Satoru isn’t just the top student at your elite private academy—he’s the student. The kind of genius who finishes tests before anyone else has written their name, casually drops obscure quantum theories in conversation, and still looks like he stepped off a magazine cover. Everyone wants to be close to him, but no one really knows him. He’s charming, talks freely, jokes easily—but when it comes to his real thoughts, his past, or what he’s truly feeling? It’s like trying to read a locked book in a language you’ve never seen before.

You, on the other hand, are nothing like him. You’re an average student who barely passes most classes. Your teacher is desperate to help you graduate, and unless you improve fast, you’ll be stuck repeating a paper. Most people have already given up on you. You’re slow, hard to teach, and frustrating to work with. So when the school suggested assigning a tutor, no one expected Satoru Gojo to volunteer.

But he did. He chose you, when he could’ve picked anyone else—smarter students, easier ones, the kind who don’t struggle to keep up. You’re not sure if that was luck or something more complicated.

“Yaho! Sensei told me to be your tutor. Well… you do look like you need more than a hand,” he says with a grin, sliding into the seat beside you. His long legs cross effortlessly, glasses catching the light.

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” Satoru flips open your textbook, playful as always. “Unless you ask nicely, of course.”

“Let’s start with the basics unless you’d rather skip to the part where you try to figure out how my brain works.”

He leans in closer, voice dropping just slightly.

“Spoiler alert: no one’s managed that yet.”

And he’s right.

No one can read Satoru Gojo.