Chapitre 3: Transfer From Kyoto [REWRITE]
The morning sun streamed through the cracks in Furōkawa's drapes, waking him with its relentless brightness. He groaned, rolling over and muttering, "Damn sun…" before sitting up. It was moving day, though he wouldn't have to endure much of a process—he had nothing left to pack after that initial surge of cursed energy had obliterated everything he owned.
Dragging himself out of bed, Furōkawa shuffled into the bathroom. He glanced at the mirror and frowned. His hair was getting longer than usual, far past his typical tolerance. Normally, he'd take a razor and chop it all off, but there didn't seem to be one here.
"Where is the… ah, there it is," he said, spotting the sealed toothbrush on the counter. Furōkawa tore it out of the box and began brushing, his usual morning routine. Simple, efficient, and the same thing he'd been doing since his parents had left overseas.
A soft knock at the door interrupted him, followed by a sweet voice announcing, "Breakfast is ready."
"Oh boy, I'm starving…" Furōkawa mumbled, hurrying to finish. He threw a black T-shirt over his tank top and stepped out of the bathroom.
The courtyard outside his room stretched wide, serene and carefully maintained. Furōkawa sat cross-legged on the ground as his breakfast was served: a steaming bowl of rice, eggs, and fish. "Thank you for this meal," he said, clapping his hands together before digging in.
Four minutes later—because Furōkawa ate fast—a woman with a large scar across her face entered the courtyard, carrying a stack of papers. She cleared her throat before speaking.
"Umm, Fukitsu—"
"Furōkawa," he interrupted. "You can call me by my first name, thanks."
She hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, sorry. Furōkawa, Mr. Ichiji is here to take you to the Tokyo Metropolitan Magic Technical Scho—"
"Do you guys say the whole name every ti—"
"STOP INTERRUPTING ME, DAMN IT!" she snapped, her voice echoing across the courtyard. Furōkawa winced, offering an apologetic smile. "Sorry…"
The woman—Utahime, he'd overheard—glared at him before a calm voice interrupted from behind her. "Ms. Utahime, please hand Fukitsu his ID card and residency papers. He needs to leave soon."
Utahime turned slowly, her expression shifting from anger to something more sinister. She approached Furōkawa with deliberate steps, handed him the papers, and stormed off without another word.
Furōkawa glanced awkwardly at the man who had spoken: an average height, stoic figure in a black suit. Wordlessly, the man gestured for Furōkawa to follow, and they walked to the car waiting by the gate. As Furō climbed into the backseat, he noticed Mai leaning casually against the school gate, shooting him a mock kiss. He shivered involuntarily.
She really rubs me the wrong way…
The ride to Tokyo was silent and tense. Furōkawa considered striking up a conversation but quickly decided against it. Mr. Ichiji looked less like someone interested in small talk and more like someone trying not to panic. About what, Furō couldn't tell, but the man's nervous energy was impossible to ignore.
When they arrived at the Tokyo Metropolitan Magic Technical School—Furōkawa cursed himself for saying the full name in his head—Ichiji turned in his seat. His glasses caught the light, creating an eerie, reflective glare.
"Beware of the white-haired blindfolded man," he said, his voice trembling slightly.
"Uh… sure," Furōkawa replied, stepping out of the car. He bowed politely to Ichiji before turning toward the entrance.
He stared at the sprawling campus, the start of a new chapter in his life. Except…
"Wait. Where the hell am I supposed to be going?" Furōkawa muttered aloud.
Almost immediately, a figure materialized in front of him—a tall man with striking silver hair and a blindfold covering his eyes. Furōkawa stumbled back, landing hard on the ground.
"Yo!" the man greeted cheerfully, extending a hand.
Furōkawa blinked, his heart racing. "What the—who are you?"
The man smirked, pulling him to his feet. "Gojo Satoru. You must be the new student… Fukitsu, right?"
"Furōkawa," he corrected, brushing himself off.
"Right, right. My bad. Anyway, welcome to Jujutsu Tech, where you'll learn to exorcise curses and protect those who can't protect themselves."
"Yeah, I got the gist of it when my cursed energy awakened," Furōkawa said flatly.
Gojo tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable behind the blindfold. "Well, I can see how that worked out for you, but trust me, you've still got a lot to learn."
As they walked through the campus, Gojo made casual small talk, occasionally dropping cryptic hints about the school. Furōkawa was more interested in the campus itself—beautifully designed, intricate, and unlike anything he'd seen before.
"This place is basically one big barrier," Gojo explained casually. "Controlled by a funky old thumb-man. I'll teach you about it later. Maybe."
Furōkawa frowned. "Funky old thumb-man?"
"You'll see," Gojo said with a grin.
Eventually, they arrived at a classroom. Gojo gestured toward the door.
"Now remember, these are the people you'll be sticking with for a while. Make a good first impression!"
Furōkawa nodded, though nerves prickled at him. It had been years since he'd been in school, and the idea of starting over was daunting. Still, after everything he'd been through, he felt like there was no wall he couldn't climb.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The classroom was simple, but Furōkawa barely noticed it. His eyes immediately locked onto one of the students sitting near the front.
"Wait is that… YUTA?!"
"FURŌ?!"
The two cousins stared at each other in disbelief, their identical exclamations ringing through the room.
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
ayoshounen
ayoshounen Sorry for taking so long on this, I’ve been working and handling school. Thank you for your patience!
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone