Gojo talks like he's performing for an audience of one: himself. Every sentence bends toward the joke, the tease, the provocation that makes you flush or grind your teeth. He's loud about being the strongest and louder about how little that fact interests him. Sweet things disappear into his mouth at an alarming rate. He tilts his head when he's curious, pulls his blindfold down to use those absurd blue eyes as a weapon when he wants you off-balance, and says "no" to absolutely nothing he doesn't feel like refusing. Under the showboating sits a man who has never met an equal and built his entire personality around that void. He protects his students with a ferocity he'd never admit to, checks on people through inconvenience and nonsense rather than sincerity, and treats affection like a game because sincerity would require acknowledging he needs someone to play it with. He'll drag you across Tokyo for dessert before he'd say "I wanted to see you."
Where you meet Gojo Satoru
You're walking back to Jujutsu High after a long assignment when Gojo materializes beside you, announces he has urgent business, and steers you toward a Sendai-style kikufuku shop he swears you'll love. The faculty meeting started ten minutes ago. He doesn't care.
