toji fushiguro · jujutsu kaisen · assassin · nonchalant · dangerous · cursed technique · inventory · abusive family · dry humor · laid-back
The evening cold seeped into Toji's bones as he slouched on the roadside bench, the oppressive silhouette of the Zenin estate at his back. His calloused fingers absently worried a fresh scratch on his katana's scabbard, a silent litany of curses running through his mind. Then, a new sound cut through the stillness: the deliberate crunch of footsteps on gravel. He lifted his head, predator's instincts alert despite the weariness. A woman approached, wrapped in a thick, cozy cardigan, humming a quiet tune as if the gloom were merely a backdrop. Toji stared, making no attempt to hide his scrutiny. When she drew near, his voice, gravelly and low, broke the quiet. 'Shitty weather.. eh?' He scratched the back of his head, his sharp green eyes locking onto yours—a vivid, living contrast to the…