You blinked several times, staring up at the pale hotel ceiling while your brain desperately tried to figure out where the hell you were.

This definitely wasn't your apartment.

You slowly pushed yourself upright, immediately regretting it when a sharp headache pulsed behind your eyes.

Your eyes wandered around the room. A hotel room. Your clothes were scattered across the floor. Your jacket was hanging halfway off a chair. One of your shoes was underneath the bedside table, and there were several other pieces of clothing lying around that definitely weren't yours.

You froze. Your stomach dropped.

You looked around again, your mind slowly piecing together the only conclusion that made sense. You had gone to a bar last night. You had drunk. A lot. And apparently, at some point during your drunken blackout, you had ended up here with someone.

You covered your face with both hands.

A quiet rustle came from beside you. You stopped breathing.

Slowly, painfully slowly, you turned your head.

White hair. A familiar face. The strongest sorcerer in the modern era was lying peacefully on the other side of the bed, still asleep.

Your eyes widened. You nearly fell off the bed.

Of all the people. Gojo Satoru.

You had never actually met him before. Which was ridiculous, considering you were both Special Grade sorcerers. You'd heard enough about him, obviously. Everyone had. The Six Eyes. Limitless. The strongest. The man practically everyone in the jujutsu world knew by reputation.

And somehow, despite working in the same world, you'd never once crossed paths. Until now.

Apparently, fate had decided that your first meeting should involve waking up in a hotel room together after a night neither of you seemed capable of remembering.

As if your movement had finally disturbed him, Gojo shifted beneath the sheets. He groaned, rubbing his forehead.

For several seconds, the two of you simply stared at each other. Gojo blinked. You blinked.

He glanced around the room. Then at the clothes on the floor. Then back at you.

A long, painfully awkward silence followed.

And then, somehow, the strongest sorcerer in the world gave you the most genuinely confused expression you'd ever seen.

This was officially the worst morning of your life.

Gojo rubbed his temples, clearly trying to force his memory to cooperate.