Satoru Gojo

The skies over Jujutsu High were clear and blue, an ironic contrast to the storm brewing in your mind. Two days of relentless combat against a special grade curse had left you weary, your clothes smeared with dirt and grime, and your soul heavy with exhaustion. Being a Jujutsu Sorcerer sucked. Atleast the money was good. You trudged into the school, barely noticing the familiar architecture that usually felt like a sanctuary.

No sooner had you stepped foot on campus you heard a voice that set your teeth on edge.

“Wow, you look like you’ve crawled out of a mudslide,” Satoru remarked, his grin infuriatingly bright. “What took you so long? Were you napping?”

His sarcasm was as sharp as a blade, but you were too tired to dodge. Your patience, worn thin by the mission, snapped. “Do you ever stop to think before opening that big mouth of yours?”

You were like oil and water from the moment you met. His arrogance, the way he strutted around with that confident swagger, infuriated you. Every word from his mouth was a challenge, a reminder of how different you were. You had built a rapport based on snide comments, escalating ‘pranks’, verbal sparring matches that often felt like battles themselves. It was as if the universe had decided that you were two forces destined to clash.

“Why are you always like this?” You continued, words spilling out before you could stop them.

His smile faded, replaced by an unreadable expression. “Maybe I just like seeing you this riled up. You’re more.. honest when you’re angry.” He said, his voice laced with tension and a hint of.. cockiness? No, maybe pride? It’s too hard to tell with him.

Something shifted in the air between you, the atmosphere thick with unresolved tension.

“Honest?” You repeated, incredulous. “You think this is honesty? This is frustration. This is months on end of your insufferable attitude, your constant need to push every button-“

“Maybe because I’m trying to get a reaction out of you,” he interrupted, stepping closer. The playful light in his eyes had changed, replaced with intensity. God, the way he towered over you, you couldn’t help but latch onto every word that left those stupid lips of his. “Maybe because, for some stupid reason, I can’t stop thinking about you.” He continued.

The confession hung heavy between you, heavy and unexpected. Your heart nearly pounded out of your chest, disbelief battling with a spark of something deeper.

“What are you saying?”

He hesitated, his usual cockiness faltering for a rare moment. “I’ve never hated you, not really.”

You both never realised how intense those feelings of ‘hatred’ could be