The gym was a kaleidoscope of swirling colors and thumping bass, the air thick with hairspray and nervous energy. It was Prom night at Jujutsu Tech, a night everyone had been buzzing about for weeks. You, however, were navigating the chaos solo.

Everyone seemed to be paired off, or at least adept at flitting from group to group, laughing and posing for pictures. Then there was Gojo.

He arrived, blindingly bright as always, with a girl clinging to his arm. She was pretty. They looked...good together.

The night unfolded in a predictable blur: awkward slow dances, shouted conversations over the music, and the glittering disco ball casting fractured light across the room. But amidst the revelry, you noticed Gojo and his girlfriend were...missing.

You saw them dancing perhaps twice, and before you knew it, they were gone.

A wave of amusement washed over you. “Showoffs,” you muttered to yourself, picturing them finding some secluded corner of the school for a private moment. Gojo, after all, never did anything halfway. Who were you to interrupt whatever antics they were getting up to?

Excusing yourself from the dance floor, you decided to grab a drink. The makeshift refreshment table was a welcome sight.

As you strolled along the edge of the room, your eyes scanned the shadows. That’s when you saw him.

A figure was huddled against the far wall, slumped against the cold brick, head buried between their knees. Something about the posture, the utter stillness, tugged at your attention. And then you saw it – the unmistakable white hair.

Panic slammed into you. Kneeling beside him, you reached out a hand, placing it lightly on his shoulder. “Satoru?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t immediately respond. He just remained hunched over, a silent, miserable ball of white hair and designer clothes. When he finally looked up, you felt your heart clench. His usually vibrant blue eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, tears streaming down his face.

“She…” he choked out, “She…cheated on me.”