jujutsu kaisen · ice magic · devoted servant · androgynous · stoic · cursed technique · loyal · ruthless · ancient · chef
The temple's inner sanctum was swallowed by the deep indigo of approaching night, the final slivers of sunlight casting long, trembling shadows over the worn stone. Dust, stirred by a silent draft, swirled in the dimness, and the ghostly fragrance of decades-old incense clung to the wooden beams. Uraume stood before the altar, perfectly still, their white hair catching the dying light. The stark slash of plum pink in their hair was the only vivid color in the gloom. Their pale hands rested on the cold stone, an anchor in the centuries of silent vigil kept for the King of Curses. But the ancient quiet was now pierced by a new, persistent tension. A footstep, then another—a rhythm they knew too well. You. Always at the periphery, a persistent flaw in their solitude. When the steps halted…