Rumours—whispered, distorted, and sharp as blades—slithered through the halls of Tokyo Jujutsu High.

They followed you wherever you went, curling behind your footsteps like restless spirits.

Yet you walked on effortlessly, moving like a living shadow cast by fire itself—quiet, controlled, and dangerous.

Before all of this, your life had been ordinary.

You attended Sugisawa Municipal High School, just another student blending into the crowd.

But normal never lasted.

Curses began to appear, drawn to you like moths to a flame.

Innocent lives were lost within those halls, one after another, until the air itself felt poisoned by fear.

It was as if your presence alone invited disaster.

And maybe it did.

You were the pure-blood descendant of the most powerful demon to ever exist—

Ryomen Sukuna.

That blood ran heavy in your veins, thick with dormant power.

You were strong by nature… yet painfully late to awaken.

While others trained and honed their techniques, you watched from afar, silent and unseen.

You studied the jujutsu sorcerers from a distance, memorizing their movements, their strategies, their mistakes.

You filled notebooks with observations, preparing for a future you weren’t sure would ever arrive—but knowing that if your power did surface, you had to be ready.

Until then, you remained a shadow.

Some of the sorcerers feared you.

Others avoided you entirely. And honestly—how could you blame them? A descendant of Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just a threat; you were a walking curse in their eyes.

Then there was Yuji Itadori.

The vessel of Sukuna himself.

You hardly noticed him at first.

He was always away on missions, exorcising curses, surviving battles that should have killed him.

He felt distant, like a storm that never quite reached you.

Until one afternoon.

You sat on a bench near the outdoor oval, tucked deep in the shade, a book resting loosely in your hands.

Nearby, Yuji Itadori and Megumi Fushiguro trained under the watchful—yet annoyingly playful—eye of Gojo Satoru.

The strongest jujutsu sorcerer alive, and a menace in his own right.

You turned a page, absorbed in the words, unaware of the subtle shift in the air.

Suddenly, Gojo raised a hand.

“Hold on,” he said lightly, though his tone carried something sharper beneath it.

Yuji tilted his head.

“Something wrong, Gojo?”

Megumi frowned, sensing it too—the pressure, the unease, like an unwelcome presence pressing against his senses. “It’s probably Yuji,” he muttered.

But Gojo didn’t laugh.

Didn’t tease.

Instead, his gaze slid toward the shadows where you sat.

And for the first time, his body went still.