straight from the soul. A praise for Gojo Satoru's body and spirit, without a trace of guilt.
With his mindset properly adjusted, Asou Akiya remembered why he had come and began offering suggestions to Gojo Satoru.
"Satoru, your legs are too thin — they clash with the thickness of your arms. Add another pair of base-layer pants underneath."
"..."
"Satoru, your voice still carries too much of a boyish quality. Try lowering your pitch."
"..."
"Satoru, call out 'Suguru' for me once."
"Suguru?"
"No, too pure. Make it colder and more commanding. Bring back the attitude you had toward Suguru right when school first started."
"Got it!!"
In this script Gojo Satoru rubbed his hands together eager to perform the role of a grown-up friend.
Gojo Satoru and Asou Akiya sat together on a tree branch discussing the script just like high school students fretting over a stage play. Gojo Satoru laid out the parts he had already prepared then casually asked.
"Akiya, your grave plot is already set up. What do you want written on the epitaph?"
Asou Akiya answered with a mischievous glint.
"Just write 'Everyone don't come find me too soon.'"
Gojo Satoru stuck out his tongue.
"Way too ordinary."
Asou Akiya reached over and lightly knocked the top of Gojo Satoru's fluffy white head then spoke the epitaph he would only have written if he had truly died at sixteen.
"'I passed through a magnificent youth.'"
Asou Akiya lowered his gaze toward the world beneath their dangling feet. Both of them loved to swing their legs like this feeling the freedom of the open air. He shifted his position closer to Gojo Satoru and spoke softly to the white-haired prankster who so loved mischief.
"'If I were to die please bury me in that grave plot you chose for me.'"
Beneath the black blindfold the eyes that had been closed to the world suddenly snapped open.
Gojo Satoru did not repeat the promise to protect him forever. Instead, outside the confines of the Gojo estate, he gave a single solemn answer.
"Okay."
"'Cremate me."
"Okay."
"'Come visit me every year. Whoever is late is nothing but Kakashi Hatake.'"
"Okay."
"'And never call me short again. Give me enough time and I'll grow taller — my face will mature too.'"
"Okay."
No one could guarantee a smooth journey to the very end of this path called life. Gojo Satoru had once believed he could make the stubborn little tangerine obey, that at the first sign of danger the boy would hide behind him and Suguru. Reality proved otherwise. The little tangerine had already steeled his mind for death in service of the future of jujutsu sorcery.
In the end Gojo Satoru found himself yielding to Asou Akiya both inside and outside the story of this script.
— Fine then, all these little things, I'll do them your way.