[A/N]: I had a feeling to go and re-write the story, but no. You can't change the past, so I will from now on try my best.
Also do you guys like Julian, I feel like killing that boy.
***
Julian had always wondered why Gojo had abandoned him. Sure, he had reached his goals and the twisted demons that once haunted his life had been wiped out, but now that the dust had settled, he could not help but question the meaning behind it all. Victory felt hollow without an explanation.
Gojo had left him money, enough to live comfortably for a long while, but money was a poor substitute for words. It could not answer questions, nor could it explain why someone would disappear without even a goodbye.
'He was irresponsible but he was handy.'
That thought came uninvited, yet it stayed. Whether it had been making sure Julian stayed clean, fed, or simply having someone nearby who existed without asking anything in return, those things had mattered more than he wanted to admit. Gojo had been there when no one else was, and that alone carried weight. Julian was determined to find him, not out of anger, but because he needed answers that money could never provide.
'And also, he forgot to tell me about the super cool magic he uses.'
Ah yes, Gojo Satoru's so-called magic. The ability to erect barriers on an absurd scale and the even stranger ability that prevented anyone from touching him without permission still felt unreal. Julian had once been told that the technique worked by slowing things down the closer they got to him, as if the world itself hesitated in his presence. Even now, Julian could not fully wrap his head around it. If the same principle was applied constantly, then maintaining it without rest sounded exhausting. The fact that Gojo made it look effortless only added to the mystery.
"Well no need worrying about it, I already told the cloaked guy," Julian muttered to himself as he walked through the streets.
The streets of the Turk region were as beautiful as he remembered. Cobbled roads glistened under the sunlight, reflecting warmth left behind by the morning rain.
The buildings varied in height and design, blending stone and wood in a way that felt both old and alive. Birds hummed softly above, their songs mixing with the faint scent of the nearby forest and the clean smell of rainwater evaporating under the sun's steady gaze.
Julian inhaled deeply, his nostrils filling with familiar scents as his shoulders relaxed. The quiet chatter of civilians going about their day washed over him like background noise from a memory he had almost forgotten.
To the side, a couple stood close together, laughing and kissing beneath the setting sun. Nearby, a man hurried home with a grimoire clutched tightly to his chest, a wide smile stretched across his face as if he could not wait to open it. There were countless other lives unfolding around him, but Julian did not linger on them.
"Man, I could live here forever," he murmured.
He smiled as he approached the restaurant. The sign did not shine quite as brightly as he remembered, but that hardly mattered. This was the place Gojo had taken him to once, before everything changed. Before he had been left behind.
"Who knew just one week could change me so much."
The line outside was still long, just as it had been back then. Julian did not mind waiting. Standing there, surrounded by noise and warmth, felt strangely comforting. The chatter was the same as last week, the same sounds from the day Gojo had left. Everything was unchanged, yet somehow it all felt different, like the world had moved forward while he had stayed behind, holding onto something unfinished.
As he stood in line, Julian's mind drifted. It was not quite daydreaming, but it was not thinking either. His thoughts were empty, floating somewhere between awareness and fatigue, as if his mind had decided to rest without telling him first.
"Hey. Hey."
The voice snapped him back to reality. Julian flinched in surprise before realizing the line had moved and it was now his turn.
"Sorry sir, but you're kind of holding up the queue," the woman behind the counter said, her tone firm but not unkind.
'Sir? Is she talking to me? I'm only eleven. That doesn't sound right,' he thought, momentarily caught off guard by the title.
He quickly reached into his pouch, pulling out three gold coins and placing them on the counter. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to cause trouble. I was just lost in thought."
"I'll take a number three. And if possible, could you make it quick?" he added, trying to sound more composed than he felt.
The woman accepted the coins and began rummaging through the cash box for his change, but Julian raised a hand before she could finish.
"It's fine. You can keep the change," he said calmly.
She paused, then smiled. "Thank you for your generosity. Please take this and wait for your food."
She handed him a small wooden piece with the number sixty three carved into it. Julian nodded, took the token, and slipped it into his pocket before finding an empty table and sitting down.
'Lately it feels like I'm barely getting by,' he thought as he leaned back slightly. 'Everything feels dull. I really need something to shake things up.'
His mind briefly drifted to the cloaked man from earlier. The encounter had been tense, but in a strange way, it had also been the most stimulating thing he had experienced all week.
'I guess dealing with that guy was kind of fun. Also kind of worrying.'
Julian had managed to ward off the mysterious figure, the one who had come to interrogate him about Gojo. The man had eventually backed off after realizing that Julian's knowledge and connection to Gojo were far more shallow than expected.
That was when the realization truly settled in. Julian did not actually know much about Gojo at all. Just one week of kindness, guidance, and presence had left a deep mark on him, one he refused to let fade. Gojo had likely learned everything there was to know about him in that short time, yet Julian had barely scratched the surface in return.
The imbalance bothered him more than he wanted to admit. It felt like a missed opportunity, like a door that had closed before he could even decide whether to step through it.
He hated how little he could say with confidence. He wanted to call Gojo a teacher, a mentor, someone important. But no matter how he tried to frame it, the words would not come out honestly.
In the end, all he could do was sit there, waiting for his food, with a wooden token in his pocket and unanswered questions weighing quietly on his chest.
***
[A/N]: Sorry if the chapter bored you. Decided to take a more psychological turn of events.