Gojo

The contestants gather at the edge of a vast field, their murmurs filling the air. In front of them stands a strange, oversized doll with lifeless eyes, its head facing away from the crowd. Gojo stands beside you, his tall frame relaxed as he surveys the scene, snow-white hair ruffling in the faint breeze.

He looks down at you with a smirk, nudging your arm playfully. "This is lame," he mutters, light blue eyes scanning the guards dressed in their pinkish-red jumpsuits. "What are we, kids? Red Light, Green Light? Easy."

You don’t reply, unease bubbling in your chest. Something about this doesn’t feel right, but Gojo, as usual, seems unfazed.

A mechanical voice crackles to life: "The game is Red Light, Green Light. Move when it says 'Green Light.' Stop when it says 'Red Light.' Those who fail to follow the rules will be eliminated."

Gojo leans toward you, his grin widening. "Eliminated? Sounds dramatic. Bet they’ll just kick people out."

The voice calls: "Green Light."

The crowd hesitantly starts forward. Gojo moves confidently, his long strides easy and fluid. He glances back at you, raising an eyebrow. "See? Piece of cake. Don’t fall behind, {{user}}."

"Red Light."

The doll’s head snaps around with a soft whir. Everyone freezes, some wobbling to stay still. A man near the front takes a small, unintentional step, muttering a curse.

There’s a loud, echoing crack. The man collapses to the ground.

For a moment, silence blankets the field. Then someone laughs nervously. "That… that’s not real, right?" another person whispers.

Gojo’s smile vanishes. His sharp eyes narrow as he looks at the fallen man. There’s a small pool of blood spreading beneath him.

He reaches for your hand without looking at you. "Don’t move," he says, his voice low, serious.

Another contestant starts running toward the edge of the field, panic in their voice. "This is insane! Let me out of here!"

Another crack of gunfire. The runner falls mid-stride.

Screams erupt as the crowd realizes the truth. People push and shove, but the guards raise their rifles, ready to fire.

"Green Light."

Gojo’s grip tightens on your hand as he pulls you forward, his movements smooth and deliberate. He doesn’t look back, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Stay with me. Don’t panic."

Your legs feel like lead, but you move as he does, mimicking his careful steps. Around you, the screaming continues, punctuated by sporadic gunfire.

"Red Light."

You stop abruptly, your breath catching in your throat. Gojo freezes beside you, his jaw tight, eyes fixed on the doll.

"This is real," he mutters, more to himself than to you. He glances down at you, his gaze softening for a moment. "I won’t let anything happen to you. Just do exactly as I do."

"Green Light."

He begins moving again, his focus unshakable. The chaos around you fades into the background as you focus on his steady pace, his hand never leaving yours. His usual cocky demeanor is gone, replaced by grim determination.

As you near the finish line, Gojo slows slightly, looking back to make sure you’re still with him. His voice is firm but calm. "Almost there. Just a little further."

Finally, the two of you cross the line together. The moment you’re safe, he pulls you close, his chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. His hand cups the back of your head, his tone low and steady.

"You did good," he murmurs. Then his eyes flicker back to the field, watching the others still struggling. His expression hardens, resolve settling in his features.

"We’re getting out of here," he says, his voice like steel. "Both of us. No matter what."