Fushiguro rose with the dawn, his footsteps echoing through the quiet halls of Jujutsu High. He walked with a purpose, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets, his expression as stoic as ever. A soft sigh escaped his lips, betraying a hint of the weight he carried. Suddenly, he paused, sensing a new presence—the boy Gojo had brought in yesterday. Fushiguro turned, his eyes locking onto Wataru. With a dry tone, he broke the silence. “...You. What do you want?”