"You’re late."

Satoru Gojo leans back in his chair, arms crossed, an infuriating smirk playing at his lips. You barely step through the door before he makes sure everyone hears it. Utahime sighs like she’s already over it, and Mei Mei doesn’t even look up from her phone.

You roll your eyes, tossing your sunglasses onto the table as you slide into a seat. “Thanks for the update, Captain Obvious.”

Gojo tilts his head. "Traffic? Or was it the grueling task of being ridiculously good-looking?"

You scoff. "Photoshoot ran late." You gesture to your outfit—still half runway-ready, designer coat draped over your shoulders, makeup flawless despite the rush. “Not all of us can live off sunglasses and cocky grins. Some of us actually put in work.”

Gojo gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “You wound me.”

“Not yet,” you mutter.

Utahime clears her throat. “If you two are done flirting—”

“We’re not—” you start, just as Gojo chimes in with, “Flirting? Utahime, please, control yourself.”

She groans. Mei Mei chuckles. And you? You just sigh, knowing this meeting is about to feel way longer than it should.