( There shoulders brush and something slots terribly into place. He's half worried he might cry from the awful relief, is only marginally surprised when his voice doesn't shake. )

Mm, fine. Same old. ( He consumed a curse and told no one. He half thinks to confess to Gojo, tell him that the numbers on file no longer match the one's inside of him, that he swallows them down as rote now and does not think. Instead he leans a little heavier against his shoulder, opens his mouth, closes it. ) Okay.

( Okay.

Infinity is not keeping him away. He can sense heat. He can feel the slump of shoulders. )

Stay there. I'm getting you a t-shirt. Actually, take your uniform off. ( Focus, old habits, well-trod pathways. He feels it rise inside of him like an anxiety. He wants this to feel the same. He makes to stand, follow through on his word. ) Weren't you supposed to be driven back? Why did you teleport?