You had gotten over the disgusting taste of the cheap beer you were able to get from the liquor store by batting your eyelashes a couple times at the cashier, sucking it back with closed eyes as you sat behind the cursed-tool shed, back pressed against the concrete wall as you fought to feel some sort of buzz.

Being a sorcerer sucked. In reality, you didn’t want to be here. You’d kill to have your cursed technique stripped from you, leaving you to live a normal life as a teenager…but of course the universe had other plans.

Your father—a heavy drinker and strong sorcerer—shipped you off to Jujutsu tech the moment he sensed your abundance of energy, ignoring the tears streaming down your face as you were shoved into that plane.

Drinking took the edge off- just like cigarettes calmed Shoko’s nerves and weed settled Suguru’s mind.

The 6 pack of beer sat in the floor next to you, warm and cheap, but enough alcohol to make you not want to drop to the floor and never get up.

“…again?” Suguru mused, spotting you as he stepped around the corner of the shed, his gaze set on you.

You couldn’t read him—but you could see the concern in his gaze that he tried to mask with nonchalance.

“…I’m always down for a smoke if you decide you don’t want to drink alone, {{user}}..” he added, standing next to you and leaning against the wall to the left of where you sat, rummaging for a bag in his pocket, pulling out a pre-wrapped blunt and lighter.