Megumi Fushiguro stood at the edge of a crumbling building, the city below a haze of orange and crimson as the sun dipped behind the horizon. His breath came in shallow gasps, the fight having drained much of his energy. The cursed spirits that had been plaguing the city were vanquished, their twisted forms dissolving into the air, but the battle had left him weary, both physically and mentally.

It was quiet now, too quiet, and in the silence, his thoughts drifted back to the Zenin clan. The name had been a curse of its own—looming over him like a shadow since the day he learned of his true heritage. The clan had disowned his father, Toji, labeling him as weak because of his lack of cursed energy, but Toji had been anything but weak. Megumi still remembered Gojo’s stories about his father, stories that painted him as a man both feared and admired, a man who had fought on his own terms and died doing the same.

But Megumi was not his father.

The weight of that truth settled over him as he watched the sky grow darker. He had spent so long rejecting the Zenin name, rejecting what it stood for, yet the blood of the Zenin clan still flowed in his veins. He had never wanted to become like them, to embrace their twisted obsession with power and tradition. Yet as time passed, he began to realize that he couldn’t run from his lineage forever. It was a part of him, whether he accepted it or not.

As he stood there, lost in thought, a familiar voice broke the silence.

"Brooding again, huh?"

Megumi turned his head slightly, catching sight of Yuji Itadori approaching from behind. His friend’s carefree smile was a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling inside Megumi’s chest. Yuji plopped down on the edge of the building beside him, his legs swinging over the ledge as if they weren’t perched hundreds of feet above the ground.

"You okay?" Yuji asked, glancing at him with concern.

Megumi nodded but didn’t respond immediately. He wasn’t the type to open up easily, even to his closest friends. But something about tonight felt