The strongest me is running amok in Yokohama

Gojo Satoru walked along the corridor of the base, heading for his room.

When he got to his door, the boy stopped suddenly.He didn't look back, just opened his mouth and asked the darkness behind him, "Why are you still following me?"

After a few seconds, Gogol walked out from the corner with ease, and replied with a smile, "Vengelie didn't arrange a room for me."

Gojo Satoru was unmoved: "You can choose an empty room to sleep in. There is only one bed in my room."

"No," Gogol said that he was so brazen, "I want to share a bed with you."

Wujo Wujo tilted his head: "Well, anyway, with your supernatural power, it's useless even if I block you from the door."

He pushed open the door and walked in first.

Gogol chuckled and followed him into the room.

Gojo Satoru walked to the edge of the bed and sat down on the side close to the pillow, making a mark on the not-so-soft sheet.He raised his arm, patted on his side, and his complexion turned gentle: "What do you want from me?"

Gogol obeyed his movements, took two steps slowly and arrived at the bedside, and sat down with his legs crossed.The young man's silver-white hair gleamed dizzyingly with the lighting of the room, like a bony fish swimming through the river.

"No..." He turned his face sideways, his rough hair brushed gently from the side of his ear, "It's nothing serious."

Gogol frowned slightly.It can be seen that the young man looks a little confused.

He scratched his cheek with his index finger and asked, "Do all people become heroic spirits after death?"

"I don't know," Gojo Satoru stretched out his hand and pulled the pillow behind him into his arms, and replied slowly with a sleepy look, "I don't know as much about this matter as Dostoevsky. "

When Gogol heard this, he replied almost immediately: "Fei Jia may use false information to mislead me, so I won't ask him."

After saying this, Gogol threw the cards in his hand to the ground and let them scatter diagonally like stone flakes on a landslide.

Gojo Satoru looked away from the poker and returned to Gogol: "So?"

Gogol also looked back.

Gojo Satoru, like him, has silver-white hair that is obviously different from ordinary people.However, unlike Gogol's long hair, which is neatly groomed and carefully braided every day, Gojo Satoru's hair is short and messy, and the hair quality is also softer.

White hair goes well with blue eyes, reminiscent of the morning sky.

Gogol thought so.

Perhaps due to the fever, the boy's sky-blue eyes were not as clear-headed as usual, but more like a stream of ice that was about to melt.It is indeed cold, but it also brings a little warmth of early spring.

Wujo Wu saw that Gogol had been staring at him blankly, so he had to guess what the other party wanted to say: "To be honest, I thought you would believe Dostoevsky more. After all, in my It seems that the relationship between the two of you is not bad?"

Gogol came back to his senses, and put his clown card face up on the quilt between himself and Gojo Satoru.

Generally speaking, he was indeed a talkative person at ordinary times, but at this time he rarely lost his mind, and replied not seriously: "After all, I am not an idiot."

Gojo Satoru raised his eyebrows, and took the card to his side.The boy looked at the ostentatious clown on it, turned it around in his hand, and threw it into the pile of playing cards on the ground.

Gojo Satoru agreed, "That's right, that's why you didn't get angry after Dostoevsky's invitation was rejected by me."

Taking advantage of the poker being thrown out, Gogol moved his body again and got closer to the five-of-a-kind.He stretched out a hand wearing a wine-red glove, and after pressing Wujo Satoru's shoulder, he leaned his entire upper body over.

"I said," the young man's breath breathed in Gojo Gojo's ear, with a sense of warmth and humidity, like a subtropical breeze blowing by, "Gojo, you look like a balloon."

Gojo Satoru moved his head away uncomfortably, moved away from him, and frowned for a while, thinking about it: "Isn't that what we said when we first met? It happened a long time ago."

Gogol smiled happily.

He leaned back | and threw himself into the white quilt, making a slight "boom".

Gojo Satoru was really sleepy, and didn't want to continue discussing topics like "balloons" or "freedom" with this person. He patted his pillow and threw it back where it was before asking lazily. : "Are you going to lay the floor today?"

Gogol opened one eye, and yawned dazedly, as if infected by Wutiao's sleepiness.

He moved his body, and after making a mess of the quilt abruptly, he managed to lie down next to Gogo's legs.

"No," Gogol said with a very unhappy expression, "Subject to rounding up, I'm considered Vongola's guest. Since I'm a guest, how can you let me sleep on the floor?"

Gojo Satoru slapped Gogol on the face: "...Could it be that you still plan to sleep in the same bed with me? Now I will let you fall asleep physically, it will be faster if you are dreaming."

Gogol moved closer.At this moment, his hair had been messed up by himself, and it didn't look neat at all.

