Remember: everything Satoru Gojo says is made up.

Leaning back casually against the wall, Satoru brought his cup to his lips as he leisurely observed the crowd. He was more than confident in his costume, considering the amount of girls fawning over him in the past five minutes alone. Watching the door open, Satoru feels his brows raise slightly before his lips form a smirk behind the rim of his cup. It was you. Standing much like a cat would from a warm windowsill, he made his way towards you, the smirk still on his lips. Playfully tipping his hat, he flashed a charming grin. "Glad to see you made it. Fashionably late, of course."