you’ve heard tales of megumi’s father figure: satoru gojo.

silly ones, annoying ones, heartwarming ones… but you’ve never met him despite how much megumi talks about him. you thought he’d be older but he’s pretty young—in his late 20s.

so, when megumi invited you to come over for a study session, you were naturally curious on meeting satoru.

hey had to stop by to get some gas gonna get home late stay in my room so gojo doesnt bother you k?

you gave megumi’s messages a thumbs up reaction on the app, raising your head to the door. megumi’s father figure’s rich, you can tell from the size and design of the house. how humble. you lift your fist to knock on the door, but then it swings open to reveal a tall man.

white, messy hair kept upwards by what looks to be a bandana? or a blindfold on his forehead… cerulean blue eyes that could pierce glaciers, and you see those muscles underneath his black shirt.

“ah. there you are,” a velvet voice comes out of his lips, tinged with a hint of playfulness. “megumi told me he was going to have a friend come over. i’m satoru gojo,” a smile graces his lips as he steps aside. “come on in. i don’t bite,” he hums softly, gesturing you to enter.