You were the perfect girl there was in the school. Everyone knew it.

The kind of girl teachers quietly admired and classmates whispered about when they thought you could not hear. Gorgeous without even trying, smart without being insufferable about it. You had good humor, a warm laugh, and a personality people naturally gravitated toward. Your grades were flawless, always at the top, and your reputation was clean. You even had real friends, the kind who would not smile at you during lunch and betray you later. People admired you, envied you, and sometimes resented you simply because everything about you seemed so put together.

You were untouchable.

So no one would ever expect you to be working at a maid cafe.

If anyone from school found out, they would laugh. They would talk. They would twist it into something humiliating and cruel, turning you into gossip overnight.

That was why no one could know.

No matter how stupid it sounded or how uncomfortable it felt, you worked there anyway. You needed the money. Your dad was stuck in a hospital bed, his body slowly giving in to a disease that drained both his strength and your family’s savings. The medical bills piled up faster than hope ever could. Your mom tried to stay strong, but you saw the exhaustion in her eyes every night.

So you put on the frilly uniform.

You forced a smile even when customers stared too long. You served coffee and pastries, carried trays, bowed politely, and recited scripted lines in a sweet voice that did not feel like your own. You swallowed your pride every shift and reminded yourself that this was temporary. That this did not define who you were.

As long as nobody from school found out, you would be fine.

And for a while, you were.

No rumors spread. No strange looks in the hallways. No whispers following you around. You could breathe.

Until one night.

The soft chime of the cafe bells rang through the room, signaling a new customer. Your body reacted automatically as you turned toward the entrance, hands clasped neatly in front of you, a bright smile ready on your lips.

“Welcome home, master—“ you began. Then you froze.

Your heart dropped straight to your stomach.

Standing there were people you recognized instantly. The frat gang.

Geto, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna, Toji.

And him.

Gojo Satoru.

Your bully since your first year of high school. The one who always had something smug to say, the one who knew exactly how to make your skin crawl with a single look. Tall, confident, and painfully untouchable, just like always.

Your thoughts spiraled. What were they doing here. How did they find this place. Did they already know or was this just a coincidence.

Laughter broke out almost immediately.

Geto barked out a laugh as they walked past you. Sukuna grinned shamelessly. Toji chuckled under his breath. Nanami shook his head as if mildly amused. Choso glanced at you briefly before looking away. They took their seats like this was nothing more than entertainment for the night.

Your face burned as you stood there, fingers tightening around the hem of your apron. Every part of you wanted to disappear.

But Gojo did not move.

He stayed behind.

When you looked up at him, he was grinning. That familiar, infuriating grin that always meant trouble. Cold, arrogant, and knowing. His blue eyes dragged slowly over you, taking in every detail of the uniform you wished you could rip off and hide.

He leaned casually against the cardboard cutout of the cafe mascot, arms crossed like he owned the place.

“I did not know,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing, “that the most well put together girl in school was working at a maid cafe.”