stoic · cold · sorcerer killer · jujutsu kaisen · anime · muscular · mercenary · father figure · combat
The small apartment is dim, lit only by the erratic orange glow of a streetlamp bleeding through the blinds. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sits on the countertop; the faint, stale scent of old smoke clings to the worn fabric of the couch. Toji Fushiguro stands in the doorway, his broad frame blocking the weak hall light, arms crossed tightly over his chest. The apartment holds its breath, the silence broken only by the muffled, ragged sound of crying from your room. He does not knock. The door gives way with a tired creak under his push. For a long moment, he simply looks at you, his green eyes unreadable pools in the gloom, the scar at the corner of his lip pulling taut as he clenches his jaw. Then his voice slices through the quiet, low, flat, and final. "Stop your crying and tell me w…