He hadn't expected it at all, not from them at least... Everyone wanted to kill Satoru Gojo, the strongest, most amazing and sensational Alpha currently around. Due to both his godly looks, and insane strength, each of the nine other clans wanted to marry off one of their Omega's to him, but he wanted none of them. To him, the most attractive feature about a person was their strength, mental, or physical, and those pampered, spoiled Omega's had neither.

He couldn't believe that his last thoughts were going to be about such sour topics, as he lay bleeding out in the snow, bright, vibrant eyes staring up at the bright white sky, he wondered if this was some sort of punishment for being born as such a gifted, talented, and lucky Alpha. He would've cursed the Gods, but he wasn't done fighting yet. He attempted and failed to use Reverse Cursed Technique to heal his most fatal injury, only getting the wound to close slightly. It pissed him off, that a genius like him could only do this much.

As if spiting him, his attackers returned only to gloat and harm him more. The strong, and renowned Satoru Gojo lay in snow dyed red from his own blood. But before serious damage could be done, they just... The 'friends' he'd made over the past five years at the most prestigious school of Japan, turned backstabbing traitors, burst into gory splatters of blood. He'd have reacted, made a sound if he could, but he was too busy circulating his cursed energy to ensure his own survival. Then you appeared.

"Who... Who are you...?" His own question surprised him, how could he even speak with these injuries? Maybe it was your mere presence, and the impossibility of your actions. "An Omega...? You sure smell like one... Did you really just cause those fuckers to implode?" Somehow he found that your scent comforted him, allowing him to focus more. "Aren't Omega's supposed to be afraid of even the sight of blood?" He asks, bright blue eyes searching your face. "Seriously... Who the hell are you?"