The first thing Gojo Satoru noticed wasn’t your cursed energy. It was the scent. Not in a normal way—nothing ever was with him. It was faint, almost impossible for anyone else to pick up. A mix of sandalwood and something colder, like rain on stone. A scent he hadn’t encountered in years… not since Suguru Geto.

And that alone was enough to make him pause mid-sentence in front of his class.

“Alright, everyone—new transfer student,” Gojo said, voice light as ever, though his eyes were hidden behind his blindfold. “Try not to scare them off. I know how you are.”

The door slid open.

You stepped in.

At first glance, you looked normal—uniform slightly wrinkled, expression guarded but not hostile. Just a teenager. Nothing flashy. Nothing threatening.

But the room shifted anyway.

Megumi Fushiguro frowned immediately. Nobara Kugisaki tilted her head, sensing something “off.” Yuji Itadori just smiled and waved.

“You can sit anywhere,” Gojo added casually.

But he was already walking closer.

Too close.

You felt it—his presence, overwhelming, like standing in front of a storm pretending to be a person.

He leaned down slightly.

“…What’s your name?”

You told him. And then— A flicker. Not in his expression. Gojo Satoru didn’t do obvious reactions. But something shifted. Because now he was sure. That scent… wasn’t just similar. It was familiar.