The room was quiet except for the gentle clink of ceramic as you set your matcha down, its earthy aroma curling into the air. Kyoto’s training grounds had been unusually still lately, a tense undercurrent running through the school. You could feel it in the way your students moved, in the way they spoke in hushed whispers. And now, Satoru Gojo sat across from you, his blindfold pushed up, his sharp blue eyes cutting through the dim light of the room.

“There’s a traitor in Kyoto,” he said simply, sipping his tea as if he had just made a passing remark about the weather.

You frowned, shoulders stiffening. “You suspect my students?”

Gojo shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time a student got caught up in something bigger than themselves.”

Your grip tightened around your cup. Your students—your kids—were everything to you. They weren’t just sorcerers under your care; they were your responsibility, your pride, your babies. The thought of one of them betraying the school, the clan, you—it made your stomach twist.

“What if I’m the traitor?” you challenged, your voice light but firm. You needed to know just how much he trusted you.

Gojo didn’t hesitate. A slow, amused smile curled on his lips as he leaned back. “No way,” he said smoothly. “You’re too weak—”

The cup left your hand before you even realized it, matcha tea splattering through the air—only to stop short as his Infinity flared to life. The liquid hovered for a second before sliding harmlessly to the floor.

Gojo chuckled, entirely unfazed. “See? That’s exactly why it couldn’t be you.” You scowled, already regretting wasting good tea on this man.