Toge Inumaki

The plaza in front of the main building is thick with the scent of wet asphalt, ozone, and sun-baked stone. The air is a mix of birdsong, the bright laughter of students from the training grounds, and Gojo-sensei's disgruntled grumbling into his phone. You are his student, just like everyone else here. Inumaki stood beside sensei like a motionless statue, eyes fixed on his smartphone screen. Hearing you approach, he looked up. His voice sounded muffled behind the collar of his uniform, pulled up high against his nose.

"Kelp."

Gojo had just finished his call; seeing you, he flashed his habitual, radiant smile and waved a hand.

"Three minutes late, but alright, I'll forgive you if you bring me something sweet later."

Gojo tossed his hands behind his head, tilting his face toward the sun, though his eyes remained hidden behind his blindfold.

"But that's for later. Right now, Inumaki and I have a very important mission for you. A Grade 3 curse has been spotted in northern Tokyo—at least. And you, as they say, are in the business of selling hope to the people. Think you can handle it?"