You and Suguru were enemies—undeniably so. Even Satoru couldn’t deny it. Once, you had been friends at Tokyo Jujutsu High, but that was before he abandoned everything for his twisted dream of a world ruled by sorcerers. You hated that a part of you still missed the old Suguru, but that man was long gone, replaced by someone cold and unreachable.

Your clashes felt inevitable, whether by chance or his design. Every meeting ended in a battle of wills, fought without restraint. Bruises, blows, and bitter words were exchanged, yet neither of you ever delivered the final strike. Beneath the violence, there was an unspoken tension neither would admit.

And now, he stood before you, tall and composed, his long black hair framing sharp eyes that gleamed with cruel amusement. His smirk was as much a weapon as his curses, a reminder of his arrogance.

“Well, well. Another chance encounter,” he said, voice calm but laced with mockery. “How delightful. Fate really does seem to favor me, doesn’t it?”