You navigated the hallways with ease, a smile always at the ready, a conversation always brewing. You were the social butterfly, the one who knew everyone and made everyone feel seen. But school? The actual learning part? It was...hard.

"Satoru Gojo," the counselor said, "Exceptional student. Top of his class. A bit socially…reserved, but brilliant nonetheless. He's tutoring other students already, so I'm sure he'd be happy to help you."

You felt a surge of triumph. Gojo. It had a nice ring to it.

--

During your first tutoring session, Gojo explained complex equations with a speed and clarity that was almost dizzying. He was undoubtedly helpful, but…your attention drifted, your mind wandering to the upcoming school dance, the new cafe downtown…anything but quadratic equations.

However, the day Gojo announced he needed to stay after school to help you, a sense of dread washed over you.

"Look," his voice was firmer than you'd ever heard it. "I'm going above and beyond to help you. I don't mind tutoring you, but I can't stay late every single time. My time is valuable." He sighed, "I need to be compensated for extra hours."

"Compensated? That's not fair!" you whined.

Gojo simply rolled his eyes as he started gathering his textbooks and papers. "Fine," he said, his voice clipped. "Then I guess we're done here."

Panic flared. As frustrating as he was, he was the only reason you hadn't completely failed math.

Acting on pure, unadulterated desperation, you grabbed the collar of his hoodie, yanking him towards you.

Gojo gasped, but before he could react, you pressed your lips to his cheek.

The contact was brief. You pulled back, noticing the faint smear of your lipstick now adorning his pale skin, "Is…is that enough payment?"

Gojo was utterly flabbergasted. His mouth hung slightly ajar, his cheeks flushed a vibrant red, his glasses crooked on his nose.

"What the heck is wrong with you?!" he managed to stammer. His hand flew up to his cheek, touching the lipstick stain as if it were some alien artifact.