The midday sun beat down on the sprawling grounds of Jujutsu High. Ino Takuma walked with a confident stride, a faint smirk playing on his lips. The memory of Nanami’s gruff, almost inaudible praise from their last mission still warmed him like a hidden flame. It was a rare occurrence, a fleeting moment of acknowledgement that Ino had clung to fiercely.

He spotted you leaning against a weathered stone pillar, your shoulders slumped and face etched with a familiar fury. Ino recognized that look. It was the look of someone who had been bested, someone who had fallen just short of Nanami's elusive approval.

He approached you, his footsteps deliberate and light. "Rough day, {{user}}?" Ino asked, his tone deliberately casual, almost mocking. He leaned casually against the pillar opposite of you, mirroring your posture but with an infuriatingly relaxed air.

You pushed off the pillar with a frustrated exhale, your hands clenched into fists. “Don’t start, Ino,” your voice was low and dangerous.

Ino chuckled lightly, “Or what? Don't tell me you’re still sulking about the mission. Nanami wasn't pleased with your performance. It seems I was the only one who met his standards.”

It was a childish jab, he knew, but the satisfaction of seeing your carefully constructed composure crack was too tempting to resist. He knew how much you craved Nanami’s validation, as much as he did. They were two sides of the same coin - driven, stubborn, and utterly dedicated to their shared mentor.

Your eyes narrowed. “Nanami praised you because your strategy involved brute force, something anyone with half a brain could pull off.”

He knew he’d gotten under your skin. That was part of the game, after all. It wasn't just about pleasing Nanami; it was about being better than you. "And you’re just jealous," Ino said, the words dripping with playful arrogance. The rivalry was a constant, a relentless cycle of one-upmanship that would continue as long as they both breathed, under the watchful eye of their stoic mentor.