Principal Weather blinked, unsure if he’d heard correctly.

Principal: Gojo… what did you just say?

Gojo kept his eyes fixed on the floor, his hands trembling slightly on his knees.

Gojo: Just… expel me. I know what I did was wrong, and no one here is ever going to see it any other way or would really believe the story from my perspective. So please, let's just end it now before it gets worse. I've caused enough problems already. 

His mother’s hand slipped from his shoulder, her voice breaking before she could form a proper sentence.

Gojo’s Mother: Gojo… what are you saying? You can’t just throw everything away!! 

Principal: She's right Gojo. You have to think this through. You don't need to throw everything away.

Gojo looked towards Reggie's direction with disgust in his eyes and then looked back at the principal and his parents. 

Gojo: Yeah, if it means I don't come back here again. 

Reggie’s mother folded her arms, her earlier anger faltering for the first time. There was no satisfaction in her eyes now, only surprise, and something that looked like regret.

Reggie himself sat still, no longer meeting anyone’s gaze. The ice pack on his cheek was half-melted, and he could feel Gojo’s words sinking into the room like stones.

Gojo’s father finally stepped forward from the wall. 

Gojo’s Father: (firmly) Enough of this. Gojo, you’re not getting expelled over one fight. You made a mistake, and you’ll face the consequences, but you’ll learn from it. You’re not running away from it.

Gojo: (quietly) It’s too late now Dad. No matter how hard I explain myself, everyone already sees me as a weirdo and a loser. I bet you don't even believe me either. And...

Gojo briefly recalled the stares that he got from everyone in the classroom and clenched his fists.

Gojo: I don't want to see those stares again. 

The room froze again as his words cut through the silence like glass and then his mother finally broke into tears.

Gojo’s Mother: (crying) Stop saying things like that! Please, Gojo, stop!! 

Even Principal Weather had no immediate words. He glanced between the two families, visibly torn.

Principal: Gojo… I understand what you’re feeling, but expulsion isn’t just a regular punishment. It’s an end to everything you've worked for. It's an end to everything that your parents have worked for. Do you really want to throw it all away? 

However, Gojo couldn't bring himself to answer that question because he knew it wouldn't be honest. Then his father spoke again. 

Gojo’s Father: (quietly) Let us handle this at home. Please.

Principal Weather sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. He could feel the exhaustion behind everyone’s anger, the tension and pain had twisted everything out of shape.

Principal: Alright. I won’t approve an expulsion. But the one month suspension will stand. One month. After that, we’ll reevaluate the situation.

He turned to Reggie’s parents.

Principal: Mr. and Mrs. Manson, I understand your frustration, but please, let’s not destroy two futures over one moment.

Reggie’s mother hesitated before responding.

Reggie’s Mother: (quietly) …Fine. But we expect full payment for the medical bills.

Gojo’s Father: You’ll have it. Every cent.

Principal Weather nodded, writing something down on a document before dismissing them.

As everyone slowly rose from their seats, the air remained heavy. Reggie avoided Gojo’s eyes entirely and Gojo didn’t look at anyone, not even his parents when they called out his name. 

His mother reached out to touch his arm as they walked out, but he gently pulled away.

Gojo: (softly) I just… need some time alone.

He left them without another word and began walking away as his footsteps echoed down the empty hallway.

And that was the last time Gojo stepped foot in that school. 

*****

It has been a month since that day and I still remember the look in my son's eyes when he walked out of the principal’s office and said he wanted to be left alone. 

Eventually he sat down and told me and his father everything that happened and I've raised Gojo for the past seventeen years and I've come to know when my son is lying to me and after hearing what he had to say, I knew for a fact that he wasn't. 

Maybe this is what we call motherly instinct. And before I knew it, my son began to change. 

Gojo spent the first few weeks of his suspension in silence. Then he stopped going outside completely and barely left his room except to shower late at night when he thought we were asleep. Most days, I would leave plates of food by his door. Sometimes he’d eat them and sometimes he wouldn’t.

When the month was finally over and his suspension came to an end, I tried to talk to him and I told him it was time to go back. That it was a new start and that things could get better.

He didn’t answer at first. He just stared down at the notebook on his desk and then when he did respond, he said quietly:

“I’m not going back there.”

I thought maybe I could convince him. Maybe I could talk him through it, like a mother should. But the more I tried, the further he drifted away. He wouldn’t look me in the eyes anymore. 

So after long nights of talking, arguing, and worrying, his father and I made a decision; Gojo is not going back to school and we would homeschool him until he graduates.

I should've felt relieved that he won’t have to face pitying stares, cruel whispers, or the boy he once called his best friend.

But I felt terrified.

Because even though he’s home, it feels like we lost him.

He doesn’t laugh anymore, doesn’t watch TV with us like he used to, he ignores messages from Emilia and he barely speaks to us at all. He just sits alone in his room with the curtains drawn, sketching in that notebook of his for hours and hours.

Sometimes I stand outside his door and listen, hoping to hear something, but there’s only silence and the soft sound of pencil flowing seamlessly on paper. 

I opened his door once to check how he was doing and I found him asleep on his desk and with a pencil still in his hand. I decided to take a look at what he was drawing and it was full of people with broken expressions, reaching for something they couldn’t touch. Eyes full of pain, fear, loneliness. Some of them looked like strangers.

Some of them looked like him.

I closed the door quietly as I left the room and cried in the hallway.

I don’t know how to help my son. I don’t know how to pull him back from wherever he’s fallen inside himself. But I know one thing:

If this goes on much longer… I’m scared he’ll disappear completely.

*******

Morning came with sunlight, but Gojo kept his curtains closed. He had a desk lamp he always used, and his notebooks were starting to pile up stacked on the floor, on his shelf, and beside his bed. Since his parents were still looking for a teacher for his homeschooling, he had a lot of time in his hands to do whatever he wanted. But he didn't really have any hobbies so he just kept on drawing.

And his art style had begun to improve as there was now a significant improvement from the way it was before and they way it was now. Every once in a while, his mind would think back to the times everything was peaceful and how happy he usually felt and then he remembered how Reggie betrayed him and the look he got from people because of it. 

He couldn't look people in the eyes anymore as it reminded him of the stares his classmates had given him after he punched Reggie's tooth out.

Suddenly, Gojo's stomach growled reminding him that he hadn't eaten breakfast yet. So he stood up from his desk and came out of his room. 

There was no one at home right now so the house was quiet, just the way he wanted it to be. He made himself a cup of tea and warmed up the burger his father had gotten him the day before but had refused to eat it then. 

Just as he began to sip his tea from the mug, the doorbell rang.  

Gojo: They're back early? Maybe mom or Dad forgot something...

Gojo set his mug down on the kitchen counter and walked to the front door, expecting a delivery or maybe a neighbor. But the moment he pulled the door open, he froze.

Before he could even react, someone stepped forward and wrapped their arms around him tightly. It took only two seconds for him to recognize the faint scent of floral perfume, the tremble in the shoulders pressed against his chest.

Emilia.