The ever-familiar forest was alive with shadows and greenery, the canopy blotting out most of the sunlight so that only thin streaks of gold pierced the darkness. The air was damp, thick with the earthy scent of moss and old wood—but none of it slowed Natsuki Subaru.
His lungs filled and emptied in steady rhythm, his arms swinging as his legs carried him forward at an inhuman pace. Each tree became a blur in his peripheral vision, every root and fallen branch dodged with instinctual precision. Superhuman reflexes, honed muscles, and the hard-earned comfort of battle all carried him deeper into the undergrowth.
Then, his knees bent low, and with a single skid through the shrub-littered soil, he vaulted upward. His hands caught a thick branch mid-leap—eyes locking onto the monster below in the same breath.
A hail of violet shards erupted from the treeline ahead, streaks of crystal whistling like arrows. They tore into the beast's hide, embedding into flesh and bursting in flares of mana. It staggered, a guttural roar shaking the forest.
A Guiltylowe. Lion's head, goat's torso, serpent tail, body larger than a wagon. A nightmare stitched together by malice itself, and a rare sight even in these cursed woods.
But Subaru wasn't afraid. Not anymore.
He dropped from above, momentum spiraling into his arm as he drove his fist into the crown of the beast's skull. The earth cracked outward in a ring with a thunderclap of force, birds scattering from the trees. Bone shattered. Brain matter burst. The Guiltylowe collapsed in a heap before it could even realize it had been slain.
"Haaah…" Subaru straightened, dusting his hands off like he'd just finished fixing a table rather than killing a witchbeast. His grin stretched wide.
"All done. Man, that was easy. Would've sniffed me out from the miasma, but my adorable teammate had my back and kept me nice and hidden. Life-saver."
The soft crunch of footsteps echoed, deliberate but unhurried. From the treeline emerged a small figure dressed in ribbons and frills, cream hair flowing in gentle curls. Her gemstone eyes sparkled as she tilted her head, lips curled into a tiny, smug smile.
"Of course Beatrice is already aware of her cuteness." she replied primly, hands resting on her dress as if she hadn't just littered the battlefield with deadly crystals. "But I shall accept the compliment nonetheless, I suppose."
Subaru laughed, slinging an arm around her shoulders without hesitation.
"Y'know, Beako, sometimes I think you enjoy this just a little too much."
"And sometimes, I think you underestimate how much trouble you would be without me, I suppose."
She shot back, though her cheeks puffed ever so slightly as she allowed herself to lean against him.
"Heh—hm?"
Subaru's smile faltered as a subtle thrum of mana pulsed through his clothes. He pulled out a small circular device from his pocket—the Communication Mirror. It buzzed faintly in his hand, light flickering across the polished surface.
He tapped it, and Petra's familiar voice rang out, high and slightly rushed.
"Ahh, hello, Subaruu…?"
"Petra? Hey, what's up?"
He tilted his head, brows raised.
"There are guests at the mansion waiting, and Lady Emilia asked me to tell you she wants you with her."
"…Visitors, huh?" Subaru scratched his cheek. "Well, alright then. Can't ignore Emilia-tan's orders! Thanks, Petra. I'll be there soon."
The mirror dimmed and went silent.
—————————————————————
The Roswaal Estate's hallways felt oddly comforting now, rebuilt and filled once more with the warmth of life. Subaru walked them with Beatrice's tiny hand nestled in his own, her fingers clutched firmly as her otherworldly eyes wandered about calmly.
Waiting at the end of the hall were two figures in maid uniforms, pink and blue heads bent together in quiet conversation.
Ram was the first to notice him, crimson eyes narrowing.
"You're late, Barasu. Subpar, as always, even for a so-called knight."
"Tch—!" Subaru scowled. "That's rich coming from someone who gets paid to call me names. My job is training every day, and doing your work more often than not. Talk about minimum wage robbery!"
"It appears your eyes deceive you as often as your mouth does." Ram replied coolly, arms crossed.
Rolling his eyes, Subaru turned to Rem, whose expression softened the moment their gazes met.
"We haven't seen you all day, Subaru," she said gently, hesitating only for a moment. "How have you been?"
"Heh. I've been great. Spent some quality time with my dear little Beako—"
"—Indecent."
Ram cut in sharply.
"—Killing witchbeasts, damn it! Let me finish before you slander me, you demon!"
