Jujutsu Kaisen: beyond infinity

It was a quiet night at Jujutsu High, the kind of night where the stillness of the world amplified the noise within. Satoru had just returned from a grueling mission. His body ached, but it was his mind that bore the brunt of the exhaustion. He had long grown accustomed to the life of a sorcerer—missions, training, and the unrelenting weight of being the strongest. It was a life that demanded solitude, a self-reliance born of necessity. He told himself he didn't need anyone. He had always believed it. 

The cool night air was a welcome reprieve from the stifling heat of the mission. As he walked back to the dorms, fatigue settled into his bones, but sleep eluded him. Then, he saw her. Sitting outside, her gaze lifted to the stars, her silhouette illuminated by the faint glow of the night sky. Sana. 

It wasn't the first time he'd noticed her. Over the months, there had been small moments that lingered in his mind. The time she handed him an extra umbrella during a sudden downpour, even though his Infinity shielded him from the rain—it was the gesture, not the practicality, that stayed with him. Or the night she lingered after a sparring session, tending to a wound he had dismissed as "nothing," her touch light and deliberate. Her fingers had lingered just a moment too long, leaving him unsettled in a way that was neither unpleasant nor unwelcome. 

Tonight was no different. He approached quietly, unsure if she'd noticed him, but she turned her head, her soft smile like a beacon in the dark. 

"Long mission?" she asked, her voice as gentle as the night breeze, concern evident in her tone. 

Satoru ran a hand through his hair, offering a tired smile. "Yeah, you could say that." He exhaled deeply, the weight of the day pressing down on him. "A lot of running around. Nothing serious." 

He sank onto the bench beside her, the exhaustion seeping into his posture. The silence stretched between them, not awkward but serene. For once, the quiet felt like a comfort rather than a void. 

Sana returned her gaze to the stars, her expression soft and contemplative. Then, as if on a whim, she spoke. "If you're hungry, I can make you something warm. You've been out all day; it's the least I can do." 

Satoru blinked, caught off guard. He let out a soft laugh, scratching the back of his neck. "Nah, don't worry about it. I'll probably just grab some cup noodles. Can't be bothered to cook right now." 

Her eyes met his, unwavering. There was no pity in her offer, no sense of obligation. It was simple, sincere. "I don't mind," she said, her voice warm and steady. "It won't take long." 

He hesitated, staring at her as if trying to decipher why her words carried such weight. It wasn't the offer itself that struck him but the way she said it—like caring for him was the most natural thing in the world. She didn't see him as the strongest sorcerer or a symbol of untouchable power. She saw him—just Satoru, tired and human. 

Before he could answer, a rustling sound from the side caught their attention. A small cat, likely a stray, crept out of the bushes, its wide eyes curious. Sana reached out a hand, her movements gentle. The cat sniffed cautiously before nuzzling her palm. 

"Looks like you're not the only one who needs a break," she said softly, glancing at Satoru with a smile. 

He chuckled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Guess not." 

Sana stood, cradling the cat for a moment before letting it scamper off. "Come on. A warm meal will do you good." 

This time, he didn't protest. 

Inside the dorm common area, the soft glow of the kitchen lights added a warm hue to the scene. As Sana prepared a simple meal—rice, miso soup, and grilled fish—Satoru found himself leaning against the counter, watching her work. She moved with ease, her actions precise yet unhurried. 

"You cook often?" he asked, breaking the quiet. 

"Sometimes," she replied, glancing at him. "I like the process. It's calming. Plus, after high school we gotta cook on our own." 

He smirked, but there was no edge to it. "I could've managed." 

"Cup noodles don't count." she said. 

When she placed the food in front of him, he murmured a quiet thanks. Their hands brushed briefly, the warmth of her fingers lingering longer than the heat of the bowl. 

They ate in companionable silence, the weight of the day slowly lifting from Satoru's shoulders. At one point, Sana mentioned a funny mishap during her training earlier that day, and he found himself laughing—really laughing—for the first time in what felt like weeks. 

Later, as the clock neared midnight, she gathered the dishes while Satoru leaned back in his chair, his exhaustion finally giving way to a sense of calm. 

"Sana," he called softly as she turned to leave. 

She paused, looking over her shoulder. "Yes?" 

For a moment, he was silent, his gaze meeting hers. Then, with a small smile, he said, "Goodnight." 

Her smile was knowing but kind. "Goodnight, Satoru." 

As she left, the world outside felt a little less cold. The stars still glimmered, but now they seemed to shine with a gentler light. 

And for the first time in a long while, Satoru didn't feel alone.