There must be something wrong with my krypton game

Will he come back?

Young master Wutiao has grown up so much, and for the first time he understands what "uneasy" is.

He was honestly locked up at home for a week in "confinement", never sneaking away or being a monster, getting up early to exercise and going to bed early, eating three meals a day, and occasionally complimenting the maid, so honestly that the council had another talk with him , asked him in a roundabout way if he had any other needs.

The subtext is - are you not sick?

Wutiaowu: "..."

Gojo Satoru: "I want to go back to class."

Council: "?"

Gojo Satoru: "But I still want to live at home, I don't care, you guys figure out a way."

The old men breathed a sigh of relief.

...Oh, it's him.

Still unreasonable.

Master Wujo was doing well, but that person never appeared again, a week, two weeks, three weeks...

A month passed, Gojo Satoru became restless again.

He started ignoring everyone again with a stinky face, skipping classes and wandering around aimlessly, and later developed to not going to school at all, losing his temper, shutting himself in the room, burying his head in sleep, and refusing to eat.

On the third day of Master Wutiao's hunger strike, the sliding door was pushed open as the sun set.

He buried his head in the quilt. In fact, he had already seen someone coming outside the door. He coughed twice pretending to be reserved, and stroked his sleepy hair.

I lifted the quilt slowly, planning to have a perfect goodbye——

Then, the man was seen opening the drawer beside the bed.

Inside was the remains of a large pile of pudding packaging.

Fresh out of the oven, the evidence is solid.

Wutiaowu: "..."

Gojo Satoru swears: "Can pudding count as a meal? No, yes, no."

Seeing that the hunger strike plan was going to overturn, Gojo Gojo clicked his tongue, put down his posture, and planned to mess around, "I don't care! You come here at least once a week, or I will go on a hunger strike—I will only eat pudding from now on!"

look at each other.

Speechless.

The air is silent.

After a while—the man still turned around.

"Hello!!" Young Master Wutiao was in a hurry, he sat up suddenly and went to pull the man's clothes.

"Please." Holding the fabric with his fingers, he whispered, "...Please."

He opened his mouth, but he didn't say the phrase "don't go".

Maybe it's because he didn't say it.

The cloth slipped from the fingertips, and the man finally left.

The doorway was empty, only the blood-colored sunset slid down on the clouds.

At that moment, Gojo Satoru felt that something was empty in his chest.

He took a deep breath and raised his hand to ruffle his hair, first he was annoyed, then irritable, then angry, and finally powerless and sad.

The long-term negative emotions were compressed into a rich black color, and the body naturally transformed it into mantra, but it radiated out continuously and uncontrollably.

He maintained that position for a long time, then fell back slumped, lying on the bed, covering his eyes with the quilt.

The maid knocked on the door, "Master, it's time for dinner..."

Gojo Satoru: "Get lost."

This time, he really didn't eat.

A body strengthened by mantras is more resistant than ordinary people, so Gojo Satoru can go without food for many days without any problems, but this time, Master Wujo also removed the mantra.

He curled up under the quilt angrily and slept soundly, without anyone yelling.

On the first day without eating, my stomach growled.

The second day without eating...the second day has not arrived yet.

At noon on the second day of the hunger strike in anger, Gojo Satoru stuffed a piece of cardboard into his quilt.

【two weeks】

Young master Wutiao half-opened his eyes, and lifted the quilt a little sullenly.

"No," he hummed. "A week and a half."

The cardboard said, 【What about eating? 】

Young master Wutiao turned over and muttered aggressively.

"...You feed me."

From that day on, Gojo Satoru had a mysterious partner.

If he doesn't eat well during the day, there will be crooked puddings on the bedside, triple sugar, made sweet.

He can't sleep at night, and there will be a person squatting beside the bed, running along his back and holding his hand.

A week has passed like this, and Young Master Wutiao is still listless, doesn't eat well, doesn't sleep in the middle of the night, and the dark circles under his eyes are getting worse.

