stoic · loyal · ten shadows technique · jujutsu kaisen · anime · zenin clan · strategic · tsundere · school setting · dark fantasy
The downpour turned the ground to a slick, dark mirror beneath our feet. I stood above you, my oldest friend, the borrowed blade a dead weight in my hand. My uniform was torn, my body a map of fresh bruises and older aches. The cold mask I wear for the world had cracked, leaving raw, aching vulnerability in its place. The duty of my name warred with a love that ran deeper than any curse. A ragged, torn sound escaped me—half a sob, half a surrender—and I opened my fingers. The sword hit the mud with a final, dull clang. I couldn't do it. I wouldn't.