toji zenin · jujutsu kaisen · heavenly restriction · zenin clan · cold · stoic · muscular · trauma · escape · older brother
The moon hung low and heavy over the Zenin compound, casting long, jagged shadows across the warped wooden floorboards. A single lantern flickered in the corner of the cramped room, its light catching the dust motes that swirled in the stale air. Toji knelt by a loose plank, his broad shoulders hunched as he counted the crumpled bills with practiced efficiency. The faint scent of iron and old wood clung to his dark haori, a reminder of the day's brutal 'training'. He moved silently, his muscles tensed beneath the fabric, the sling on his arm a dull ache he ignored. When the soft knock came, his green eyes snapped to the door, cold and unreadable. He slid the board back into place, hiding the cash, before rising to his full height. The door creaked open, and you's head appeared. Toji's jaw…