Subaru groaned, throwing his free hand in the air.
"No matter." Ram smirked faintly.
"You should enter instead of keeping the guests waiting even longer."
"Yes ma'am…"
Subaru muttered, pushing the door open.
Inside, the air was warm and thick with tension. Emilia's silver hair shimmered in the light as she turned toward him with a smile of relief. Opposite her sat a purple-haired man whose resemblance to Julius was unmistakable, though his aura carried a quieter gravity in comparison to the annoying spirit knight. Nonetheless, Subaru still faltered.
"Uh… sorry I'm late?"
—————————————————————
Meanwhile, in the Astrea Estate garden, Gojo clapped slowly as an orange blur skidded to a halt before him. Felt was breathing heavily, sweat glinting on her brow, her grin feral and proud.
"Heh. Guess training with Reinhard really pays off huh..." Gojo teased, cocking his head. "Not long ago, you could barely keep that divine protection speed up for even just a moment. Now you're looking like a halfway-decent fighter. As far as a little runt goes, anyway."
Felt's grin twitched. "Heh, of course—" Then the realization hit. Her eyes narrowed, and with a snap she lunged, spinning into a kick aimed right at his head.
Her foot stopped mid-air, frozen against the invisible wall of Infinity.
"Why you—! Is it really that hard to just say something nice for once?!" she barked.
Gojo cackled, waving his hands innocently.
"When you react like that, how could I not poke fun? You make it way too easy."
Felt peeled herself off the barrier with a growl, arms crossed and cheeks puffed in frustration.
"Aaaanyway…" Gojo went on, "I haven't been watching your training much, same for the old man. How's he doing with Reinhard?"
Felt's pout vanished instantly, replaced with a grin.
"Heh. Old man Rom's gotten way better! Took a whole lot to drag him away from his precious custom-built bar, but now he's actually real powerful! Can you believe it?"
Gojo tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"Hmm. Flow Method training, maybe? That'd suit him. Guy's definitely got the build for it."
Before he could spiral into speculation, a quiet presence approached. A pink-haired maid stepped into view, her calm eyes meeting Gojo's unblinking blue ones. A chill ran down his spine—because if she was here, then the other twin was watching too. Somewhere. Always.
Kinda scary.
"H-heeey, Flam, how've you been?" Gojo tried with a nervous grin.
"It's Grassis." she corrected without hesitation. "And Sir Reinhard asked me to fetch you. He says it's important."
Gojo raised a hand to pat her head—then thought better of it, retreating with a click of his tongue.
Yeah, maybe not. I like living.
With a sigh, he straightened.
"Alrighty, lead the way!"
—————————————————————
The door creaked open, Gojo whistling a casual tune as he strolled inside. Reinhard was waiting, crimson hair bright against the afternoon light, his smile calm but steady.
"Good day to you, Satoru." the Sword Saint greeted warmly.
"Mhm~ been real good, thanks. So, what's up?"
"Lady Anastasia Hoshin has extended an invitation," Reinhard said evenly, gesturing to the envelope lingering on the table to his side.
"She asks if you would wish to accompany her to the Watergate City of Priestella."
Gojo tilted his head.
"Priestella, huh? Sounds fancy. Why me?"
Reinhard's expression didn't change, though his voice carried weight.
"Because, Satoru… as rumors stand, you are the frontrunner in this royal selection. Your feats have swayed public opinion. If any are seen as worthy of the throne, it is you as of now."
Gojo fell quiet, brows furrowing behind his bandages. Not surprising, not really—but heavy all the same.
"Your closest contenders," Reinhard continued, "are Lady Emilia and Lady Crusch Karsten. The latter is favored for delivering the White Whale's corpse to the capital. Were it not for… prejudice, Lady Emilia would likely stand equal to you. But as it is…"
Gojo clicked his tongue, leaning back with a smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Figures. People can't see past what's right in front of them."
"I suspect the same invitation was sent to all of the candidates." Reinhard finished. "What happens next… is uncertain."
Gojo shrugged before snapping his fingers, expression shifting back to casual resolve.
"Eh, screw it. Been bored anyway. Accept the invitation. Could be fun, could be trouble—either way, fun right?"
"Understood." Reinhard inclined his head. "I will see to the carriage as soon as possible."
Gojo pressed a hand to his chin, as though struck by sudden inspiration, before a sly smirk spread across his face.
