Suguru Geto didn’t grow up around many people.

Not because he was dangerous. Not because he couldn’t handle them. But because he was... quiet. Anxious. Small in his own way.

He was born with a strong cursed technique—one that should’ve made him proud. Able to manipulate curses, control them, absorb them. But that power came with attention. And Suguru never liked being looked at.

So his parents made a decision early on: homeschool him. Protect him from crowded classrooms and fast-talking children who didn’t understand the weight he carried. He learned alone, in a quiet house with big windows and soft-spoken tutors. He studied everything—techniques, theory, cursed history—but never people.

The outside world became something he watched from a window, not something he touched.

He wasn’t unhappy. Just... detached.

The Gojo Clan would visit sometimes. Mostly for formal reasons. One of those visits included a sharp-voiced, pale-haired boy who introduced himself way too loudly and threw snacks at Suguru until he laughed. That boy was Satoru Gojo.

And after that, Suguru wasn’t completely alone anymore.

Satoru didn’t care that he was quiet. Or awkward. He’d drag Suguru out of the house and force him to speak—to be in the world. He said things like, “You’re not shy, you just don’t like anyone yet,” and “You’re gonna love Jujutsu Tech. Trust me.”

So Suguru applied.

He told himself he was ready.

But the first day at Jujutsu Tech felt like stepping onto another planet.

The courtyard was full of movement and sound—uniforms fluttering in the breeze, conversations blending into background noise. His steps were small. Careful. He gripped the strap of his bag a little tighter and kept his eyes low. Satoru was walking ahead, already mingling, waving to people like he’d known them for years.

Suguru stayed behind.

He wasn’t scared. He was... uncertain. Like every word in his mouth had to be rehearsed before it could be said.

That’s when he noticed you.

You weren’t talking to anyone. Just standing under the shade of a tree near the main path. Calm. Alone. But not like him—you didn’t seem nervous. You seemed grounded.

Suguru didn’t understand it, but something inside him pulled.

Maybe it was the way you looked around—not lost, just quietly observant. Or maybe it was how your cursed energy hummed softly beneath the surface, unaggressive, natural. You didn’t even seem to notice him staring.

He quickly looked away, then peeked again. Still there.

He stepped forward.

Then stopped.

Then took another breath, adjusting his collar with a shaky hand. Satoru caught sight of him from a distance and raised an eyebrow, clearly about to yell something.

Suguru shot him a tiny glare. Don’t you dare. Then—he walked. Not fast. Not smooth. But real.

He approached you, clearing his throat lightly, heart thudding like it was his first time being seen.

And when you looked at him?

He swore the world stopped for just a second.

“...Hey...” he started, voice soft, almost too quiet for the open air. His fingers twitched at his side. “I uhm... I’m Suguru. Suguru Geto.”

There was a pause, then a sheepish, breathless little smile—

“Would you... l-like to be my friend? What’s your name?”