Ms. Gojo thought she was dating an ordinary person's boyfriend.

Half an hour later, the two sat side by side at the dining table.

The re-fried hamburger patties were crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, and Gojo Satoru ate them with great satisfaction.

For once, he didn't talk while eating. Instead, he focused intently on cutting the meat into small pieces and stuffing them into his mouth one by one. His cheeks bulged slightly, and he chewed slowly, like a big white cat that had finally finished surveying its territory and was now eating peacefully by its owner's side.

Sumi Kichikawa didn't touch her share much.

He moved the shredded cabbage to the side of the plate, picked up the miso soup, but his gaze remained fixed on Gojo Satoru.

When this person eats, their eyelashes tremble slightly as they chew.

His lips were glistening from the sauce, and he occasionally stuck out the tip of his tongue to lick the corner of his mouth.

The white loungewear she was wearing, with its open collar, had slipped down one shoulder due to her casual sitting posture, leaving a faint red mark just below her collarbone.

Kikawa Sumi lowered her head and took a sip of soup.

The miso was at the perfect temperature, savory and slightly tender with a hint of tofu.

But his attention wasn't on the soup.

After a while, Gojo Satoru swallowed a large mouthful of meat, as if he suddenly remembered something. He raised his head, and his bright blue eyes curved into crescents.

"Oh, right."

He poked at the cherry tomatoes on the edge of the plate with his chopsticks, his tone light and casual.

"Didn't we say we were going to have dinner with Ms. Miyazawa and the others? I happen to be free tomorrow! We can go tomorrow night."

Sumire Kawakawa's hand, which was about to reach for the miso soup, stopped in mid-air.

In my mind, something was connected by a clear line.

A few days ago, one morning, Gojo Satoru rested his chin on his shoulder and said in an unusually stubborn tone, "Take me to meet them."

For the next two weeks, this person worked almost non-stop.

He suddenly realized that it might not be something like "just happened to have free time" at all.

Perhaps the sudden overload of work in the past two weeks is not solely due to targeting from higher-ups.

The most likely explanation is that this person unilaterally compressed an already heavy workload into these two weeks, working non-stop without sleep...

It was all to fulfill a promise made that morning.

It was simply so that she could enter his social circle as a "family member" in a respectable way, and attend a barbecue party that could actually be arranged at any time.

My heart felt like it was being soaked in a pool of warm, acidic water, both incredibly soft and painfully aching.

He recalled the scene when he first met Gojo Satoru.

Standing in front of the dessert counter under the incandescent light, even though most of his face was covered, he was still dazzling.

Later, he gradually learned more.

I know he likes sweets and has a childlike palate. I know he draws crooked cat faces in his notebook. I know he can be happy for a long time just by receiving a sticker.

I know that when he's sleepy, he'll rest his chin on anything he can, then squint his eyes and make a nasal sound like a kitten.

But Sumire Kichikawa also discovered something else.

He discovered that this person didn't really understand the true significance of interpersonal relationships.

Sumi Kichikawa didn't know what kind of environment he grew up in, but she could sense something from the various details of his interactions with him.

This person will take kindness very seriously and cherish it.

He doesn't know how to weigh things.

I didn't realize that some things didn't need to be done to this extent.

I don't know if everyone will wait for you, be understanding, or tell you, "No rush, come back after you've rested."

These are things that probably no one ever told him.

Sumire Kichikawa suddenly remembered what Chinatsu Miyazawa had said a few days ago at the entrance of the clinic.

"Dr. Kikawa, Mr. Gojo works so hard, please take good care of him and take good care of yourself too."

Yes, he should be taken good care of.

Because this moon, accustomed to hanging in the night sky, desperately concealed all its light and sharp edges in order to shine into his small room.

A crisp "snap" sound.

Kikawa Sumi placed the porcelain spoon in her hand on the rim of the bowl.

"Hmm? Why aren't you eating?" Gojo Satoru chewed on the tip of his chopsticks, tilting his head to look at him, his tone as light and cheerful as ever.

"Was there not enough sauce on the burger patty today? It was just right for me—or is Cheng already thinking about what to wear tomorrow?"

Sumi Kichikawa didn't respond to his joke.

He stood up, walked around the corner of the table, stood next to Gojo Satoru's chair, then squatted down and gently took Gojo Satoru's hand.

Gojo Satoru looked down at him. He was always perceptive, and the unusual quietness emanating from Kisakawa Sumi made him feel inexplicably uneasy.

But he still habitually grinned, trying to salvage the atmosphere: "What's wrong with my hands? Aren't they beautiful—"

"We're not going to the dinner party tomorrow," said Sumi Kichikawa.

Gojo Satoru blinked, his expression a mixture of surprise and a subtle, barely concealed disappointment.

