Ms. Gojo thought she was dating an ordinary person's boyfriend.

Pushing open the door to the infirmary, the familiar smell of disinfectant and a faint scent of tobacco wafted towards me.

Shoko Ieiri was wearing a white lab coat, leaning against her desk, toying with an unlit cigarette in her hand.

Without even looking up, she said, "Shouldn't you be basking in your boyfriend's arms, eating and drinking for free right now?"

"Shoku—" Gojo Satoru pushed the door open without any ceremony and slammed it shut behind him.

"Smoking so much is bad for your health. Where's your sense of responsibility as a doctor?"

"Where is your sense of responsibility as a teacher?" Shoko Ieiri lazily lifted her eyelids and glanced at him, her gaze lingering for a second on his turtleneck sweater that completely covered his neck.

Her lips twitched.

"...Tsk." Shoko Ieiri flicked the ash into the ashtray speechlessly. "These aren't your clothes, are they?"

Without a hint of embarrassment, Gojo Satoru tugged at his collar: "It's my boyfriend's clothes~ Aren't you jealous?"

"What's there to envy?"

Glass stubbed out the cigarette.

"So, what brings you to the infirmary all of a sudden? You don't want me to remove those things from your body, do you?"

"—That won't do." Gojo Satoru immediately retorted confidently, "That was carefully left behind by my Sumi, I can't bear to throw it away."

Ieiri Glass: "..."

She picked up the half-smoked cigarette from the table with a blank expression, lit it again, and took a deep drag.

Speak like a human.

"Ahem." Gojo Satoru pulled up a chair from the side and sat down, completely changing his previous unserious manner.

He put away his usual frivolity, and although he was still wearing sunglasses, Shoko could sense his seriousness at that moment.

"Shoku," Gojo Satoru said, his voice unusually cautious, "I have a question for you."

"Speak." Shoko put down her cigarette and picked up her coffee cup.

"If an ordinary person exhibits characteristics resembling 'dissociative identity disorder' under certain specific circumstances, is intervention and psychotherapy necessary?"

"Dual personality?" Shoko paused in her coffee-drinking motion, her eyes instantly sharpening.

She looked Wu Tiaowu up and down, then astutely grasped the key point: "You mean your doctor?"

Gojo Satoru did not deny it, and nodded slightly.

Glass was somewhat unexpected.

She originally thought that the ordinary person partner Gojo Satoru had found was a normal person who was emotionally stable, gentle and considerate, and could provide emotional value to this guy.

But now it seems like the other person has a serious psychological problem?

"What exactly are the symptoms?" Shoko asked.

Gojo Satoru omitted those intimate details that couldn't be spoken of, and described the situation as objectively as possible.

"...He is usually a very gentle, emotionally stable person, and you could even say he is a very principled and principled person."

"However, after being stimulated in a certain way, he becomes like a different person. He is filled with a strong destructive urge and an extreme... possessiveness, and at the same time, he is filled with anxiety and becomes very paranoid. And he himself seems unaware of this switch."

Gojo Satoru paused, the image of Sumi Kichikawa's eyes, which seemed to be drowning and were gripping him tightly, flashing through his mind last night. His voice lowered: "In that state, he was very vulnerable, and also very dangerous."

Shoko listened quietly, her gaze sweeping over Gojo Satoru's turtleneck sweater, which covered him up completely. Combining this with the "possessiveness" that had slipped out of his words, she, as an adult, instantly understood what was going on.

Based on Gojo Satoru's account, it's clear that the person had significant psychological issues.

Beneath the surface of gentleness and tolerance lies a stubbornness capable of destroying oneself.

"What are you worried about?" Shoko pulled up a chair and sat down, looking directly at Gojo Satoru.

I'm worried about his mental state.

Gojo Satoru's brow furrowed slightly.

"That extreme paranoia and sense of disconnect doesn't seem like something he could heal himself through daily adjustments. The way he was on the verge of collapse last night... I'm worried that if this continues, his mental state won't be able to handle it. Should I take him to see a psychologist?"

Shoko Ieiri looked at him and suddenly chuckled softly.

"Gojo, as a sorcerer..."

Ieiri Glass asked with great interest,

"Are you also worried that other people might have mental health issues?"

Ieiri Shoko didn't say it directly, but the meaning couldn't be clearer.

—Who in the world of sorcery isn't a madman?

In this world where we deal with death, curses, and despair every day, every sorcerer who survives carries within them a few hidden wounds.

How could they possibly use normal social standards to worry about whether someone's mental state is normal?

Gojo Satoru did not reply.

He knew, of course, that most people in the world of sorcery had some psychological issues.

But he felt that it was something he could handle himself.

Because from the moment a sorcerer embarks on this path, they are forced to learn how to coexist with the darkness within themselves.

He is a typical example.

