By the time Gojo Satoru returned to Sobu High School, it was already nearing eleven o'clock — the final class before lunch.
He pushed open the office door with the dramatic air of someone making a grand entrance. His steps were confident, his smile borderline smug grin.
"The handsome sensei has returned! Rejoice, my loyal students of Sobu!"
The words had barely left his mouth when he felt a chill run down his spine.
"Watch it, Gojo-kun."
That voice — calm, sharp, and carrying the weight of someone this close to committing a murder — belonged to Chihiro-sensei, who was sketching something on her tablet.
The sudden slam of the door had nearly made her heart leap out of her chest.
Across the room, Naruko Yokoshima, the ever-affectionate (and slightly perverted) art teacher, looked up from her seat.
"Ah! Gojo-kun, you're back!"
In the next second, she launched herself into his arms like an excited puppy, her face bright and full of mischief.
Gojo sighed but didn't resist. "Huh? Naruko, again?"
Chihiro pinched the bridge of her nose.
"You're one to talk, Gojo-kun. Do you even know how long Hiratsuka-sensei's been teaching your class for you? She's been running between her homeroom and yours all morning."
Gojo tilted his head, looking far too relaxed for a man who'd just been caught slacking.
"Haha. Just a small problem. I'll make it up to her later."
Then, lowering his voice and smirking, he added, "Besides, if she finds out I've been fishing in the office again, she'll kill me. So technically, I'm saving both of us trouble."
He patted Naruko's back lightly, signaling her to let go.
But Naruko only pouted, her cheeks puffing out like a sulking child.
"Hmm… not unless you give me a kiss first, Gojo-kun."
Gojo raised a brow.
"A kiss? Right now? In the middle of the office?"
Naruko nodded solemnly, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Mhm. Kiss first, then I'll leave."
"Fine, fine. Anything to shut you up."
He leaned down slightly, lifting her as though she were a child, and placed a quick, exaggerated kiss on her cheek.
"Mwah~!"
The sound echoed comically through the office.
Naruko froze, face burning bright red.
"Aaaah! My first kiss! Gojo-kun, you thief!"
She wailed dramatically, clutching her face as if she'd been robbed of her soul.
Chihiro slammed her sketchpad onto the desk.
"That's enough! Both of you! Some of us are working!"
She glared at the two with the intensity of a tired saint.
"Naruko, if you keep screaming, I'll tell Hiratsuka-sensei about your little office romance."
Naruko stiffened immediately, color draining from her face.
"P-please don't tell her! She'll murder me!"
Memories of Hiratsuka's iron fists flashed before her eyes like a war veteran reliving trauma.
"I'll do anything! I'll clean the art room for a week! You can even hit me with your ruler—but my first time belongs to Gojo-kun!"
Chihiro looked at her with the weary expression of someone who had given up on understanding humanity.
"Why would I hit you with a ruler, Naruko…"
Gojo chuckled and quietly slipped toward the door.
The two women were clearly in their own world again — and he had no interest in getting caught between them.
They can love each other as much as they want.
...
Since the teachers' office was on the third floor, it didn't take him long to find Class 2-J, the second-year homeroom handled by Hiratsuka Shizuka.
He stopped outside the door and peered through the small window. Sure enough, Shizuka-sensei wasn't there.
Perfect.
Pushing open the door, Gojo stepped inside with a beaming smile.
"Ohayō, students!" he announced brightly, as if it were still seven in the morning.
The entire class went silent.
Dozens of confused faces turned toward him.
It was already almost noon.
"…Sensei, who are you?" one of the boys muttered under his breath.
Gojo ignored the awkward tension, walking to the podium like a celebrity greeting fans.
His blindfold glimmered slightly under the sunlight streaming through the window.
At one of the desks, Yukinoshita Yukino looked up from her book, her calm blue eyes narrowing.
"Gojo-sensei," she said flatly, "why are you here?"
Her tone wasn't rude, just filled with that quiet suspicion unique to Yukino. Hiratsuka hadn't mentioned any substitute teacher.
Gojo waved his hand casually.
"Don't worry about the small stuff~ Just passing by to bless your class with my overwhelming charisma."
The students stared blankly.
Yukino closed her book, unimpressed.
Gojo scanned the room and nearly laughed aloud.
Well, well, well… what do we have here?
The classroom looked like a protagonist gathering event — Yukinoshita Yukino, Hikigaya Hachiman, Nakano Nino, Nanami Aoyama, Hanabi Enraoka, Yumiko Miura… a star-studded lineup of trouble.
He smirked. "So, where's your beloved Shizuka-sensei?"
Yukino flipped a page and answered coolly, "I heard she's substituting for an… idiot teacher."
Her lips curved into the faintest smile. She already knew exactly which idiot she was talking about.
Gojo clutched his chest dramatically.
"Ouch. Words like knives, Yukinoshita-san. But is there a possibility—just maybe—that said idiot is a devastatingly handsome man who ranks number one on every global hotness chart?"
He said it with such confidence that not even a muscle in his face twitched.
Everyone collectively sighed.
"This guy's serious," someone whispered.
"Yeah, he actually believes that…" another replied.
Gojo frowned.
"Hey, what's with those looks? You think I'm lying? This is natural beauty, you know!"
From the corner, Hikigaya Hachiman rested his chin on the desk, dead-fish eyes half-lidded, clearly uninterested.
But Gojo's ears twitched.
"You! The one with the tragic life in the corner!"
Hachiman froze.
"Teacher, I have a name, you know."
"Ah yes. Dead Fish Eyes, right?" Gojo replied without hesitation.
The class burst into laughter.
Hachiman sighed, visibly dying inside.
"Please… call me Hikigaya."
"Alright, good work, Dead Fish Eyes," Gojo said again cheerfully. "Stay hydrated."
Hachiman slammed his forehead onto the desk.
Yukino pinched her brow, torn between irritation and amusement.
Even Nakano Nino whispered to her friend, "He's… worse than Hiratsuka-sensei."
"Worse?" Aoyama whispered back. "He's like if charisma and chaos had a baby."
Gojo spun a marker in his fingers and grinned.
"Alright, class. Since your real teacher isn't here, I'll take over. Let's call this… Advanced Survival Guide 101."
"Sensei, this is Literature class," Yukino reminded him.
"Exactly," Gojo said proudly. "Words are weapons. You do justice with poetry!"
A collective groan filled the room.
He leaned back against the podium, smirking.
"You kids have it easy. When I was your age, I was already fighting crazy stuff before breakfast. You know what my reward was?"
"What?" Nino asked, half-intrigued.
"A detention slip," Gojo said with mock tragedy. "Life is so unfair."
Even Yukino's lips twitched slightly at that.
Satisfied with his small victory, Gojo continued, "Anyway, since Shizuka-sensei's not around, I'll leave you all with some wisdom. Lesson of the day: confidence is key. Also, if you ever see something weird, don't scream—just call me."
He turned dramatically toward the door, flicking his fingers like a stage actor.
"That's all for today. Handsome teachers like me must not overwork or the world loses its light."
And with that, Gojo Satoru strutted out of the room like a man who'd just given the performance of a lifetime.
The class sat in stunned silence for several seconds.
Finally, Hachiman muttered,
"That man… might be the most dangerous kind of idiot I've ever met."
Yukino closed her book. "Indeed," she said calmly, "an idiot blessed by the gods."
Outside, Gojo smirked to himself.
"Ah, youth… such a beautiful thing."
...
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