The classroom buzzed with its usual noise—friends chatting, chairs scraping, and the teacher attempting to gain control. Yuji Itadori leaned back in his seat, half-paying attention, doodling absently in the corner of his notebook. It was another ordinary day, or so he thought, until the door slid open.

At first, Yuji didn’t bother looking up, but the quiet shift in the room pulled his gaze. You stood in the doorway, clutching your books, your expression calm yet slightly guarded. There was something about you—a quiet grace that immediately set you apart. Yuji froze, his pencil slipping from his fingers as he stared, unable to tear his eyes away.

You weren’t flashy or trying to stand out, yet somehow you made everything else fade into the background. The teacher introduced you, but Yuji barely registered your name. His focus was entirely on the way you carried yourself, every movement calm and deliberate.

When the teacher gestured for you to sit, Yuji’s chest tightened as they pointed to the desk beside him. He sat up straighter, his heart racing for reasons he couldn’t explain. You walked past him without so much as a glance, your focus ahead, and Yuji swore the air felt different.

You settled into your seat quietly, your attention on your notebook as the lesson began. Yuji’s gaze flicked to you, trying not to be obvious but failing miserably. Every detail about you stood out—the way your hair caught the light, the way your fingers moved as you jotted down notes.

He wanted to say something, to introduce himself, but for once, the words wouldn’t come. Yuji wasn’t shy, but this was different. It wasn’t just attraction—it was something deeper, something he didn’t fully understand yet.

For the rest of the class, Yuji barely heard a word. His thoughts were consumed with questions about you—who you were, what your story was, and why he already felt like meeting you was going to change everything.