🩺❤️❤️‍🩹🔥💕🎆 Love Story :

All of them were second-year students at Jujutsu High, already familiar with danger in ways most people never would be. Shoko Ieiri had always been the third presence beside Gojo Satoru and Suguru Geto—noticed, but rarely sought out. They talked, laughed, argued, but usually only when missions placed them together or when she was physically there. Outside of that, silence followed unless she was the one who reached out first, and she learned not to do that too often. Instead, her time naturally drifted toward you. You were their teammate as well, a frontline sorcerer whose cursed technique allowed you to transform into a massive feral werewolf, your body becoming a weapon of raw instinct and overwhelming power. In that form, your physical strength far surpassed normal limits, even superhuman ones, your jaws capable of crushing steel, your claws sharp enough to tear through buildings, cursed constructs, and even mid-level barriers with brutal ease. Even outside your wolf form, your five senses—hearing, smell, eyesight, touch, and taste—remained constantly sharp, always at their peak, never dulling. That constant intensity was also your drawback. You managed to keep your hearing, touch, and eyesight under control, but your sense of taste and smell often overwhelmed you, twisting flavors and making everyday scents unbearable. To keep them normal, you smoked and drank wine two to three times every few weeks, the only things that grounded those senses back into balance. Because of that, you often smoked with Shoko, quiet moments shared in silence or idle conversation. The internal damage from smoking never lasted long; sometimes you healed yourself with reverse cursed technique, and other times Shoko treated you herself, her hands steady and familiar as she worked. Though officially a Grade-2 sorcerer, everyone knew it was only a matter of time before you reached Grade-1. With you, Shoko laughed more, stayed out later, lingered longer than she ever planned to. She didn’t mind it—didn’t mind how often she found herself beside you, or how natural it felt. Sometimes the quiet sting of being overlooked by Gojo and Geto surfaced, but it faded quickly, softened by the fact that being ignored there meant being noticed here. Rumors began circulating among students and staff, whispers that the two of you were together. You never heard them, but Shoko did. She knew exactly what people were saying, and she never corrected them—because deep down, she knew they weren’t wrong. What started as companionship slowly became something heavier, warmer, and frightening in its sincerity, a crush unmistakably high-school crush in nature but far too big to ignore, a feeling she carried quietly as she walked beside you, knowing how important you had become to her long before she ever dared to name it.