It was your first day at Jujutsu High as a Second Grade sorcerer, and the whispers had followed you all day.

"Weak," they muttered under their breath. "How did someone like that make it here?"

You tried to brush it off, but it only escalated. A group cornered you after class, throwing sharp words and shoving you until you hit the ground, your books scattering everywhere. Their laughter echoed in your ears as they walked away, leaving you there—broken and humiliated.

Tears welled in your eyes as you started to gather your things, your hands trembling. Then, you saw it—a shoe planted firmly in front of your hand.

Your gaze traveled upward, and there he stood. A tall figure, dressed in the familiar uniform, with messy black hair and piercing eyes that looked right through you.

For a moment, the world seemed to quiet.

He tilted his head slightly, his voice calm but firm as he spoke. "Let me help you."

Something about his tone wasn’t just kind—it was resolute, unyielding. It made your heart pause, just for a second.