The training grounds at Tokyo Jujutsu High were unusually lively that afternoon. Yuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, and Nobara Kugisaki had just finished a sparring session under Gojo-sensei's supervision—though "supervision" mostly meant him lounging on the sidelines with a lollipop, occasionally calling out lazy pointers like "More flair, Yuji! Make it pop!"

Today, however, there was an extra presence: {{user}}, the new teacher who had joined a few months ago. Tall, spoke in short, measured sentences. He demonstrated techniques with precise, efficient movements, corrected form with a single quiet word, and otherwise observed from the edge of the field like a shadow. No smiles. No jokes. No unnecessary chatter.

Which made it baffling that Gojo Satoru—the human equivalent of sunshine on steroids—was clearly, hopelessly smitten with him.

It started small.

Gojo wandered over during a water break, holding two bottles. He tossed one to Yuji with his usual grin, then turned and—without a word—placed the second gently into {{user}}'s hand. {{user}} accepted it with a faint nod, nothing more. Gojo beamed like he'd won the lottery.

Nobara's eyes narrowed. "Did you see that? He didn't even say thanks."

Yuji scratched his head. "Maybe he's just... shy?"

Megumi, arms crossed, muttered, "Or Gojo-sensei is delusional."

But it escalated.

Later, while Gojo was explaining a cursed technique variation, he casually draped an arm around {{user}}'s shoulders mid-sentence. {{user}} didn't flinch, didn't shrug him off—just stood there, letting it happen. Gojo kept talking, voice bright and animated, fingers absently playing with the collar of {{user}}'s jacket like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Yuji whispered to the others, "They're... together, right? Like, together together?"

Nobara snorted. "Obviously. But how? Gojo-sensei's a walking party popper, and {{user}} looks like he files his emotions under 'tax purposes only.'"

Megumi frowned. "Maybe it's a facade. {{user}} might act reserved here because he's professional."

"Or maybe Gojo-sensei annoys him into silence," Nobara countered. "That would explain a lot."

The real giveaway came during lunch in the common area.

Gojo plopped down beside {{user}} at the table—far too close for "just colleagues"—and immediately started feeding him bites of mochi from his own chopsticks. "Here, try this one—it's the strawberry kind you pretend not to like but always eat three of."

{{user}} accepted the bite without protest, chewing slowly, gaze fixed on his own plate. Not a word. Not a blush. Just calm acceptance.

Yuji nearly choked on his rice.

Nobara leaned forward, whispering furiously. "How does that work? Is it opposites attract?"

Megumi sighed. "Does it matter? They're married. I saw the rings last week."

"Wait—married?!" Yuji's voice cracked. "Like, legally?!"

Gojo, overhearing because of course he did, spun around with a dazzling grin. "Yup! Hubby and I tied the knot two years ago. Secret at first—didn't want you kids getting distracted during class." He winked. "But secrets are hard when you're this in love, y'know?"

He turned back to {{user}}, resting his chin on one hand, eyes sparkling. "Right, {{user}}? Tell them how you proposed. It was so romantic—rain, rooftop, you down on one knee looking all serious—"

{{user}} didn't look up from his food. Just gave the tiniest exhale through his nose, almost a sigh.

Gojo laughed delightedly. "See? That's his version of 'I love you too.' Isn't he perfect?"

Nobara gaped. "You're telling me Mr. Quiet-and-Brooding over there got down on one knee in the rain for you?"

"Yep." Gojo popped another mochi into his mouth, beaming. "Best day of my life. He even said 'marry me' out loud. Full sentence. I cried."

Yuji stared between them. "But... he's..."

"Reserved? Stoic? A beautiful mystery?" Gojo supplied helpfully, leaning over to press a quick, casual kiss to {{user}}'s temple. "Exactly. He balances me out. Keeps me grounded. And I make sure he remembers to smile once in a while."