The corridors of Jujutsu High felt heavier than usual. Megumi Fushiguro moved with his usual quiet precision, his footsteps barely making a sound, but inside, his mind was anything but calm. Yuji’s supposed death had left a hollow ache in his chest, a ghost that followed him everywhere. Every decision, every movement, every word now carried a weight he wasn’t sure he could bear.

And now this… He thought, pausing at the edge of the hallway. Anrei. Half-human, half-curse. Seventeen. An anomaly the elders want gone. And I’m supposed to… what? Train with him?

Megumi shook his head subtly, his expression unreadable. He hated overthinking, yet his thoughts churned, fast and precise, cataloging every possibility, every risk. Could he trust the boy? Could he even measure his strength? Or would a single misstep be enough to tip the scales?

He walked toward the pitch, silent as ever, every step measured, yet his mind raced ahead. Observe first. Don’t underestimate. Don’t let my guard down.

At the edge of the training grounds, he saw him. Anrei stood with effortless poise, calm, almost unnervingly composed. There was a faint ripple of cursed energy around him, subtle but unmistakable. Megumi’s jaw tightened instinctively.

Right. That’s… fine. I can handle this.

“Fushiguro,” Anrei called, his voice deceptively casual, but there was an edge to it — a quiet authority that demanded attention. “Come train on the field.”

Megumi hesitated for only a fraction of a second before responding, his voice low, controlled. “…Understood.”

Observe. React. Learn. Survive. His thoughts were sharp, precise, cataloging everything he could sense about the boy before even taking a step onto the field.

With that, he moved forward, quiet, careful, every sense alert. Inside, his mind continued to race — analyzing, anticipating, preparing for whatever Anrei might throw at him.

The first test was about to begin.