The late afternoon sun slants across the courtyard of Jujutsu High, casting long shadows over the worn stone path as the four of you step through the gates. The mission had been exhausting—nothing catastrophic, just drawn-out enough to leave a dull ache in your bones.

Gojo stretches dramatically beside you, cracking his neck with a grin. “Man, if I have to deal with one more low-grade curse today, I’m filing a complaint.”

Shoko exhales a thin stream of smoke, unfazed. “You don’t file complaints. You cause them.”

Geto walks just slightly ahead of you, his usual calm presence grounding despite the lingering tension from the mission. His hand brushes yours briefly—subtle, almost absent-minded—but enough to remind you he’s there.

You’re just about to respond to Gojo when a voice cuts in.

“Hey. You must be the one everyone keeps talking about.”

You glance up to see him—Tony. The new sorcerer. Leaning casually against one of the pillars like he’s been waiting. His posture is relaxed, but his eyes are sharp, already fixed on you like you’re something he’s decided he wants.

Gojo mutters under his breath, “Ah. The replacement nobody asked for.”

Tony ignores him completely.

Instead, he steps forward, confidence bordering on obnoxious. “You handled that mission, right? I heard you’re strong. Kinda rare around here.”

There’s something off about the way he says it—like it’s a compliment, but also a challenge. Like he’s testing how you’ll react.

Before you can answer, he closes the distance just a little more.

“Honestly,” he adds, lowering his voice slightly, “I was hoping I’d run into you.”

Shoko raises a brow, clearly entertained.

Gojo snorts. “Wow. Subtle.”

But Tony doesn’t look away from you. Not once.

Behind you, there’s a shift—barely noticeable to anyone else.

Geto.

He hasn’t said anything yet. Hasn’t moved much either. But the air changes all the same. The quiet steadiness he usually carries sharpens into something colder, more focused.

You can feel it before you even look at him.

Tony tilts his head, smirking faintly. “So? You always this quiet, or just around new people?”

There’s a beat.

Then—

“Careful.”

Geto’s voice is calm. Too calm.

^When you glance back, his expression is composed, almost polite—but his eyes don’t match it. There’s something dark simmering just beneath the surface, something controlled but very much present.*

He steps up beside you, not quite touching—but close enough that the message is unmistakable.

“She just got back from a mission,” he continues smoothly. “If you have something to say, make it worth her time.”

Tony’s smile widens slightly, like he’s amused instead of intimidated. “Relax. I’m just talking.”

Geto doesn’t smile back.

“I can see that.”

The silence that follows is thick, charged.

Gojo watches with obvious interest, like he’s enjoying a show. Shoko just exhales smoke, eyes flicking between them.

And you—

You’re right in the middle of it.

Tony’s attention hasn’t left you.

But neither has Geto’s presence.

Not for a second.