"You remember that 'Otto' guy I mentioned? Yeah… He'd definitely come in handy. Knows his way around, can talk circles around people, and—most importantly—he panics funny. That's a skill, trust me."
Reinhard exhaled through his nose, as though he already regretted agreeing.
"…If you insist, then perhaps inviting him is not unwise. Still, I suspect he may not see it as you do."
—————————————————————
The gates of the Astrea Estate gleamed in the morning light, their gold filigree catching the sun. In front of them, Reinhard, Gojo, Felt, and Rom stood waiting as the rumble of wheels and the snorting of a ground dragon announced the approaching carriage.
It slowed to a halt, and a very clearly nervous Otto Suwen clambered down, nearly tripping over his own feet before straightening his coat and shuffling forward.
Gojo's smirk widened, eyes glinting with mischief as Otto waddled toward them like a man condemned.
"In all honesty, Satoru..." Otto began, wringing his hands.
"I wasn't expecting you to truly keep your word about… well, about me. I suppose I owe you an apology."
Gojo tilted his head, feigning injury.
"What, you weren't already packing your bags in case I croaked in that desert? Technically, that would've been your fault, you know, Rein here would've had your head for that."
Otto froze, sweat glistening at his temple as his gaze flickered to the obviously confused Sword Saint.
"Aha… surely, you jest…"
Gojo blinked at him with mock sincerity.
"Damn. No faith in me whatsoever. You wound me, Otto! You make me wanna cry!"
"...You're enjoying this too much." Otto muttered.
"It is good to finally meet you, Otto Suwen." Reinhard stepped forward with a smile, extending a hand.
"Satoru has spoken of you. Quite… interesting things."
Otto grasped Reinhard's hand with both of his, shaking it so fiercely it looked like he was pumping water from a well.
"Ah! The Sword Saint himself! The Master Swordsman, Reinhard van Astrea—certainly, it is an honor to meet you in the flesh!"
"O-Oh, well… thank you," Reinhard chuckled, a little flustered by the outpouring of enthusiasm. "Though I hardly live up to such a grand title."
Felt sauntered closer, eyeing Otto up and down with her hands on her hips.
"Hrrn. Who's this guy? Looks frail. But… kinda interesting at the same time."
"Don't be so upfront, Felt." Rom rumbled with a chuckle.
"Bah, whatever. If he's with Satoru, he's with us."
Gojo clapped his hands together, smug grin never leaving.
"Heh. Exactly. I only recruit the funniest of the funniest. And Otto here? Top-tier comedy gold."
"…This trip is already shaping up to be exhausting."
Otto muttered under his breath, climbing back into the driver's seat.
—————————————————————
The carriage rocked gently as it rolled down the stone road, the ground dragon's heavy footsteps keeping steady rhythm. Otto sat up front, reins in hand, while the others lounged inside the luxuriously cushioned cabin.
Gojo stretched out across his seat, rocking lazily side to side.
"Well, I totally forgot to ask, Rein—what's this 'Watergate City of Priestella' like, anyway? Big fancy title, but I've only heard scraps."
"I wanna know too!"
Felt chimed in, raising a hand like a schoolkid.
Reinhard folded his hands neatly in his lap, ever patient.
"Yes. As you have both asked, it is one of the five great cities of Lugunica, and perhaps the most unique. Priestella lies closest to the Kararagi border. Built within the very heart of a lake, it is a marvel of both engineering and magic."
Gojo perked up, smirk tugging at his lips.
"The founders raised colossal walls around the entire city."
Reinhard explained, his voice touched with reverence.
"—Reinforced with towering walls and impressive stonework. Without them, whenever it rained, it would have drowned Priestella long ago. But instead… it thrives. Canals thread between homes, great bridges span the waterways, and massive waterwheels turn endlessly, powering the city's heart. It is… beautiful, to say the least."
"Huh." Gojo leaned back, picturing it with a grin.
"So basically… fantasy Venice. Nice. Might buy myself a gondola, sing love songs to you all. Maybe see if the Sword Saint can blush~"
Reinhard blinked, amused, a twitch betraying him at the corner of his mouth.
"…I am not certain what a 'Venice' is, but I doubt that would happen, unfortunately."
"Pfft! Oh, I wanna see that!"
Felt cackled, kicking her boots against her seat.
Rom brushed a hand through his beard, smirking.
