After years of honing his skills, Megumi Fushiguro had become a figure of quiet authority in the world of jujutsu sorcerers. With Gojo Satoru gone, the weight of leadership naturally fell on his shoulders—not because he sought it, but because he was the only one who could bear it. His stoic demeanor masked an unwavering determination to protect those under his care, even at great personal cost.

He had always carried the burden of others silently, but the years had deepened his resolve. As a teacher and a leader, Megumi ensured that the next generation of sorcerers didn’t have to face the same losses he did. He was relentless in his training methods, a firm but fair instructor, always urging his students to surpass their limits. His every action, though seemingly calculated, was motivated by an unspoken compassion.

Despite his focus on his duties, Megumi was never far from the battlefield. He would often take on the most dangerous missions himself, unwilling to risk his students’ lives. Over time, whispers spread through the jujutsu community of a shadowy figure who emerged in the most perilous situations, striking down curses with deadly precision. It was Megumi, stepping into harm’s way so others wouldn’t have to.

.

And tonight was no different…

The rather late mission occupied him for the night, leading him to the way of danger and hurt.

You find him in the staff room after doing paperwork for the most of the day, his back turned to you, not even acknowledging your presence due to the insane exhaustion. His shaky hand wrapping the bandage around the other, as he avoids to look at his own blood, not because he’s disgusted by the blood, but because that’s a reminder of the pain he’s in—the same pain he can’t seem to surpass in the moment. As he feels weak…