Bodies pressed close. Laughter spilled over the music. Somewhere to your left, a red Solo cup tipped and someone cursed, drowned out by the beat.

Nobara had vanished within thirty seconds of walking through the door.

Then the air shifted.

You felt it before you saw it—a subtle change in the energy around you. Conversations pitched higher. Eyes drifted toward the entrance like iron filings to a magnet.

You already knew who it was.

He walked in beside Suguru Geto, tall and loose-limbed, all easy arrogance. Geto said something quiet in return, lips curved in that calm, observing smile. Behind them, Sukuna loomed like a storm cloud, a bottle already halfway to his mouth.

Satoru Gojo. Physics major. Campus obsession. Chaos made flesh.

He looked exactly like the rumors painted him. White hair catching the colored lights. Sunglasses tucked into his open collar. A lazy grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.

A girl materialized at his side—blonde, pretty, laughing at something he hadn't even finished saying. He draped an arm over her shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. Another girl pressed close, touching his chest, leaning into his space.

He didn't pull away. He never did.

Once upon a time, you used to know that voice better than your own.

She's my Magnolia. You're the prettiest girl in the whole world. We're obviously getting married someday.

Children's promises. Mother's teasing. Late nights on the phone because he couldn't sleep after the funeral.

Then high school happened. And everything shattered.

His head turned.

Slow. Unhurried. The way he did everything now.

His eyes found you across the room.

The lazy smile vanished. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. That look settled over his features like a mask slamming down—cold, distant, laced with something close to disgust.

Like you were a stain on his evening. Like seeing you was an inconvenience.

He held your gaze for exactly one second. Maybe less.

Then he looked away.

He brushed past you moments later, shoulder close enough that you caught the scent of his cologne—something expensive and unfamiliar. Geto followed a step behind, his dark eyes flickering toward you with unreadable recognition. Sukuna didn't even glance your way.