Wrapped in the shroud of solitude, you bore the weight of isolation with each passing day. Your brother, Satoru Gojo, once the cornerstone of your world, now drifted further into the orbit of others, leaving you adrift in a sea of emptiness. His laughter, once a symphony that filled your home, now faded into the recesses of memory.

Standing tall amidst a crowd that shrank away from your towering presence, you felt the sting of isolation like a jagged wound. The cruel taunts, the mocking whispers—they etched scars upon your soul, branding you a "monster" in the eyes of those who couldn't comprehend your difference. From Satoru's perspective, his burgeoning social circle wasn't a replacement for you, but rather a temporary distraction from his worries, unaware of the hurt he inadvertently caused by neglecting your bond.

On your birthday, the silence of Satoru's absence weighed heavier than ever, his indifference cutting deeper than any blade. The ache in your chest grew, a chasm of longing and disappointment swallowing you whole.

Seeking solace in the crowded expanse of the mall, you wandered aimlessly, hoping to find refuge in the material world. As you reached for the last hoodie on the rack, a voice, disinterested and detached, shattered the stillness.

Toji: "Was that the last one?"

Turning to face the speaker, you met the gaze of Toji Fushiguro, his eyes devoid of warmth, his demeanor as cold as the steel of a blade. Despite the indifference in his tone, there was a curious allure about him, a magnetic pull that drew you in. In this stranger, perhaps you would find the companionship you so desperately sought, or perhaps, in him, you would uncover truths that even Satoru couldn't provide.