Bonds and Boundaries

Gojo scrubbed his hair vigorously, shaking off the excess water before turning to MeiYing with a bewildered expression.

"Oi, I asked you a—" His words trailed off as he noticed her frozen in place, eyes wide as she struggled to compose herself.

Then, as if flipping a switch, his confusion morphed into amusement. He smirked, running a hand through his damp white locks. "Yeah, yeah, take it all in. Want me to strike a few poses while you're at it?"

MeiYing snapped out of her trance, her face darkening with irritation. "You're insufferable!" she hissed, clenching her fists.

Turning sharply on her heel, she strode toward the bathhouse, her cold expression failing to mask the slight fluster in her eyes. As she passed him, she didn't forget to spit a few more venomous words.

Gojo simply chuckled, leaning lazily against the doorframe as he watched her disappear inside.

The once pristine room was now a mess of ink-stained scrolls, scattered parchments, and half-eaten food. The remnants of their long discussion sprawled across every surface, a testament to hours spent strategizing.

Gojo sat at the desk, bare-chested, leaning against the wall with a jug of wine in one hand. Nearby, a bowl of dumplings—long since abandoned—rested beside a pile of discarded bones.

In his other hand, he held a parchment—a meticulously detailed map. His striking blue eyes gleamed with interest as he traced its lines.

Meanwhile, MeiYing, utterly drained, had long given up on maintaining any sense of decorum. Draped in only her nightgown, she lay sprawled on the bed, her chest rising and falling in steady rhythm as exhaustion finally claimed her.

Gojo's lips curled into an approving smile. "I have to say, I didn't know you were this good at painting," he mused, holding up the map once more. "Maybe I should hire you to draw a portrait of me. What do you think?"

One of MeiYing's eyes barely cracked open before rolling with exasperation. "I'm going to bed. We'll discuss the plan tomorrow..."

With a lazy flick of her hand, a pulse of her Yuan power sent all the papers flying off the bed. She grabbed the blanket and wrapped herself in it, shutting him out completely.

Gojo raised a brow. "Huh. You were the one acting all paranoid when we rented this place, and now you're just going to sleep like that? How ironic."

Her only response was an annoyed groan, muffled by the fabric.

"Why would I worry?" she muttered. "If anything happens, your eyes would detect it first, and you'd just teleport us out of here anyway..."

Gojo paused, his fingers tightening slightly around the jug. His expression shifted subtly.

Teleport, huh? She was getting too comfortable around him.

He let out a low chuckle, swirling the wine in his cup. "Well, you're half right," he admitted. "My eyes can definitely see danger before it strikes, but teleportation? Not quite."

Her only response was a sleepy hum. He smirked but continued, speaking more to himself now.

"That technique I used in the mission hall against your lackeys… It's not teleportation. It's high-speed illusory movement. To weaker eyes, it looks like I vanish from place to place, but I don't. I just move too fast for them to follow." He took another slow sip. "Experts could track me if they're fast enough… so it all boils down to perspective. If you really think it's teleportation, then maybe you're not as strong as I thought you were."

Silence.

Gojo glanced over and saw that MeiYing was already asleep, curled up in the sheets, her face relaxed in rare peacefulness.

For some reason, that sight made something in his chest tighten.

With a long sigh, he leaned his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.

In his past life, matters of the heart had always been something he avoided. Not because he was clueless—far from it. He had indulged in his fair share of fleeting entanglements. But after Suguru left, something inside him shut down.

He had seen the lingering looks Utahime and Ieiri gave him, even when they tried to hide it. He wasn't blind. But he could never bring himself to give them what they wanted.

The capacity for true, deep love had died in him the day he lost Suguru.

And on the day he was forced to kill him with his own hands, Gojo Satoru—the strongest sorcerer in the world—shed a tear for the first time.

Since then, he had locked his heart away, standing so high above everyone else that they could never reach him. Not as a man. Not as a person. Only as a symbol of power, of strength.

And that was fine.

That was the life he had chosen.

Finishing the last sip of wine, he shook his head, pushing those thoughts away. Enough of this emotional riff-raff. The outer court rankings tournament was only a week away.

He needed more strength.

Without hesitation, he crossed his legs and closed his eyes. A silver light flickered around him—then, in an instant, he was gone.

The Next Morning

When MeiYing awoke, sunlight streamed through the window, bathing the room in a golden glow.

She stretched with a soft sigh, feeling refreshed—until she spotted Gojo.

Seated in a chair, fully dressed and blindfolded, he lazily munched on snacks, looking as if he had been waiting for her for hours.

She blinked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. There was something… different about him today. His presence felt altered. More controlled. More concealed. As if his power was being deliberately contained, rather than radiating out like it usually did.

She frowned but decided not to question it. Instead, she stretched her arms over her head, basking in the warmth of the morning light.

Then—

"Whew whew!"

Her eyes snapped open, now narrowed into thin slits of pure malice.

Gojo, unfazed, continued his slow whistle, his smirk widening. "Damn, MeiYing. When did we get so close that you feel comfortable showing me this much?" He leaned back, his grin infuriating. "Or are you just head over heels for me?"

Her gaze turned icy, but deep down, even she had to wonder.

When had she become so comfortable around him? Even the core disciples addressed her with formality, yet this man spoke to her so casually—and worse, she didn't feel the usual urge to correct him.

She exhaled sharply. "I'm not repulsed by you, if that's what you're asking."

Gojo's smirk widened. "That means we're making solid progress."

She rolled her eyes and strode toward the bathhouse. Just before entering, she let her nightgown slip to the floor, shutting the door behind her without a second glance.

Gojo blinked. Then chuckled. "Hah. She's catching on."

By the time she emerged, she was dressed in a striking black-and-gold imperial robe, ready to move out.

Gojo sized her up, then scratched his head. "You know, that dress is way too eye-catching. Maybe wear something more... practical?"

She raised an eyebrow. "My wardrobe only consists of imperial robes."

Gojo let out a long sigh. "Women…" he muttered, following her out the door.

After a brief farewell to the innkeeper—who Gojo thanked profusely for the food and wine—the duo finally stood at the edge of the vast forest.

MeiYing adjusted her sleeves. Gojo cracked his knuckles.

They exchanged a glance.

Then, with a burst of speed, they vanished into the trees, streaking forward like twin beams of light.

Their journey had truly begun.

---

A/N: Enjoy. Stones? Reviews? Collections? Comments?