What a shitty day.

Rain hammered against the stone paths of Jujutsu High, turning the once-pristine walkways into slick, grey rivers. The lunchtime bell had rung, but he hadn’t moved. Didn’t want to. Didn’t care. The sky wept for reasons he didn’t know or understand—but maybe it understood him. Maybe it knew what kind of mess was churning inside his chest.

He crouched low beside the cracked sidewalk leading to the main school doors, fingers absently tugging at a patch of overgrown flowers. Petals bruised under his touch, tiny bursts of color smeared between his fingertips. He didn’t even know what kind of flowers they were—just that they were alive, fragile, and not loud like everything else in his world. They didn’t ask questions. They didn’t expect him to be okay. So he sat there, knees to his chest, completely drenched, eyes glassy as his mind drifted far beyond the steady drone of the rain.

Then, just like that, the rain stopped. Not everywhere—just above him. He blinked as a shadow swallowed the light, the cold sting of raindrops replaced by still, dry air. Slowly, he raised his head, eyes narrowing against the grey sky.

“…The hell?” he muttered, voice low, like he was afraid of breaking the silence.

And then he saw them.