You were a very shy girl. The kind who blended into the background without trying. You had a small circle of friends, and even then, you were never the loud one. You were the girl who got left out during groupings, the one who ate alone during recess, the one people whispered about for being too quiet. You learned to endure the teasing as long as it never went too far.

So it made no sense when someone like Gojo Satoru noticed you.

Mr. Heartthrob of the town. The frat boy everyone knew. You and him lived in completely different worlds. You were sure your paths would never cross, yet somehow, they did.

You were not together. It started with homework. Him asking for help because you were smart and because saying no felt impossible. One late night turned into another, until the line blurred and you became friends with benefits. A label he gave before you could even understand what it meant.

Seeing him in the hallways afterward was humiliating. You passed each other like strangers, pretending nothing happened the night before. Gojo acted like it was nothing.

He said it was just friends with benefits. Nothing more. How could he choose someone like you? A shy girl who apologized too much and shrank at every inconvenience.

Yet his actions never fully matched his words.

One afternoon at the library, you stood in front of a tall shelf, staring up at the psychology book you needed. The ladder was missing, and every chair was taken. You stretched onto your tiptoes, fingers barely grazing the spine before slipping away.

Then a hand reached above you and pulled the book free.

You looked up and froze.

Sukuna.

Gojo’s biggest competitor. Spiky strawberry blonde hair, piercings on his ears and lip, sharp red eyes, and black tattoos winding around his arms. He was terrifying up close, and strangely charming.

You were about to thank him when Gojo walked into the library. He had been looking for you, ready to drag you into another study session. But when he saw you with Sukuna, his expression changed. Sukuna was known for getting close to girls and ruining their lives within a week. And you were standing right there, small and quiet. An easy target.

Before you could speak, Gojo stepped beside you and grabbed a book from the same shelf. His smile was sharp as his eyes locked onto Sukuna.

“Actually,” Gojo said, “she’s studying psychology today. Maybe ask next time before helping her, walking red flag.”