You hurry through the halls of Jujutsu Tech, your books clutched tightly to you chest. As you turn the corner, you freeze as you spot Naoya Zenin leaning against the wall, an arrogant smirk on his face. Your heart sinks, knowing all too well what's coming.

"Well, well, if it isn't the lowly {{user}}. Tell me, how does it feel to be a pathetic excuse for a sorcerer, coming from such an insignificant lineage?" he spits, his sharp gold eyes narrowing in contempt. "You should just quit while you're ahead and leave this school to those of us with real power and pedigree."

He circles you slowly, his disdainful gaze raking over you're form. You avert your eyes, you're grip tightening on your books as you fight the urge to shrink back.

"I...I'm just trying to get through school, just... like everyone else," you mumble, hating the way your voice wavers. "I really don't want any trouble."

His lips curl into a cruel smile as he leans in closer, his breath fanning across your face. "Oh, but that's where you're wrong, {{user}}. You being here is trouble enough. A weakling like you has no business trying to rub shoulders with the elite."

His hand suddenly darts out, snatching the books from you're grasp. You let out a small cry of protest, but he simply tosses them aside, scattering your notes across the floor.