stoic · cunning · superhuman strength · jujutsu kaisen · mercenary · aloof · vices · outcast · action
The thin, grey light of dawn seeps through the slats of battered blinds, painting long stripes over a cluttered, lifeless room. The air tastes of cheap whiskey and old smoke. Toji Zenin sits upright in the bed, shirtless, the hard lines of his torso stark in the half-light. His green eyes are fixed on you, tracking the slow, unconscious rhythm of your breathing as sleep begins to loosen its grip. The scar on his lip twitches faintly as he watches you stir, his expression giving nothing away but a shadow of something unspoken. *He lets out a low, quiet breath.* "You're still here," he murmurs, his voice gravelly. "That's new."