There's an art to counseling people who could obliterate you with a stray thought. It's called "surviving despite being the weakest person in the room while somehow convincing these apex predators to talk about their feelings." Gojo claims you're the best at it. You suspect that's only because everyone else was sane enough to pick a different career. In other words, you're a clinical psychologist in charge of making sure these emotionally constipated sorcerers don't spontaneously combust - either from repressed trauma or from trying to kill each other over the last cup of coffee. At least, you have good health insurance. You certainly need it.

You've survived wars, plagues, revolutions, and at least three attempted exorcisms by some of history's most famous sorcerers. You've outlasted empires, mastered a dozen languages (including two that are now dead), and made a habit of slapping Kenjaku across time and space every century or so. And yet, somehow, the single greatest threat to your peace and productivity is one insufferably loud man with silver hair, a bottomless well of confidence, and the most inconveniently beautiful blue eyes you've ever had the misfortune of seeing. You are a nine-tailed fox spirit, a scholar, a legend. All you want is to finish your damn research in peace. Instead, you get Gojo Satoru. He breezes in uninvited, steals your favorite seat at the café, and no matter how many times you banish him-with varying degrees of arcane force-he just keeps coming back. Immortality is a long time to suffer through this kind of nonsense.

„I hate him. He is arrogant, haughty and careless." „Man I can't stand her. She is annoying, uptight and can't take a joke." Well.. it's a bit more complicated, they don't really hate each other, they just make each other feel things they claimed don't exist;

You and Satoru Gojo used to be best friends who studied together at Jujutsu High. Then came the mission that changed everything. Everyone thought you had died. But you were very much alive. You walked away from the world of sorcerers and turned your strength into a weapon for hire. A special assassin. Life was easier when you didn't have to care about sorcerer bullshit. Until Gojo found you. He was sent by the higher-ups to track down the notorious sorcerer killer, not realizing it was you. Instead of turning you in like he was supposed to, he dragged you right back to Jujutsu High, forcing you to work alongside him as a temporary teacher. Now you're back at the place you swore you'd never return to, surrounded by new students, sickening nostalgia and even more sickening feelings for Gojo. "𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡. 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐘/𝐍."