They are naturally better able to adjust and endure than others.

But Sumi Kichikawa is different.

The way he acted last night.

That kind of near-breakdown, out-of-control, almost pathological obsession is not something an ordinary person can self-regulate and heal.

"...I just feel," Gojo Satoru said slowly, "that he shouldn't have to bear all that."

A brief silence fell over the infirmary once again.

Ieiri Glass looked at Gojo Satoru.

Seeing this man, who had been unruly and arrogant since childhood, now come to her for advice because he was worried about her "mental state".

—Ah, you've really fallen for her.

Shoko Ieiri sighed inwardly, but her tone remained impolite: "I'll ask you a few more questions."

"What?"

"Has his occasional display of obsessiveness affected your relationship?"

Gojo Satoru replied without hesitation: "No."

In fact, last night, Kikawa Sumi's extreme, burning obsession and possessiveness that almost destroyed everything did not frighten him. Instead, it made him feel an unprecedented sense of security, as if he were loved unconditionally.

"Then..." Ieiri Shoko continued, "has it affected his own daily life?"

Gojo Satoru thought about it carefully, then shook his head: "No, not either."

Sumi Kichikawa remains the same gentle and reliable pediatrician, the same "worrying old lady" who diligently treats children, patiently cares for colleagues, feeds stray cats, and prepares lunchboxes for them.

His life was well-organized, even more fulfilling and orderly than that of most "normal" people.

"Then—" Ieiri Shoko narrowed her eyes with interest, "Do you care? Do you care about his occasional bouts of obsession?"

Gojo Satoru was silent for a second.

Then he slowly shook his head, a gentle light appearing in his eyes.

"...I don't care."

He not only didn't care, he even...enjoyed it.

He enjoyed that obsession, feeling like the "only one" who was being watched with all his heart and held onto tightly.

He enjoyed the intense, almost obsessive love that Sumi Kikawa possessed, hidden beneath her gentle exterior, a love that belonged only to him.

Shoko Ieiri looked at him and suddenly smiled.

"In that case," she said, picking up the cigarette pack, taking out another cigarette, lighting it, and slowly exhaling a smoke ring.

"It won't affect your relationship, it won't affect his life, and you don't mind either—"

"Then what are you still hesitating about?"

Gojo was taken aback.

"Gojo," Ieiri Shoko said, looking at him through the smoke, a rare tenderness appearing in her eyes, which had seen countless deaths.

Not all "abnormalities" need to be treated.

"Treatment is only effective if the condition causes suffering to the person involved or those around them. But the doctor you mentioned—"

"He himself is not in pain, his life has not been affected, and you, the person's partner, do not think it is a problem."

"Then what makes you think he needs to be 'healed'?"

Gojo Satoru was suddenly stunned.

"The five criteria, in psychological terms, are used to define those who are unable to integrate into society and are unable to survive on their own."

Shoko's voice was soft, yet incisive: "If his madness and paranoia are only directed at you; if only you can handle his vulnerability and loss of control, then it's not an illness."

Shoko looked into Gojo Satoru's eyes, which seemed to vibrate even through his sunglasses, and slowly said:

"Since he instinctively chose to return to your side when he was at his most out of control, and showed you his most pathetic and crazy side, it means that you are his best 'medicine'."

"As long as you don't care that he's crazy, as long as you're willing to catch him, he'll never truly break."

A long silence fell over the infirmary.

Gojo Satoru sat in the chair, Shoko's words replaying in his mind.

Yes.

Why does he use ordinary people's standards to judge Xiaocheng?

If Xiaocheng truly harbors a bottomless black hole in his heart, if he is truly struggling in that endless void, then what I need to do is not to find some psychologist to "cure" him into a normal person.

Instead, you should open your arms and tell him: It's okay, you can go crazy on me, you can unleash all your paranoia and madness on me.

Because I am the strongest.

I can bear all your brokenness.

Having figured this out, Gojo Satoru felt the weight that had been pressing on his heart vanish instantly, replaced by a clear sense of relief and eagerness.

"Glass!" Gojo Satoru suddenly stood up, the chair scraping against the floor with a screeching sound.

The worry on his face vanished, replaced by that arrogant yet radiant smile once more.

"Thanks! You were a genius today!" Gojo Satoru Shoko gave a big thumbs-up, turned around and walked out, her steps so light she almost flew.

"I've made up my mind, I'm going to pick my boyfriend up from get off work!"

Watching Gojo Satoru rush out of the infirmary like a gust of wind, without even closing the door, Shoko rubbed her temples speechlessly.

"A lovestruck idiot..."

She muttered something under her breath, picked up the cigarette on the table again, and couldn't help but let a very faint smile appear on her lips.

For Gojo Satoru to show this kind of expression...

That doctor is definitely not ordinary.