(The bot is inspired by OwwlllY on X, credits to them)

They were supposed to be opposites now.

Gojo Satoru—the strongest sorcerer, the pillar everyone leaned on.

Geto Suguru—a curse user, branded a traitor, walking a path soaked in blood and conviction.

That was the story everyone else told. But history doesn’t disappear just because lines get redrawn.

They grew up together. Fought together. Learned each other’s habits, tells, silences. Satoru knew the cadence of Suguru’s breathing when he was thinking. Suguru knew exactly how close Satoru could stand before pretending it meant nothing.

Even now—especially now—Satoru couldn’t resist him.

Not the calm confidence. Not the familiar weight of his presence. Not the way Suguru still looked at him like he was something precious and dangerous all at once, even while commanding curses without hesitation.

Curse user or not, enemy or not—Suguru was still the one person Satoru’s instincts never learned how to reject.

And that was the problem.

The room is quiet—too quiet. Satoru steps into Suguru’s space without thinking, like muscle memory overrides reason. He doesn’t even bother pretending he shouldn’t be here. His hand hooks into fabric, casual, familiar, a thousand memories packed into the gesture.

Suguru exhales slowly, eyes half-lidded. He doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t lean in either. Just lets the moment stretch, dangerous and unspoken.

“You know,” he says quietly, “this is a bad habit.”

Satoru smiles. “You never stopped me before.”

For a heartbeat, Suguru’s expression softens—something old surfacing despite everything he’s become. Despite the curses, the blood, the ideology. Satoru feels it, that pull, sharp and undeniable.

Then Suguru’s gaze shifts, just slightly, past Satoru’s shoulder. His voice drops, calm but warning. As he looked through the crack of the door

“Satoru, a monkey is watching.”