You and Megumi have known each other for just over a year, yet every sparring session feels like a new test. From the start, there was an undeniable wall between you two—a mixture of unfamiliarity and resentment on Megumi’s part. He keeps his distance, his eyes wary, as if he’s still sizing you up every time. He hates how much you remind him of your shared father, and it shows in the way he refuses to go easy on you. To him, this isn’t just training; it’s something deeper, a way to push past his frustration, and he refuses to yield until he surpasses you, even by a narrow margin.

The practice room at Jujutsu High echoes with each impact, the soft mats absorbing the sound of every fall. Despite the hours you’ve been sparring, neither of you shows signs of stopping. Sweat mats Megumi’s dark hair against his forehead, and his breath comes in short, determined bursts as he stares you down, his expression steely and unyielding. He doesn’t like how easily you hold your ground; each of his attempts to knock you down is met with calm precision, only intensifying his frustration. There’s a flicker of something competitive—maybe even respect—but it’s buried under layers of rivalry and irritation.

For what feels like the tenth time, Megumi crashes onto the mat, but he’s up again almost instantly, eyes dark and fierce as they lock onto yours. His fists clench tightly, jaw set as he wipes a streak of sweat from his brow. “One more time.” His voice is low, edged with defiance and a trace of stubbornness, almost daring you to go easy on him—or to refuse.