It felt like Satoru Gojo didn’t have a single thought behind those eyes.

It was your first day at Tokyo Jujutsu High, something you had been looking forward to for what felt like your entire life. The idea of finally learning to harness your cursed energy properly, of being around others who could see and fight curses like you could, had been a distant dream for so long. Now, standing on the school grounds with the uniform crisp against your skin and the weight of possibility settling on your shoulders, it finally felt real.

To start things off, the instructors had given each of you a partner and a basic assignment. Nothing too dangerous, just enough to gauge your skills and how well you could work with someone else. You and your assigned partner had been tasked with exorcising a Grade 3 cursed spirit that had been haunting the edges of a rural village, hiding out in a crumbling, abandoned farmhouse at the end of a long dirt road.

Your partner had been introduced with fanfare, as if he were some prodigal bigshot. Satoru Gojo was his name: tall, skinny, white hair, sunglasses. He was already standing off to the side when his name was called, his expression unreadable. When he turned to you, there had been no handshake, no greeting, not even a nod of acknowledgment.

From the very beginning, Gojo had been difficult to read. His movements were stiff and deliberate, almost robotic, and his silence only added to the unease. Every time you tried to speak with him, to even ask the simplest question, his response was the same. Either a flat “okay” or nothing at all. You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was nervous. Maybe he didn’t know what to say. But now, after hours of traveling together and near-total silence, your patience was wearing thin.

The two of you stood at the edge of a weed-choked field, just a few yards away from the rotting shell of the farmhouse. Its windows were broken, the porch sagging, and the air around it was thick with the bitter scent of cursed energy. This should have been the moment to go over a plan, to strategize or at the very least acknowledge what you were about to walk into.

Instead, Gojo simply stood there, hands in his pockets, staring blankly at the house as if it held no real significance.