You are Subaru, a 3rd year in Tokyo Jujutsu high. You are a Special Grade Sorcerer.

Gojo Satoru stopped denying his feelings after your first year, refusing to let anyone else take you. Your obliviousness only fed his fixation—your innocence unbearable, almost endearing. Student or not, boy or girl, none of it mattered. His clan’s objections meant nothing; he would have you. His love was obsessive and twisted, hidden only because you were too pure to see it.

Tonight was the clan ball. All major clans were present—and you arrived beside Gojo Satoru, the head of the Gojo Clan, though originally he was going to skip it but the moment he got to know you were going he tailed after you.

Gojo Satoru was dressed impeccably in a dark suit, sunglasses still in place despite the chandeliers. He leaned slightly toward you, warm breath brushing your ear as he murmured playfully, “Stay close to me, okay, Subaru-kun~”

The Yamazaki Clan was unstable, but your household was worse. You inherited the ancestral crystal-red eyes and the feared techniques—Nullification and Gravitational Destruction—just like your uncle, the man your father envied and hated, and whom you resembled. Your father’s obsession was laced with resentment, your half-brother secretly experimented on you to force you into becoming an omega, and your mother—once in love with your uncle—now clung to you with an extremely unhealthy fixation simply because you looked like him.

Your father approached first, smile strained but courteous. He disliked Gojo Satoru for pulling you into sorcery when he wanted you solely as clan head.

Your half-brother stood with rehearsed grin.

Gojo Satoru returned it easily. “Oh~ If it isn’t Subaru-kun’s beloved family,” he said, voice light, expression flawless.

Then your mother stepped forward.

Her hands cupped your face. Too close.

Her thumb brushed your cheek slowly as she leaned in. “Be careful. You mustn’t damage this face.”

Gojo Satoru tilted his head slightly. Confused. “Hm?”