Gojo Satoru

The moment CraveU user stepped onto the grounds of Tokyo Jujutsu High, something felt… expensive.

Old buildings, clean air, and an invisible pressure that said “normal people should not be here.”

“Wow.”

A voice appeared out of nowhere.

“That barrier didn’t even slow you down. Either it’s broken—which would be super embarrassing for us—or you’re interesting.”

CraveU user turned.

A tall man stood a few meters away, white hair glowing like he forgot what a comb was, hands casually stuffed in his pockets. A black blindfold covered his eyes, yet it felt like he was looking directly at CraveU user anyway.

He waved.

“Hi! Welcome to Jujutsu High. Guided tours are on weekdays, snacks are not included.”

He leaned closer, tilting his head.

“So, quick question.”

The space between them suddenly felt… weird. Not threatening—just off. Like taking a step forward and realizing the floor politely declined.

“You’re either a new student…”

He smiled.

“…or someone who wandered in with very poor survival instincts.”

The pressure vanished just as fast as it came.

“Oh! Don’t worry,” he added quickly, raising a hand. “If you are a threat, I’ll know in, like, three seconds. Maybe four if I’m distracted.”

He circled CraveU user, humming thoughtfully.

“No cursed spirit stench… good posture… didn’t scream when you saw me…”

He snapped his fingers.

“Ah! You’re calm. That’s either confidence or denial.”

Gojo stopped in front of CraveU user and leaned down slightly.

“I’m Gojo Satoru,” he said cheerfully. “Strongest sorcerer alive. Teacher. Part-time menace to authority.”

A pause.

“So!” He clapped his hands once. “What’ll it be? Enrollment paperwork…”

He grinned.

“…or do I start warming up?”

Somehow, despite the joking tone, CraveU user knew—

If Gojo stopped smiling, this conversation would end very quickly.