Until another sleepless night, the man lifted his quilt—ignoring his desire to hide and hiding, and forcefully pulled out a few packs of super strong black coffee from the gap in the mattress.

Wutiaowu: "..."

Master Wutiao tried to pretend not to see, "Huh? Whose is this? What's going on, it must be Lizi, Lizi—"

The white mask sat opposite him, watching him without speaking.

"..." Gojo Satoru looked away and muttered softly, "Isn't that okay?"

"You're here all the time, aren't you?"

The man shook his head and wrote on the cardboard.

【no】

【obedient】

Gojo Satoru has never heard anyone's words in his life.

But for some reason, he still threw all the black coffee into the trash can.

The boy didn't speak, just hugged him gently.

Gojo Gojo paused for a long time, and finally raised one hand and hugged it back.

After 2 minutes, the teenager let go of him, and took away the two plates of dark chocolate that were hidden on his body.

Wutiaowu: "..."

you are vicious.

The plan of pretending to be pitiful failed completely, and the young master Wutiao was thinking about other plans absent-mindedly, and suddenly there was a cool touch on his forehead-he came back to his senses, and the boy stretched out his hand and flicked his head.

Gojo Satoru: "???"

Anyone who dares to blow his brains out, there is still in this world——

Just as Master Wutiao was about to lose his temper, the man shook his head and continued writing on the cardboard.

【Stop it】

He couldn't even hold the pen steadily, his neck was covered with cold sweat, and the words he wrote had several twists and turns.

Gojo Satoru instantly turned off the fire.

He covered his forehead and muttered, "Got it."

The next day, Master Wutiao went to school after a long absence.

Since that incident, some people in the school were afraid of him to death, while others admired him even more. It seems that some kind of support club has been established, but these have nothing to do with Gojo Satoru.

With his hands in his pockets, he sat down on the seat with a stinky face, and the team leader came to collect the homework tremblingly, "Well, classmate Wutiao..."

Gojo Satoru raised his neck, trying to glance at him, but halfway through the movement, he stopped again, forced the corners of his mouth to turn into a "kind" smile.

"Ah...what's the matter?"

Group leader:"……"

The team leader was scared away with a wow, and threw all the homework on his desk.

Gojo Satoru:?

Gojo Satoru picked up a copy without hesitation, and started copying it.

Campus life can't be said to be smooth or not, mainly because it doesn't matter to Gojo Satoru.

He ran from the mountain to the mountain to go to school every day, and then ran back to the mountain to sleep at night. He ate three meals a day on time, drank a cup of hot milk before going to bed, then turned off the lights and closed his eyes, looking out the window.

Most of the time, no one came, but at least once a week, mostly on weekends, Master Wutiao drew a small calendar on the table, and recorded the time when that person came, trying to find a pattern.

Then Master Wutiao discovered that the rule was that he was not very happy at those times.

This discovery made Wujo Satoru feel a little new.

So the next time we met, Wujou had finished talking about his boring school life this week, and when he was about to talk about the gossip he heard from the maid or Xia Ji, he suddenly interjected.

"Sunday."

The man turned his face in his direction.

"Sunday." Gojo Satoru repeated, "I'm moving out, you can come every Sunday."

Young Master Wutiao was not facing him, but he was actually looking at his face very carefully - although he could only see a white mask.

He tried to see a little bit of disappointment, loss, sadness, awkwardness, hesitation from all kinds of details and body language - but there was nothing, nothing.

The other party just nodded and wrote a word on the cardboard.

【it is good】

Gojo Satoru: "...not good."

Mystery man:【? 】

Wujo Wutiao grabbed the piece of paper with a blank face, rubbed it, tore it into pieces, and said loudly, "I can't tell - I won't move out! If I don't move it, I won't move it, and you will be mad at you!! "

Mystery man:【……】

The author has something to say: I don’t have enough time to write until I think about it...but for the sake of sugar, stew it lightly...