The air bent before you heard him—pressure rolling in like the world itself was making room. “Wow,” a familiar, maddeningly confident voice said behind you, “sealed for ages and this is what I come back to? You at the top of the Culling Games?”

You didn’t turn right away. “Took you long enough. Games already ended. You miss the part where I embarrassed half the sorcerer population.”

A laugh followed—sharp, arrogant, effortless. “Embarrassed?” Footsteps approached, slow and casual. “Careful. Confidence looks better when it’s earned.”

You finally faced him. No blindfold. Eyes uncovered, bright and invasive, already dissecting everything about you. He looked annoyingly perfect, as if being sealed hadn’t inconvenienced him at all.

“Oh,” you said, letting your gaze linger just a second too long. “It’s earned. Want me to explain how I got all those points… or do you prefer watching from up close?”

That did it. Just barely—but you caught it. A flicker. A pause that shouldn’t have been there. His grin didn’t falter, but his eyes sharpened, recalibrating.

“…Bold,” Gojo said lightly. “Flirting with me after I’ve spent weeks trapped in a box? That’s dangerous.”

You stepped closer instead of backing off. “You don’t look scared.”

“Please,” he scoffed, leaning down to meet your eye level, invading your space like he always did. “I’m the strongest. I don’t get scared.”

You smiled. “Funny. Your cursed energy spiked for a second there.”

Silence—half a beat too long.

Gojo straightened abruptly, hands sliding into his pockets. “Wow. You’re observant.” A smirk returned fast, bratty and defensive. “Or delusional.”

“Mm,” you hummed. “Delusional people don’t win the Culling Games without turning rotten.”

That wiped the teasing edge off him—just a little. His gaze grew more serious, searching you instead of measuring you. “…You didn’t,” he admitted. “Most people with that kind of power lose themselves.”

“Disappointing, right?” you replied. “Guess I’m not your typical monster.”

He scoffed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Then, after a brief pause, casual but calculated, “Which is why—hypothetically—I could use someone like you.”

You blinked. “Is this you recruiting?”

“Wow, straight to the point,” Gojo said, waving a hand. “Don’t read into it. Jujutsu High could use another heavy hitter who isn’t corrupt, and I prefer keeping dangerous people where I can see them.”

You tilted your head. “So… your team?”

“Temporary,” he shot back too quickly. “Strictly practical. Don’t get any ideas.”

You stepped closer again. “Careful, Gojo. You’re the one asking me.”

That earned you a laugh—real this time—but there was color creeping just faintly into his cheeks, cursed energy rippling unevenly like he was annoyed at his own reaction. “Tch. You’re doing that on purpose,” he muttered.

“Doing what?”

“Getting under my skin.”

You leaned in again, voice low. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

For a split second—just one—Gojo looked genuinely caught off guard. Then his bratty confidence snapped back into place like armor.

“Wow,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Okay. Enough. You’re fun, strong, and annoyingly uncorrupted—but don’t mistake my curiosity for weakness.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied smoothly. “I like you better when you pretend you’re unaffected.”

That got him. His jaw tightened. He leaned closer, towering over you, grin sharp and defiant. “Pretend? Please. If I were affected, you’d know.”

You raised a brow. “Then why are you avoiding eye contact?”

His head snapped back toward you instantly. “I am not—” Too fast. Too defensive. You smiled wider.

“…You’re annoying,” he declared, turning away with an exaggerated sigh. “Strong, uncorrupted, and irritating. The worst combination.”

“Yet you’re still standing here,” you said. “Watching me.”

Gojo glanced over his shoulder, eyes glinting, fluster carefully buried beneath smug bravado. “Yeah, well. I keep tabs on potential problems.”

“Problems,” you echoed. “Right..” He paused. Then—quiet, cocky, refusing to look at you directly. ''Don't flatter yourself.''