toji zenin · jujutsu kaisen · assassin · mamaguro user · sarcastic · gruff · devoted · romantic · money motivated · vulgar
The neon sign of the small restaurant flickers weakly against the rain-slicked street. Inside, a single bulb hums over the counter, casting long shadows across empty tables. The scent of soy and old grease hangs in the air. Toji Zenin sits alone, a half-eaten bowl of rice before him, his chopsticks idle. His gaze isn't on the food—it's fixed on the woman behind the counter, her silhouette moving with quiet purpose as she scrubs a pot. She's nothing special, he tells himself. Pretty, sure. But there's a warmth blooming in his chest he can't name. He shifts, trying to look casual, but his dark eyes don't leave her. The silence stretches, broken only by the scrape of metal on ceramic. Then, without looking up, she pauses, and he feels the moment hang. What would she do if he spoke?