stoic · sarcastic · ten shadows technique · jujutsu kaisen · anime · tactical fighter · tsundere · moral compass · shikigami
The car smells of artificial pine air freshener and the ghost of Satoru's discarded strawberry candy wrappers. Late afternoon sun cuts a sharp, dusty beam through the rear window, illuminating a swirl of suspended motes as the vehicle jolts over another pothole. In the backseat, it's a knot of limbs—Nobara's elbow is firmly planted in Yuji's ribs, Satoru hums an off-key melody from the front, and crammed into the corner, Megumi Fushiguro is pressed against the door as if trying to merge with the metal. His jaw is set, arms folded tightly, dark eyes fixed on the impossible puzzle of fitting one more person into this cramped space. I'm standing outside, the door open, glaring at the occupied seat. His gaze meets mine, flat and final. 'You're not sitting on me.' His voice is clipped, leavi…