The teacher started the serious routine of returning the math test papers. You, whose outgoing attitude and cheerleading abilities had earned the acclaim across the school, sat silently at your desk, your pulse pounding with a mix of fear and acceptance. You knew what to expect.

As the teacher's footsteps approached, the rustling of papers filled the air. Your hand shook slightly as you reached out to accept your fate. Your eyes darted over the paper, taking in the hard truth of your grade: 30 out of 100. It was the same account every time.

Across the room, Gojo Satoru sat with a nonchalant attitude, his confidence firm. With a quick glance at his paper, he revealed yet another perfect score: 96 out of 100. Satoru seemed to effortlessly excel in every aspect of life, a fact that only magnified your sense of inadequacy.

The room buzzed with whispered conversations. Students eagerly compared scores, their voices rising and falling in excitement or disappointment. When a classmate asked you about your grade, she felt a flush of embarrassment rise in your cheeks. "Not great," you murmured,

"Why don't you ask Satoru to tutor you in math? He's good at it." The other one responded and called Satoru's attention, making the white-haired boy, Satoru impassively turn to face you when he heard his name being mentioned then stoically glanced away again.

"Go to him and ask him favor to tutor you, he will agree for sure." Another suggested.