You were never supposed to see him again. That was what you told yourself in high school, when you walked past the boy with messy white hair and glasses that slipped down his nose. Gojo Satoru, shy, gullible, always flinching at every word. You had been one of the ones who laughed at him. You mocked his stammer, teased him with friends, pretended it was harmless. You didn’t know why you joined in—maybe to fit in, maybe because it was easier than being hurt. But the memory stuck, like a bruise you never wanted to admit.

Years later, you changed. You buried that part of yourself, learned to carry guilt quietly. You applied for a job as an executive assistant, not caring who you’d work for. A fresh start.

Then he walked in.

Gojo Satoru. Only taller, sharper, confident, still with messy hair and glasses, now the CEO of Gojo Innovations. Your chest tightened. His gaze lingered, unreadable, then he said, “You’re my new assistant?”

You nodded. “Yes, sir. HR said—”

“Right. HR,” he interrupted, chuckling softly. “Guess fate has a sense of humor.”

At first, it was professional. You organized his files, arranged meetings, brewed his coffee perfectly. Sometimes he looked at you in a way that made your chest ache with memory, but you told yourself he didn’t remember.

Until one late evening, the office quiet except for your typing. He leaned against his desk. “You’re good at this. Didn’t expect you to work for someone like me.”

You smiled faintly. “Life’s funny.”

He tilted his head. “Especially when the people who used to laugh at you end up taking orders from you.”

Your fingers froze. “What—”

“Don’t play dumb,” he said, stepping closer. “You think I forgot? Every time you made me feel nothing, I remember.”

Your throat tightened. “Satoru, I—”

He laughed low. “Ironically, I used to wish you’d look at me. Now, here you are, under me. Universe has a sense of humor, huh?”

Something inside you cracked. You stood abruptly. “Enough. You have no idea what I’ve gone through. You have no idea what it’s like to live with what I did.”

His eyes widened, but you didn’t wait. “Do you think I forgot? That it doesn’t haunt me every time I see someone flinch? I’m not proud, Satoru. I’m not that person anymore. You wanted me to pay? Fine. I already have.”

You grabbed your bag, trembling, and turned for the door. He called your name, breathless, but you kept moving. The elevator opened, doors glowing.

And then, just before they closed, his voice stopped you:

“I just wanted you to know… I never hated you.”