"I'm more curious about the ale. Been hearin' good things for years. Finally get to test it myself."
"Always alcohol with you, old man~" Gojo snorted. "If you're not training or snoring at that custom bar in the estate, you're drinking at some tavern. I don't get the appeal."
Rom rumbled with laughter.
"That's 'cause you're still a pup. Ain't nothin' like a cold mug after a long day let me tell y'that."
Gojo just shrugged, smirking.
"Eh, I'll stick to messing with Otto. That's my vice."
From the driver's seat came a very audible groan.
—————————————————————
Gojo hopped down from the carriage after Reinhard, with Felt springing out right behind and Rom lumbering along like a shadow. The stone bridge beneath their feet stretched wide across the water, its size impressive enough to rival the outer walls of the capital. Looming at the far end, the colossal gates looked less like a city entrance and more like the opening to a fortress, their rocky spires climbing toward the sky.
Traffic thickened the closer they got. Merchants, nobles, and travelers alike were funneled into inspection lines where guards in grey-lacquered armor checked papers, stamped seals, and waved people through one by one.
Gojo narrowed his eyes, already annoyed.
Seriously? I've got the damn Sword Saint with me, and we're still doing paperwork? Who's gonna stop us, the tourist bureau?
Still, he endured it. The whole ordeal turned out laughably simple. Write down a name, skim the rules, get a stamp, and move along. The only real hiccup was the poor guard who nearly keeled over the moment Gojo introduced himself.
"Man~" Gojo sighed as they stepped clear of the checkpoint, stretching his arms over his head.
"Glad I went through the trouble of learning to read and write. Would've been embarrassing otherwise."
"…Isn't that true for everyone here?" Otto muttered, one brow twitching.
Gojo just shrugged, grin tugging his lips.
"Although—" he tilted his head back toward the massive walls "—I gotta say, this place gives off prison vibes. Big stone island in the middle of nowhere, walls like a cage, guards at every corner… Feels like old Australia, well, not that I'd know what that was actually like but…"
Otto blinked, utterly baffled.
"…Australia?"
Felt saved him with a snicker, bouncing up to press her elbow against Otto's side.
"Don't worry, he just loves to talk nonsense."
"That's rude, you littl—"
Gojo started, before cutting himself off. His head snapped toward the gates.
With a groan of gears and chains, the titanic doors began to swing inward. Light spilled out in a blinding flood, forcing their eyes to adjust. And then—
"…Whoa."
Even Gojo, with his usual flippant tone, let out a low whistle.
The city unfurled before them like a painted tapestry. Canals glittered in the sun, crisscrossed with bridges and barges. Stone streets wound along the water's edge, lined with bright stalls and sprawling terraces. Towers rose from the lake itself, their reflections rippling across the surface. It was alive—voices, music, and the smell of food all carried over the breeze.
For once, even Reinhard's eyes widened, a flicker of wonder breaking through his perfect composure.
"Anyone cleared, back to your carriages!" a guard called, waving the line forward.
"Yeah, yeah."
Gojo muttered, reluctantly peeling his gaze away and climbing back inside the carriage. Felt practically plastered herself to the window the moment they set off, while Rom sat back with a satisfied grunt and Otto carefully steered their ground dragon onto the cobbled path.
—————————————————————
"Hey, Rein," Gojo drawled from his seat across. "Where's this Anastasia Hoshin hanging out again? I've forgot."
Reinhard chuckled softly.
"The Water Plumage Inn. I've never been, but knowing Lady Anastasia, it will be… extraordinary."
"An inn, huh?" Rom smirked, rubbing his chin. "Finally something worth the ride."
"There are so many boats," Felt said, her palms pressed flat against the glass as she drank in the view. "More boats than carriages!"
Gojo slapped his thigh, snorting.
"Well, duh! You think the ground dragons are gonna swim us there?"
"Hrrrgh—you—!"
Felt spun on him, fists raised, but Reinhard's quiet cough cut her off.
"These roads are designed for both, though carriages are less common. Still, for short trips, the ground dragon is faster than weaving through crowded waterways. We'll reach the inn shortly, so please... no fighting?"
And soon, Otto guided the dragon aside, pulling them up to the entrance of their destination.
The Water Plumage Inn stood proudly at the water's edge—and Gojo froze.
It didn't look like Priestella at all.
