𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

┌──── ∘°❉°∘ ────┐

𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

└──── °∘❉∘° ────┘

𝐓𝐄𝐍

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰ ───

--THE DOJO WAS BATHED IN THE WARM HUES OF SUNSET, golden light filtering through the slatted windows and casting long shadows across the polished wooden floor. The air was thick with the hum of cursed energy, a quiet intensity that matched the clash of skill within the space.

Misa stood across from Gojo, her Frost Dominion swirling faintly around her. The air around her was cold, her every breath visible in the crisp chill. Despite the casual grin on Gojo's face, his movements were anything but. He was fast—unbelievably fast—but Misa had learned how to keep up, her reflexes sharp, her technique honed through relentless training.

She darted forward, her movements sharp and fluid as her ice-infused strikes aimed to catch him off-guard. Gojo evaded each one with maddening ease, his hands still tucked into his pockets. "Not bad," he said, his voice light. "You've gotten faster."

Misa didn't reply, her focus locked on him as she spun, her hand slicing through the air to summon an arc of razor-thin ice shards. The shards glittered in the sunset light as they raced toward him, but Gojo tilted his head lazily, the shards dissolving into harmless mist before they could reach him.

"Nice try," he said, stepping forward in a blur. "But you're gonna have to try harder than that."

Misa twisted, barely dodging his sudden approach. Her feet skimmed the floor as she summoned a layer of frost beneath her, sliding smoothly out of his reach. With a flick of her wrist, she sent an icy spike toward him, but Gojo sidestepped it effortlessly, his blindfolded gaze never leaving her.

"You're holding back," he teased, his tone almost playful. "Where's that fire, Misa? Or should I say, frost?"

Her lips twitched into a smirk. "Careful what you wish for."

She surged forward again, her movements sharp and relentless as she launched a barrage of icy strikes. Gojo dodged them all, his fluid movements almost taunting in their ease. She could feel the strain of keeping up with his pace, but she refused to slow down. Not yet.

Then, in an instant, he shifted. Faster than she could track, he stepped into her space and swept low, his leg hooking under hers with precision.

The next thing she knew, Misa's feet were no longer on the ground. With a smooth, effortless motion, Gojo swept under her, knocking her off balance. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise as she felt the ground rush up to meet her.

Thud.

She hit the floor with a soft grunt, the wind knocked out of her as she landed flat on her back. For a moment, she just lay there, staring up at the ceiling in stunned silence. Gojo was standing above her, already offering her a hand, his grin as wide as ever.

"Gotcha," Gojo said, his grin widening as he stood over her, hands still casually tucked into his pockets. The sunset light cast a golden glow behind him, making him look even more infuriatingly smug.

Misa groaned, propping herself up on her elbows and glaring up at him. "That was cheap."

"It was effective," Gojo replied, offering her a hand. "You've got the speed and the technique, but you've got to stay unpredictable. I can read you like a book."

She huffed, ignoring his hand and pushing herself up on her own. "Oh, I'm unpredictable. You're just impossible." She wiped the sweat from her brow, her expression still confident. "I'll get you next time. You're getting lazy, old man."

Gojo raised an eyebrow, his grin turning teasing. "Old man? You're really asking for it now, aren't you?" He said, his grin never faltering. "But seriously, you're getting better. A little more work, and you might actually hit me next time. Don't hold back that time either."

Misa dusted herself off, her smirk returning as she faced him again. "Next time, I'm freezing you to the floor."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Gojo teased, already turning toward the edge of the dojo. "But hey, it's almost dinner time. Let's wrap this up for today. Wouldn't want you too bruised for your next sparring match with Panda."

Misa stayed where she was, standing in the center of the dojo. The frost she had summoned earlier still lingered faintly in the air, and she stared at it for a moment before speaking.

"You really think I'm holding back?" Her voice was quieter now, lacking its usual sharpness.

Gojo paused mid-step, tilting his head slightly as if debating whether to answer seriously or with one of his usual quips. He turned back to her, his expression softening just a fraction—enough for someone who knew him well to notice.

"I do," he said finally, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "You're stronger than this, Misa. I've seen it. But lately..." He gestured vaguely at her, his blindfolded gaze impossible to read. "There's something holding you back. Something keeping you from pushing yourself."

Misa's jaw tightened, her fingers curling slightly at her sides. She didn't answer immediately, her gaze fixed on the floorboards beneath her feet.

"It's not that simple," she said after a long pause, her voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of something heavier. "I'm not holding back because I want to."

Gojo stayed silent, giving her the space to continue. He didn't press, didn't push. He just waited.

"It's... Yuji," she admitted, the words slipping out like a confession. She lifted her gaze, meeting where she thought his eyes might be behind the blindfold. "Ever since... ever since Sukuna—" She stopped, her voice catching slightly, before pushing forward. "Ever since he died, it's like something in me froze. I can't fight the way I used to. Not completely."

The dojo was quiet, save for the faint rustle of the wind outside. Gojo's expression didn't change, but there was a weight to his presence now, like he understood exactly what she meant without needing her to elaborate.

"I keep thinking about it," Misa continued, her voice lower now. "How it happened. How none of us could stop it. Sukuna just... he ripped his heart out like it was nothing. And Yuji—" Her voice broke slightly, and she exhaled sharply, trying to steady herself. "He just... accepted it. Like it was his responsibility to die."

She looked away, her eyes narrowing as the memory replayed in her mind. "I keep thinking, what if I'd been stronger? What if I'd been faster? Could I have done something? Could I have stopped it?"

Gojo let the silence stretch between them for a moment before speaking, his tone uncharacteristically serious. "You know as well as I do that Yuji made his choice. He was fighting for something bigger than himself. That's just the kind of person he was."

"That doesn't make it easier," Misa shot back, her voice sharper now. "It doesn't stop me from thinking about how I could've—should've—done more."

Gojo pushed off the wall, taking a step closer to her. "Misa," he said, his voice softer now, almost gentle. "You can't carry the weight of his choices on your shoulders. You did what you could. We all did. But sometimes, even with everything we have, it's not enough. And that's not your fault."

Misa's fists clenched at her sides, but she didn't respond. Her gaze stayed on the floor, her expression a mix of frustration and something deeper, something harder to name.

"I'm not telling you to forget him," Gojo continued. "I'm telling you to remember why he fought. Why he was willing to sacrifice himself. You think he'd want you holding yourself back like this?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line, the question hitting harder than she expected. "No," she admitted quietly. "He wouldn't."

"Exactly," Gojo said, his grin returning, though it was softer now, less teasing. "He'd want you to keep going, to fight harder, to get stronger—not because you owe him, but because that's who you are. You're a fighter, Misa. Don't let this freeze you in place."

She took a deep breath, letting his words sink in. When she looked back at him, there was a flicker of determination in her eyes, faint but growing. "You're annoyingly good at these pep talks, you know that?"

Gojo chuckled, stepping back toward the door. "It's one of my many talents. Now, come on. Dinner's waiting, and I don't want to miss the chance to see Panda try to convince Toge to eat something other than rice balls."

Misa followed him toward the door, her steps lighter than before. As they left the dojo, the last rays of the setting sun cast their shadows long across the floor, a quiet reminder that, despite everything, the world kept moving forward.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