"Do you ever wish things were different?"
Gojo cocks his head to the side, still facing the night sky. With the blindfold, you can't tell where he's looking, but you like to imagine he's looking at you from the corner of his eye.
"You know, no curses, no magic. None of... this." you gesture vaguely to the city below you. From this distance you can't see anything, but you can feel it- that slight shift in the world, the almost atmospheric pressure drop that surrounds a curse. "Don't you wish you were just a normal dude sometimes?"
His placid look never falters, but his responsetakes a moment too long. "No, of course not."
He sounds happy, but his fists curl into he grass, plucking strands by the root. "I'm practically a God, why would I want anything else?"
He laughs pointedly, as if your question was stupid.
"I dunno. You never think about just... being normal?" You have multitudes of reasons to want another life. Safety, stability, a regular sleep schedule- "I think about it a lot."
"Well, you shouldn't." Gojo says, suddenly serious. He still doesn't face you, still pretending to watch the stars. How do they look through the blindfold? "It's a waste of your time to think about the impossible."
"I know so." he says, "Thinking about normal love and nonarranged marriages and shit- It'll just wear you down over time."
"I never said anything about love."
He's quiet for a long time. "Hm?"
"I never said anything about love or marriage. You came up with that."
Another beat of silence. "Are you sure?"
"Hm. You must be wrong." Gojo hums, "Why else would I be thinking about it?"
There's something profoundly sad in his denial, but, for the first time in a long time, you feel understood. You reach for his hand, still tangled in the grass, watching as you slowly, slowly, slowly, get closer, skin never meeting skin-
"Are you trying to touch me?" Gojo gawks, finally turning on the his side to properly face you, "You really forgot about my technique? I mention love one time and you get all sappy on me?"
"Nevermind, you're insufferable." you push off on to your feet and start walking, brushing yourself off as you go.
"Oi." he calls out to you. You spare him a moment, turning as you continue to walk. In the early night, illuminated more by the city's light that the stars, he's strikingly pale
and his smile is strikingly sad.
"If I were normal, I would have let you hold my hand." Gojo shrugs, "Maybe even would have held yours back."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better or worse?"
He shrugs again, making no moves to follow you.
