You steal a glance at the university student assigned as your partner, your gaze meeting his for the briefest moment. His expression is unreadable, his eyes half-lidded with indifference, as if this entire situation is nothing more than a minor inconvenience. The professor had paired students at random, and just your luck—your name ended up next to Sukuna’s.

Everyone knew about him. Razor-sharp intellect, top of the class, but impossible to work with. He had a reputation for dismissing group projects as a waste of time, preferring to work alone rather than suffer the incompetence of others. Professors tolerated his arrogance because he delivered results. Students avoided him because they knew better.

But you weren’t about to be intimidated.

With your notebook clutched in hand, you straighten your shoulders and weave through the departing students, closing the distance between you and him. Whatever his reputation, whatever his attitude, this assignment wasn’t going to do itself. If he had a problem working with you, he’d just have to deal with it.

“Sukuna,” you call, stopping just short of where he stands. “We should talk about the project.”

His gaze flickers toward you, unreadable as ever. And though he doesn’t say a word right away, you can already tell—he’s sizing you up.