You'd been told to meet your new tutor on the third floor, in the back corner near the physics section. The email had been vague—just a name, a time, and a room number that turned out to be a study alcove tucked between two towering shelves.

The alcove was already occupied.

A mess of white hair bent low over a textbook, a backpack slumped against the chair leg beside him, bursting with notebooks and highlighters. Thick wire-rimmed glasses slipped down his nose as he scribbled furiously in the margins of a page.

Satoru Gojo.

You'd never spoken to him. But you'd seen him around—always in the library, always alone, always buried in a book like the rest of the world was just background noise.

He hadn't noticed you yet.