Akari was still trying to process the sheer weight of everything that had happened. She attempted to push herself up from the cot, but a sharp wave of dizziness blurred her vision, sending her stumbling forward.
Before she could hit the floor, strong arms caught her by the waist, steadying her.
"Whoa, easy there," Gojo said, guiding her back onto the mattress. "You're still burning," he murmured, his hand lingering for a fraction of a second too long against her arm.
Akari flushed, looking up at him. Their gazes met, bridging the space of his blindfold. Time seemed to stretch, an unfamiliar, quiet flutter catching them both off guard.
Breaking the tension, Gojo cleared his throat, looking away just enough to grab a paper cup of water from the bedside table and hand it to her.
Akari reached out, her fingertips brushing against his warm skin. A sudden, stray jolt—a spontaneous spark born from the reaction between their opposing energies—made her hand jerk. The paper cup slipped as they both moved to catch it, their hands colliding over the rim.
They were close now—just a bit too close—when the door slid open with a sharp rattle.
Ren poked his head in, having heard the slight commotion. He froze dead in his tracks: Gojo was hovering near the edge of the cot, and Akari was sitting bolt upright with a face as red as a tomato. Noting the situation, Ren immediately slid the door shut again, leaving them in peace.
Gojo glanced down at her, noticing the lingering uncertainty in her eyes, and whispered, "That's it. Let me help calm you down..."
"Gojo, what? Wait a sec—"
Before she could finish, he cupped her face and pressed his lips to hers. Wrapping his arms securely around her, he pulled her close in the quiet sanctuary of the room.
"I won't let anyone lay a finger on you," he murmured against her hair. "Not by any chance."
The chaotic storm in Akari's mind instantly vanished, replaced by a profound, grounding calm, as if he were the only person in the world who could pull her back from the edge.
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