"Eh~ why?"

He instinctively sat up straight, placed his chopsticks on the rim of his bowl, and began to analyze the situation seriously.

"Why? Is it because I didn't explain clearly? Actually, I'm really free tomorrow, and my schedule is all set—"

"Enlightenment".

Sumi Kichikawa simply called his name softly.

He didn't let go; instead, he took Gojo Satoru's hand entirely into his own palm, his thumb pad gently rubbing against his palm.

He looked at the puzzled Gojo Satoru.

"Miyazawa came to my clinic a few days ago, and I told her you're very busy lately and we can't schedule an appointment for the time being." Sumirei looked up, her tone gentle.

"Do you know what her first words were after hearing that?"

Gojo Satoru shook his head slightly.

"She said, 'It's okay, the shop isn't going anywhere. Let's wait until Mr. Gojo is done with this. We're not in a hurry. Please tell Mr. Gojo to take good care of himself, and please take good care of yourself, Dr. Kikawa.'"

Sumire Kikawa repeated it word by word.

"Fujii too. When he messaged me today, he didn't urge me about the roast meat, but instead specifically asked if I'd been working too hard lately."

Gojo Satoru's eyelashes trembled slightly.

"They do want to see you." Sumi Kichikawa's voice was calm and gentle, as if stating an undeniable fact, "but more than having dinner with you, they care about whether you are tired or not."

"But..." Gojo Satoru was unusually unsure of what to say, his tone somewhat bewildered.

"It was my own decision to go. I wanted to see your friends, I wanted them to know—"

"I know."

Sumire Kichikawa interrupted him.

He took Gojo Satoru's hand in his, turned it over to reveal his slightly cool palm. Then he lowered his head and kissed the center of his palm tenderly.

Gojo Satoru suddenly choked on his breath.

Sumire Kawakawa raised her head, looked at Satoru Gojo, and her eyes curved gently at the corners.

"You want to see my friends, you want to be a part of my life, you want everyone around me to know you—I know all of that." He lowered his head again, his lips brushing lightly against Gojo Satoru's trembling fingertips.

"I'm happy too. But there's a condition."

"What premise?" Gojo asked.

"The premise is that you can't make yourself suffer because of these things."

Sumire Kichikawa stared straight at him.

There was no blame, no dissatisfaction, no helplessness in those phoenix eyes.

"If you get yourself into this state because you went to see my friend—" He gripped Gojo Satoru's hand tightly.

"Then I'll feel like I didn't take good care of you."

"Whether it's Miyazawa and Fujii's dinner together, or my daily social interactions, none of these things are as important as you in the whole world."

Gojo Satoru's eyelashes trembled violently.

He sat in the chair, looking down at Sumi Kichikawa who was squatting in front of him.

Physically speaking, he is clearly the one on the higher side.

But at this moment, he felt as if he were being supported from the bottom up by an extremely soft ball of warm water, his whole body immersed in it, unable to find any foothold to struggle.

Gojo Satoru remained silent.

He bent down slightly.

He rested his forehead on the shoulder of Sumire Kichikawa.

Sumire Kichikawa raised her hand and gently placed her palm on the back of Gojo Satoru's neck, her five fingers slowly threading through his soft white hair.

"Sumi," Gojo Satoru said sullenly, his voice slightly nasal, "You fouled."

"What rule did I break?" Sumi Kichikawa casually combed through his hair with her fingers, her fingertips gently brushing against the roots with just the right amount of pressure.

"You always do this." Gojo Satoru's voice came from the crook of Sumi Kikawa's shoulder, muffled but each word carrying warm breath that brushed against his collarbone.

"I was trying to show off, but you always manage to beat me up in an even worse way. Last time at the bookstore. And this time too."

Kikawa Sumi looked down at the white head buried in the crook of her shoulder and smiled.

"So, are you admitting defeat?"

"I don't acknowledge it."

"……Um."

Sumi Kichikawa's fingers continued to stroke his hair.

"How about we stay home and sleep in tomorrow?"

Kikawa Sumi's lips brushed against Gojo Satoru's hair, her voice deep and gentle, carrying a reassuring warmth.

"You can sleep until whatever time you want. I'll make whatever you want to eat when you wake up."

Gojou huddled in his shoulder, not answering immediately.

After a long time, Sumi Kichikawa felt the arms around her waist tighten a little.

"...I want to eat buttered potatoes."

Gojo Satoru's muffled voice came from under his clothes, the nasal tone still lingering, but his tone had already regained some of his usual self-righteousness: "Sweet. Add more condensed milk."

Kikawa Sumi lowered her head and placed an extremely gentle kiss on Gojo Satoru's head.

"it is good."