Smooth wood beams framed the walls. Sliding paper doors gleamed beneath polished glass. A tiled roof curled elegantly, with neat hedges and a gravel path winding toward the gate. Every line, every detail screamed of home.
Gojo's mouth went dry, the usual smirk faltering as nostalgia flickered sharp in his chest.
Reinhard caught the shift immediately.
"Satoru?"
"Huh—oh. Don't worry." Gojo waved it off, but his voice was quieter.
"Just… looks real similar to where I come from, that's all."
"I see." Reinhard's eyes softened with understanding.
And then a voice.
"Well now, y'all showed up sooner than I figured."
The sliding doors parted with a gentle clatter, and out stepped a woman draped in white fur, a fox scarf curled snug at her shoulders. Her violet hair tumbled in waves, aquamarine eyes sparkling with amusement—and something sharper beneath.
Anastasia Hoshin's smile was warm, but her gaze locked on Gojo with an unmistakable glint.
"Although this ain't our first time meetin' proper." She tipped her head, voice smooth as silk. "But still—nice t'meet ya, Satoru Gojo."
Gojo remained quiet for a heartbeat, then matched her gaze with a lazy smirk.
"Yeah, nice to meet you too. Anastasia Hoshin~"
Something in her eyes made him think twice. She wasn't someone to be underestimated, not even with that broken gate weighing her down.
But his attention shifted when the man at her side stepped forward. Purple hair, knightly uniform, blade at his waist. He moved with practiced elegance, every inch the model of a sworn knight.
He bowed deeply, first to the group, but primarily to Gojo as a candidate.
"Julius Juukulius, knight of Lady Anastasia. It is a pleasure to truly make your acquaintance."
Gojo's mouth rounded into an O, and he snapped his fingers.
"Ahh—you're the guy who totally kicked Subaru's ass back then. Mighty fine job, by the way."
Julius raised a brow, faintly caught off guard, but Gojo was already barreling forward.
"—Subaru probably would've been executed if you hadn't stepped in. Not that I would've let that happen, of course, but hey, the thought was there. So I can respect that."
A pause. Julius simply nodded, taking the compliment at face value.
Anastasia giggled for a moment before she spoke, her voice airy and melodic, but the weight in it was unmistakable.
"Please, come in. I'm grateful you arrived sooner than expected. I thought we'd all be waitin' a good deal longer for your appearance."
Gojo just shrugged. The Astrea Estate was pretty much completely across Lugunica—long journeys came with the territory. He stepped after her, the others in tow.
The sliding door creaked open, and the scent of tatami drifted up. Inside, the room was already filled.
Crusch, Felix, and Wilhelm sat together—Karsten's camp in full. Anastasia and Julius took their places, joined by a trio of childlike demi-humans with orange hair and sharp, curious eyes.
And then—
"Long time no see~" Gojo grinned.
Brown eyes locked with his own. A grin just as sharp answered back.
"—Gojo-sensei."
"Heh. Yo, Subaru."
The black-haired boy sat alongside Emilia, Beatrice perched like royalty at his side, and Garfiel—who, for some reason, had one of Anastasia's demi-human followers clinging to his back like luggage.
The reunion sparked easy warmth, but across the room, a colder current stirred.
Wilhelm's sharp gaze rose from beneath heavy lids, locking on Reinhard. His voice cut like steel drawn from its sheath.
"Reinhard."
Reinhard's calm expression barely shifted.
"…Grandfather."
Gojo let the tension hang a moment before he dropped to the mat in a smooth, practiced motion, legs folding neatly beneath him. The others followed his lead. Muscle memory from his youth in the Gojo Clan carried him through the gesture as if it had been carved into his bones.
"I was waiting for when you'd finally show up." Subaru smirked.
The two of them had crossed paths plenty over the past year, bonded not just by being Japanese, but by the strange and terrible truth Subaru had shared with him.
"Well, yeaaah~" Gojo stretched, cracking his neck. "It's quite the trek from Reinhard's estate. I would've just teleported here if I could, buuut—" he rolled a wrist lazily before shrugging.
Subaru snorted knowingly. Then he turned to Felt and Rom, both of whom looked just as out of place as they always did when seated among nobles.
"Long time no see too, Felt. Old man."
"Hrrrn… feels like too many brats are callin' me that these days." Rom scratched his chin.
Felt tilted her head at Subaru, a wolfish grin tugging her lips.
