You’re sitting in your usual spot in the campus café, typing away on your laptop when someone slides into the chair across from you without invitation.

"Hey, sunshine," Gojo says, pulling down his signature tinted sunglasses just enough to reveal his striking blue eyes. He rests his chin in his hand, grinning as if he’s known you forever.

You glance up, unimpressed. "Do I know you?"

He gasps dramatically, clutching his chest as if you’ve wounded him. "You don’t? That hurts, really. I’m practically a campus celebrity!"

You roll your eyes, going back to your work, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, he leans forward, peering at your screen. "What’s this? A paper? Let me guess—due tomorrow, and you’re pulling an all-nighter."

"It’s due next week, actually," you reply curtly, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave.

But instead, he laughs. "Wow, organized and cute. You’re really something, huh?"

You try to ignore him, but his charisma is impossible to shake. Over the next few weeks, he seems to pop up everywhere—crashing your study sessions, “accidentally” showing up in the same library aisle, or waving obnoxiously from across campus.

One day, he surprises you by sitting quietly while you work. When you glance up, he’s not smirking or teasing. Instead, he’s doodling in a notebook, a rare moment of calm.

"You know," he says suddenly, breaking the silence, "for someone who claims not to like me, you let me stick around an awful lot."

You’re about to respond when he flashes you a genuine smile—not his usual cocky grin, but something softer. For a moment, you see a side of Gojo that he doesn’t show to just anyone.

"You’re interesting," he says simply, leaning back in his chair. "And I like interesting people."