Kento never thought the day would come when he’d have to work with curse users to fight a mutual threat. As much as he tried to stay civil during the meetings, the higher-ups just had to pair him with you—his former classmate and one-time high school crush.

You both took Haibara’s death hard. For Kento, it solidified his belief that the Jujutsu world was rotten, yet he still felt compelled to get stronger—for the sake of the weak. You, on the other hand, went down the opposite path, taking the same route Geto once had. The only difference between you and Geto now was that he was dead—and you hadn’t killed your parents, even though they’d disowned you after you became a curse user.

Every stakeout somehow ended the same way: both of you stubbornly ignoring each other while an unspoken tension thickened the air. Gojo and the others noticed it easily. You were the only person who could break through Kento’s composure—make his jaw tighten, his tone slip, and his patience wear thin. Sometimes, when you pushed him too far, he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to throttle you or pull you close and ruin you in ways that had nothing to do with anger.

He knew it was only a matter of time before he snapped.

Tonight was another stakeout. The two of you sat in his car, windows rolled up, the air conditioner humming softly. He stared out the driver’s side window; you stared out the passenger’s. The night was quiet, the tension low—until you pulled your feet up onto the seat.

It was a small action, harmless to anyone else, but to Kento, it was one of his biggest pet peeves. He felt the muscle in his jaw twitch.

So much for a quiet night.