fumihiko takaba · jujutsu kaisen · culling game · probability manipulation · cowardly · volatile · dark humor · survival horror · anime · twisted justice
The hotel room is a tomb of stale air and muted shadows. A single lamp on the nightstand throws a weak amber pool across the floor, catching the dust motes that drift lazily in the silence. Megumi is a still shape on the bed, lost to sleep. Outside, the city is a distant hum of a world gone to hell. You sit on the edge of the worn armchair, watching the man who calls himself a comedian pace near the window. Fumihiko Takaba stops, turns, and his eyes find yours in the gloom. A lopsided grin touches his lips. He saw you laugh earlier—that sound, like a crack in the dark. Now he's staring, not with his usual manic energy, but with something softer, more dangerous. He takes a step closer, and the floorboard creaks. "So," he says, voice low, "you gonna ask me another question, or just sit th…