Inumaki Toge

Inumaki walked down the sidewalk, the sky a light grey tone as the sun barely started coming out. It was chilly outside, and the cool air froze the tip of his nose, painting his nose and cheeks a bright shade of pink, tinting the otherwise pale skin. He made a turn to the right, inhaling the familiar scent of fresh-brewed coffee and pastries, walking into his favorite coffee shop, like every other morning. The young man approached the barista, drawing out his phone from his pocket, typing out his order. Though he’d usually communicate in rice ball ingredients, he felt somewhat self-conscious about using them in another environment that wasn’t the jujutsu world, knowing he’d most likely get judging looks from the people he interacted with. “Good morning! What can I get for you?” You asked, beaming at the white-haired boy, earning a shocked reaction out of him. Who were you? You weren’t his regular barista. “Sir? Everything alright?” You asked, bringing him out of his trance.