He asked again, "Do you feel like a hydrogen balloon now, Satoru?"

The young man squinted his eyes, which were one tone lighter than gold, and the teasing expression in his eyes could not be hidden at all, and his expression was so bad that it made people want to get angry.

Gojo Satoru recalls his identity in this world.He didn't affirm Gogol's words, but he didn't deny them either. He just replied noncommittally in a low voice: "It's just a coincidence."

Gogol stared at him: "Coincidence?"

"Coincidence!" Gogol repeated with an exaggerated voice, almost burst out laughing, "Well, indeed, you are right."

The young man parted the bangs covering his forehead, and took off the mask that was a little loose due to the movement.His two eyes of different colors were looking at Wujo Satoru who was frowning, and he stretched out his hand to brush away the silver-white hair falling in front of his ear.

"Maybe your identity as a Heroic Spirit is a coincidence, but that's not what I'm referring to." Gogol propped himself up again, and put his head on Gojo Satoru's shoulder, "The first time I saw you At that time, I discovered that Gojo Satoru was light and fluffy, a character who could always fly in the sky without the need for wind."

"Eat when you are hungry, add clothes when you are cold, and feel humiliated when you are laughed at when you are down. This is why ordinary people can't fly, and they can't understand the meaning of pursuing freedom. Because of this, they can only be standing. The scarecrow on the ground." Gogol got closer and closer, and even mixed the hair of the two people with similar colors, "I don't want the thread under the balloon to be caught by someone, Wu."

Gojo Satoru looked at the Russian in front of him.Gogol's eyes shining like molten gold were also looking at the boy opposite him.

Five fingers curled up, and flicked hard on Gogol's forehead.

The young man pursed his lips and covered his blushing forehead.He didn't cry out in pain, but puffed his cheeks and asked aggressively: "What are you doing? This atmosphere is not suitable for doing such a thing, right?"

Gojo Satoru flicked his fingers: "Don't look at me with such strange eyes."

Gogol returned the past with puzzled eyes: "?"

He thought about it carefully for a while, but he still didn't feel that there was anything wrong with the look in Wujo Satoru's eyes just now.

Gojo Satoru explained, "You wanted to kill me just now, didn't you?"

Hearing these words, Gogol opened his mouth wide and gave himself a high five.

He moved a little away, and grabbed Wutiao's hand: "It's nothing, after all, I haven't really made a move yet."

Gogol said incomprehensible words, but the feelings in his heart were absolutely true: "Because I am a complete weirdo, a murderer for pleasure, and a sinner who takes pleasure in abusing others, I can't control it." Killing intent for you!"

"This is the highest compliment, Wu!"

Gojo Satoru pulled his fingers back from the cold cloth.He knew that it was impossible to explain to Gogol the normal way of expressing emotions to Gogol—one is that Gogol is a completely abnormal guy, and he is also committed to breaking through common sense. Second, the Russian's madness is only superficial, and Gojo Satoru is sure that Gogol does not actually have the mental illness that other people think he should have.

Well, to be precise, despite Gogol's excessive paranoia about "freedom", he does not suffer from any mental problems.

In the past, Gojo Satoru either ignored such logically consistent idiots, or directly attacked them hard, letting them experience what it means to be beaten from society.

But now he is facing his half friend, Gogol, who is earnestly talking to him.

Therefore, Gojo Satoru just sighed, showing a rare connivance towards others: "Go on, finish talking quickly so I can go to sleep."

Gogol continued enthusiastically: "I don't want you to be bound by anything, because the freedom I'm looking for doesn't have to be achieved by myself first - if you can let me understand what is real freedom , then I will definitely help you on this road.”

"There are two ways to accompany a balloon that always flies high." The young man said, "One is to hold the string of the balloon to prevent it from flying farther and farther. In the end, because I can’t stand the atmospheric pressure and explode; the other is to watch it, watch it float to the edge of the universe, watch its explosion and rebirth.”

Gogol smiled and asked the question back: "Which one do you think is better?"

Gojo Satoru lowered his eyes, feeling that the temperature in the room had risen a little unconsciously.He could feel an extremely dangerous and ambiguous atmosphere lingering between himself and Gogol at this moment.

He didn't want to show weakness, so he stretched out his fingers, pinched Gogol's pale ears, and asked, "What do you think?"

Gojo Satoru lightly pressed against the ear of the young man opposite him, leaned out his upper body, and his lips, which were a little scorching due to the persistent low-grade fever, swept past Gogol's eyes, and approached the lower part of his face.

Then, print on the raised soft part.

"What do you think is better?"

Gojo Satoru let go of his hand and asked the smiling young man in front of him.