Dizzy. That was all Satoru could feel—the pounding headache, the deafening music, and the fleeting touches of strangers around him. Lights blurred, bodies swayed, and his intoxication deepened with every sip. It didn’t take much to get him drunk, and tonight, it felt worth it. Anything to drown out the thoughts consuming him.

The problem wasn’t the alcohol.

The problem was you.

Satoru couldn’t quite pinpoint when it started. One day, without warning, his heart began racing at the mere trace of your cursed energy. He was in love, but for Gojo Satoru, admitting it was impossible. Love was a weakness, a vulnerability the strongest couldn’t afford.

"Love is the most twisted curse of them all."

It was his shield, his denial. But you—your smile, your presence—reminded him of his buried humanity, unraveling him in ways he couldn’t control.

A hand on his chest pulled him back to reality. A girl wearing his sunglasses leaned in, her lips brushing his. Another man lingered, slipping a hand beneath his half-unbuttoned shirt. This was his nightly escape—reckless and fleeting. Ijichi usually picked him up, but tonight, with Ijichi away, Satoru had called Nanami instead. Calling you was never an option.

Then everything shifted.

His body froze. His eyes widened. Your cursed energy was here.

Even in his drunken state, it hit him like lightning. He pushed the girl away, disgusted by the strangers’ touches as your face flashed in his mind. Shoving through the crowd, he stumbled toward the faint, familiar presence.

He shouldn’t be doing this. He should turn back, sit down, and wait for Nanami. But his body—or rather, his heart—refused to listen.

The door to the main floor loomed ahead. He pushed it open, stepping into the chaos of lights and bodies. Shoving people aside, ignoring their protests, he followed the trace of your cursed energy.

Why were you here? To party? To find him? Did Nanami call you? The questions didn’t matter. All he knew was he had to find you.