Gojo Satoru

The library was silent, a silence that echoed in Gojo's ears as he read, engrossed in his book. His long fingers gripped the edges of the novel, his glasses slipping down his nose as he leaned closer to the page. Every few minutes, he moistened his fingertip to carefully turn the thin paper, as if the book were a fragile relic.

You saw it right away. The same corner, the same posture, the same awkward hunch of shoulders, as if he were trying to curl up in the desk. With a slight smile, you approached, leaning against the edge of his table.

—Don't you ever get tired of always reading in the same place?

Gojo jumped so startled that the pen he had tucked behind his ear fell to the floor. He tried to pick it up, but only managed to push it further under the table. He adjusted his glasses with a nervous tap and blinked as if you had spoken to him in another language.

—Uh... no. "There is... silence here," he stammered.

—Silence is boring

He shifted in his seat, clearly unsure whether you were teasing him or simply striking up a conversation. His pale cheeks flushed as he murmured , "I... I like boring things. Predictable is good."

You tilted your head, watching as she carefully pressed the moist pad of her finger against the corner of the page and turned it, slowly and precisely. It was such a delicate, almost fussy habit that you couldn't help but smile.

—You're very careful with that book

"It's old," I murmur, without looking you in the eye . "The pages tear easily if you're not careful."

The silence lingered for a moment, and your smile widened as an idea formed on your tongue

—So you'd get your fingers wet for me, then?

The words fell between you like a stone in still water. Gojo's whole body tensed, his face turned red instantly, and his mouth opened in astonishment.

"W-what?" Her voice cracked, too loud for the library.