"You look less idiotic than back during that whole knight incident. Still can't believe you did that."
"…Yeah, me neither." Subaru winced, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Let's just say I learned my lesson. We never talk about that again, got it?"
While their reunion rattled on, Reinhard and Wilhelm sat in stiff silence, the air between them dense with unspoken history.
Gojo, meanwhile, shifted his gaze toward Crusch Karsten and Felix. His smirk widened.
"Gotta say, seeing you in casual clothes is weird. I half-expected the armor and sword to be, like, permanently attached."
Crusch chuckled softly, her composure unshaken.
"I suppose it might seem that way. But we all must have our moments of peace… though whether this qualifies as one is debatable."
Her expression hardened slightly, her orange eyes narrowing with polite scrutiny.
"More importantly—I am surprised to see you here, Satoru Gojo."
Gojo tilted his head, blinking as if caught off guard, though his grin never left. Before he could answer, Anastasia entered the conversation herself and interjected.
"I debated long 'n hard on invitin' ya. This here's just a little chat, and I don't like rowdy folk upsettin' the balance. But in the end, I figured you were worth the gamble. If only outta curiosity."
"Huuuuh…" Gojo leaned forward, chin resting in his palm, grin infuriatingly smug.
"What's so unreasonable about me~?"
Crusch exhaled through her nose, almost amused.
"The first time you appeared as a candidate, you antagonized us all and declared you would slay the White Whale. Anyone sane would call that unreasonable."
Gojo spread his hands innocently.
"Well, I did keep my promise, didn't I~?"
For a heartbeat, the room went quiet. Then Crusch's lips curled into a small, genuine smile.
"…That you did."
Gojo leaned back for a moment, eyes sliding over the room before he let out a soft breath.
"I guess that explains why a certain arrogant, fiery-haired woman isn't here. Shame—talking to her was fun."
—————————————————————
Hours drifted past. In that stretch, Gojo almost felt like he'd slipped back into Japan. It wasn't identical, of course, but there were traditional meals, steaming baths, and yukata to wear—small comforts that tugged at memory. Most of those things carried rough echoes for him, yet they were cozy enough, and he didn't want to be the only one not wearing one when everyone else had changed.
He blinked, jaw slack, watching the others with a quiet, bemused expression.
"Aweee—Beako, you're adorable! You're totally cute, you are, in that fancy yukata!"
Subaru chimed, twirling the tiny spirit like a feather.
"P-put me down, I suppose!" Beatrice sputtered.
"Too fast, too fast for Betty!" she added in indignation.
"..What… the hell…"
Both heads snapped toward Gojo. He was half-slouched, oddly still, sunglasses back in place instead of the bandages he'd grown used to. They weren't the originals—the ones Regulus had well and truly atomized—but Gojo had the next-best pair made. It suited him like a glove, of course.
"Ah, Gojo-sensei! Right, right, I forgot to tell you—" Subaru announced, suddenly bright.
"—meet my now-contracted, totally adorable, great spirit, Beako!"
He held her up like a prized doll.
"Hmph. It seems the infuriating man has finally realized. Took you long enough, I suppose," Beatrice sniffed.
"I couldn't even call you a princess without you threatening me! That's a compliment, you know—'princess'—"
"That's just rude!" Gojo cried dramatically.
Beatrice only smirked as Subaru put her back down, the faintest shadow of fondness in her eyes.
"Well." Gojo chuckled. "I guess it's better than you being stuck in that library. You look happier now, at least."
A flicker passed through Beatrice's eyes. Gojo braced for a snarky retort, but instead she only smiled, gaze lifting toward Subaru.
"You are right this time around, I suppose."
—————————————————————
Later, as the sun sank toward the horizon, Gojo found himself alone on a bridge. The dying light painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson, its reflection rippling across the river below. He leaned against the railing, fingers tapping lightly on the marble-like material, his sunglasses hiding nothing of the faint crease at his brow.
"…I suppose this is nice."
Somewhere else, Reinhard was no doubt trying his best to hold a conversation with Wilhelm—an impossible task, maybe, but one Gojo silently rooted for. He liked them both, after all.
He exhaled slowly, letting the quiet soak in.
"Yeah. I don't have to be uneasy. This… is nice."
His lips twitched, forming a small, genuine smile as the last word slipped out again, almost like he was reminding himself it was real.
"…Nice."