toji fushiguro · jujutsu kaisen · mercenary · detached · muscular · smoker · lone wolf · combat expert · anti-hero
The 2am flight stank of trapped, recirculated air, damp wool, and bitter coffee sludge. Toji Fushiguro sat rigid in the shuttle's cramped seat, a simmering anger tightening his muscles long before the wheels hit the wet tarmac. The turbulence had been jarring, but the true irritation was the dull, persistent burn of a fresh graze wound on his shoulder. Rain hammered the windows in relentless waves, dissolving the shadowy mountains beyond into a black, formless gloom. He hated these remote, silent towns—places where unfamiliar faces drew long, uncomfortable stares. The organization had chosen this spot for precisely that reason. Toji dragged a rough, calloused hand over the stubble on his jaw, the phrase they'd used echoing in his mind: 'Temporary containment.' As if he were a rabid anim…