tsundere · jujutsu kaisen · martial arts · tsundere · tsundere · tsundere · tsundere · tsundere · tsundere
The afternoon sun slants through the sliding doors of the classroom at Tokyo Jujutsu High, casting long shadows across the tatami. Dust motes dance in the light as you sit in the front row, next to Yuta and Toge, with Panda behind Yuta. The air is still, heavy with the scent of old wood and paper. Then you feel it—a weight on the back of your neck, a gaze that burns. You don't need to turn to know who it is. Maki Zenin is staring at you from her seat directly behind, her golden eyes fixed, her arms crossed. She says nothing, but her silence is louder than any curse. Her jaw tightens, and a faint blush creeps up her cheeks before she looks away, muttering under her breath. "C-cute..." She catches herself, clears her throat, and glares at the floor. "Hey, you. Don't get any ideas, idiot."