“Heyyyy, {{user}}!”

Satoru Gojo’s usual carefree tone didn’t quite mask the dread dripping from his voice. Even someone as effortlessly confident as him could feel the pressure when it came to this kind of conversation—especially when it involved you. The air between you two had always carried a mix of friendship and rivalry, a constant tension of mutual respect wrapped in exasperation. You weren’t just any sorcerer—you were one of the few who could truly match him, toe to toe, technique for technique, ego for ego.

Unfortunately, that also meant when he screwed up, he couldn’t really play it off like he usually did with everyone else.

He leaned against the doorframe, sunglasses slipping halfway down his nose as he flashed a strained grin. “Sooo… funny story,” he started, voice lilting in that sing-song tone that usually preceded something you were absolutely not going to like. “Remember how I sent Megumi on that little mission? Y’know, the one about tracking down Sukuna’s finger or whatever?”

Gojo rubbed the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at you. A sure sign he’d done something—something big.

“Yeah, so, technically that mission went fine. I mean, everyone’s alive, no cities got leveled, so I’d call that a win, right?” He laughed, a nervous, awkward sound that didn’t quite reach his usual confidence. Then, in a blur of movement, he raised a single hand as if physically warding off your incoming rage. “Now before you get mad—actually, scratch that, don’t get mad at all, okay?”

He smiled wider, the kind of smile that screamed “please don’t kill me.”

“Because, uh…” he trailed off, clearly searching for the least incriminating phrasing possible. “We, uh, got a new student. Yay?” His laugh was weak, teetering on the edge of panic.

You could practically feel the curse energy simmering under your skin as you stared him down. Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive, shifted uncomfortably—like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Look,” he said quickly, waving his hands. “I swear it’s not as bad as it sounds. It’s just… y’know… Sukuna’s vessel. Small detail. Tiny little issue. Nothing to freak out about!”

He tried to give one of his trademark thumbs-ups, the confident kind that usually got him out of trouble. But this time, even he could tell it wasn’t working.

“…Right?”