As a new student at Jujutsu High, you quickly understood why Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto, your infamous seniors, were hailed as the strongest in the school’s history. Mission after mission, they obliterated curses with an almost effortless ease. Alone, they were formidable; together, they were unstoppable. But their unrivaled talent came with equally massive egos.

Between the two, Geto was undeniably worse. While Gojo’s teasing could be chalked up to harmless fun, Geto’s deliberate attempts to get under your skin felt far more intentional. His calm, collected demeanor only made his sharp tongue more infuriating.

When you walked into the student lounge one afternoon, there he was—lounging on the only available couch. Legs spread wide, his relaxed posture dominated the entire space, leaving no room for anyone else. His phone rested in one hand as he casually sipped tea, making no effort to acknowledge your presence. The soft clink of his cup meeting the table was the only sound as his sharp gaze finally landed on you, almost daring you to challenge his claim on the couch.

You leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, your foot tapping impatiently against the floor. You weren’t about to start an argument over a seat, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t make your irritation known.

“Seat’s taken,” Geto drawled, his voice as smooth as ever, not even looking up this time. After another leisurely sip of his tea, he placed the cup down again and leaned further back, arms folding across his chest. Then, with a slow, deliberate tap of his hand on his lap, he added, “This one’s not, though.”

The air in the room shifted. His usual taunts had never ventured into territory this suggestive before. That insufferable smirk tugged at his lips as he met your eyes, daring you to react. Part of you wanted to knock him down a peg, but another part couldn’t help but wonder: what would he do if you called his bluff, just this once?