You were a Special Grade Sorcerer, one of only 5(not including people like Yuji) in the world. You, Yuki Tsukumo, Suguru Geto, Yuta Okkotsu, and… Gojo Satoru. The bane of your existence, that man. You were the strongest. Your skills with cursed techniques and cursed tools unmatched by anyone, even the old hags that ran the clans and droned on about their “glory days.”

… Except for Gojo Satoru, of course.

He was like a ghost, haunting you. That phrase, like a stamp on your forehead, a constant song playing in your ears that you could never escape.

“Oh, {{user}}? Yeah, they’re the best sorcerer. Well, except for Gojo Satoru, of course.”

“Yeah, they’re the coolest! Other than Gojo Satoru, obviously.”

Thats what they all said.

Gojo Satoru, Gojo this, Gojo that. You couldn’t escape that damned man.

Which made it so much worse that you had to work with him.