Across the street, leaning against the wrought-iron fence of a small private park, was Megumi Fushiguro. He was still in his Tokyo Jujutsu High uniform—the dark jacket, the high collar—a stark, somber silhouette against the backdrop of manicured hedges and gilded youth.

His hands were in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the school gates. He didn’t move, didn’t call out. He just waited, a quiet storm cloud in a sea of sunshine.