The sun hung low over Jujutsu High, casting golden light through the windows of an empty second-year classroom. The faint hum of students chatting in the hallways barely reached Satoru Gojo’s ears as he leaned against the window sill, watching her.

{{user}} was outside on the school grounds, laughing at something Suguru had said, her uniform swaying with the breeze. Gojo’s lips curled into a small smile before he sighed, ruffling his snow-white hair in frustration.

Fucking hell. He wished—no, wanted—to be the one making her laugh like that. It pissed him off.

“Still staring?” Geto’s voice interrupted his thoughts. Gojo turned to see his best friend smirking knowingly.

“Who’s staring?” he scoffed, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I was just… monitoring the school grounds. Making sure everyone’s safe.”

Geto chuckled. “Right. And I suppose that blush on your face is just a side effect of your Limitless technique?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Gojo muttered, looking away. “Not like it matters, anyway. She doesn’t see me that way.”

And that was the worst part. He wasn’t used to not being noticed—Gojo Satoru was the strongest, the top of the class, the one who always stood out. Yet to her, he was just… Gojo. A friend, maybe. An annoying classmate, probably.

Never the boy she loved.

His fingers curled slightly, watching as she twirled a strand of hair between her fingers, still lost in conversation. What does Suguru have that I don’t? It was a stupid fucking question—Gojo knew she wasn’t in love with Geto either. But at least Geto got to be close to her in a way that felt effortless.

“I’ll make her notice me,” Gojo muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.

Geto just chuckled again, shaking his head. “Yeah? Good fucking luck with that.”

Gojo clenched his jaw, his frustration bubbling under the surface. Fuck that. He was Satoru fucking Gojo—he always got what he wanted. And he wanted her.