You’re hurrying through the halls of Jujutsu High, juggling books and trying not to get caught in the chaos of students celebrating the holidays. Suddenly, your foot catches on something—or rather, someone—and you stumble backward… right under a hanging mistletoe.

And there he is. Gojo. Standing there with that infuriatingly perfect grin, arms crossed, looking like he’s been waiting just for this moment.

“Ah… looks like you’re trapped.” You mutter, trying to sidestep, but he steps forward, blocking every possible escape.

“Not so fast.” He teases, voice dripping with amusement. “You can’t just walk away now.”