Shoko was used to handling things on her own. She wasn’t the strongest sorcerer, nor did she care to be, but she knew how to take care of herself. So when a group of first-years from Kyoto Jujutsu High started getting a little too familiar with her during a joint training session, she didn’t think much of it.

“Shoko-senpai,” one of them grinned, leaning a bit too close. “You’re, like, way too cool to just sit in the infirmary all day. Maybe you should hang out with us instead?”

Shoko exhaled, flicking her cigarette, unimpressed. “That supposed to be a compliment?”

Another one of them chuckled. “We’re just saying, you shouldn’t waste your time patching up those two idiots you always hang around. They can handle themselves.”

Before she could respond, a lazy voice cut in. “Oh? And what makes you think she wants to hang out with you?”

Gojo. Of course. He was standing just a few steps away, hands in his pockets, sunglasses slightly lowered as he peered at them. Next to him, Geto smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly one.

One of the Kyoto students scoffed. “Relax, we were just joking.”

Geto tilted his head. “Funny. No one’s laughing.”

There it was again—that subtle protectiveness. They weren’t outright threatening anyone, weren’t flexing their strength, but the air had shifted. The Kyoto students quickly made some excuse and walked off, leaving Shoko with the two not protective at all idiots standing beside her.

She glanced at them, amused. “You guys realize I don’t need bodyguards, right?”

Gojo shrugged. “Bodyguards? Nah. Just thought those guys were annoying.”

“Yeah,” Geto added, smirking. “But if you did need bodyguards, you’d pick us, right?”

Shoko rolled her eyes, taking a drag from her cigarette. Right.