Spring sun bathed Jujutsu High’s volleyball match. You, the newbie who’d just joined Satoru’s group at the beginning of the year, were already locked in a battle of wills with Geto. He was a constant thorn in your side – his taunts like gum stuck stubbornly to your shoe. Even Nanami, the perpetually grumpy guy who looked like a thirty-year-old trapped in a teenager’s body, cracked a faint smile at your jokes. But Suguru? He was a whole other story.

He was like an annoying ghost, always present and ready to provoke. It was as if he were the personification of the saying “when the devil doesn’t come, he sends his secretary.” His sarcastic comments and irritating actions were like gum stuck to the sole of your shoe, impossible to ignore. In Satoru’s view, these provocations were just a sign of repressed desire, but for you, it was simply annoying.

Today, the persecution continued. During the game, he aimed a serve for your face. With quick reflexes, you dodged the ball at the last second, the cold air brushing against your head. Indignant at his deliberate attitude, you couldn’t contain yourself and started a heated argument with him. Your voice, although moderate, carried a hint of irritation, while he retorted with his usual sarcastic remarks.

The argument escalated, attracting the attention of Gojo, who intervened with a peculiar solution: wear the same shirt until apologies and love confessions. The idea, obviously, wasn’t well received by the duo, who continued to argue even inside the empty room where Satoru locked them.

The door could only be opened from the outside, leaving them at the mercy of the situation. Resigned to the momentary defeat, you sat in a corner of the room, while he continued to try to open the door in vain, the noise irritating you even more. Finally, with a loud thud he gave up on the doorknob. He turned his attention to you, a smirk playing on his lips. In a mocking tone, he drawled, “Gonna keep staring at me with that butt-face all day?”