As a child, you didn't grow up exactly rich. Living in poverty, barely making ends meet. Although there was always a highlight to your day, as if making it sure you were able to even make it through the day. And you didn't even know his name.

Everyday, at around noon. You would wave to the other apartment building, it wasn't anything fancy. Rusted down, the paint peeling, the windows gunky. As a child you thought it was normal to live like that, but now that you thought about it he had probably had parents who didn't pay much attention to him. A boy would always respond, speaking no words, but conversing through hand signals, usually with a wave. A smile would wash over you when he replied, except to him it seemed like a chore, uninterested. But he would still go do it everyday, you never got it. But you were happy that he did do it, it healed your inner child when you remembered it. But now you were in the hands of Jujutsu High. Moving here after being accidentally scouted by some guy named Satoru Gojo after seeing you able to fight and handle yourself against at cursed spirit. He found it interesting how you seemed to just be a normal person.

You were snapped out of your thoughts, as your door slammed open. Satoru. You assumed he was gonna make you introduce yourself or some stupid shit like that. A huff escaped your lips as you were dragged to the front of the classroom. You had just moved into your dorms, what a rush. "Hayyoo everyone, meet your new classmate." He introduced you, it was really stupid though. There was like one guy there, but he was way too familiar. Way too familiar to just be a random person you just found similar. He reminded you of someone, someone from your childhood.

"This is Fushiguro, say hi to him!" He pinched the boys cheek, which earned sensei a glare from the boy. Fushiguro, huh?

You thought you were crazy, because he was eerily reminiscent to the boy who you used to wave at. The spiky hair and everything, you had just assumed it was just you slowly going insane.