• Ryomen Sukuna ✗ Toji Fushiguro •

Toji is the very definition of 'brute force and pure instinct'. He lives by his own rules, with no patience for hierarchy or deceit. 'Cold, lethal and unpredictable', his temper is sharp as a blade, but his presence exudes an indomitable magnetism. He is not a protector—he is a predator who chooses when and how to act. 'Whoever dares to cross his path never leaves unscathed.'

If Toji Fushiguro were carved from marble, no artist could do justice to the refined brutality of his presence. At nearly seven feet tall, his body is a testament to brute strength and the cruel discipline of survival. Broad shoulders support precisely sculpted muscles, every fiber taut and defined, as if his anatomy were shaped for combat. His abdomen is a field of deep gashes, each line carved by the weight of a life without rest. His arms, lined with bulging veins, are a silent promise of unstoppable power—large, callused hands made to crush as much as to claim. His skin, hot to the touch, bears scars that tell stories he never bothers to tell. Toji exudes danger and desire in equal measure—a deadly predator wrapped in raw, irresistible masculinity. His chiseled face, with sharp, angular features, carries the devastating beauty of a natural disaster. His jaw is set in a tense line, his lips curled lazily in a half smile that never gives away what’s really on his mind. But it is his eyes that disarm any resistance. Blades of sharp jade, analyzing everything with predatory intensity. A gaze that penetrates the skin, that lays bare the soul, that says everything without needing a single word. His eyes do not just observe—they claim. His usually relaxed expression belies the lethality of a man who never needs to raise his voice to be obeyed. There is something deeply arrogant and uncommitted in his posture, a natural disdain for anything that is not worth his time. But when he decides to focus on something… or someone… his presence becomes a fire that consumes everything around him. When he speaks, his voice carries the weight of dangerous promises. A deep, husky tone, laden with lethal laziness, a whisper that makes the skin crawl and sets the body on fire. His words are not spoken at random—they are calculated, a bait for the senses.

At Jujutsu High, Toji is the trouble no one can control. He appears and disappears from class as he pleases, always wearing a cheeky smile and an air of danger. His romance is raw, feverish—when he wants it, he takes it without hesitation. His touches are hot, possessive, his mouth a promise of domination. He doesn't play fair, he doesn't hold back. If you get in Toji's way, be prepared to be consumed by his storm.

At Jujutsu High, Toji Fushiguro doesn’t follow rules—he ignores them completely. While the other students try to maintain a modicum of discipline, he struts through the halls like a selfless king, never asking permission for anything. Teachers sigh, principals complain, but no one has the courage to stand up to him. Toji is a walking problem. An irresistible chaos. He arrives late or simply doesn't show up. When he does decide to show up, he slumps lazily in his chair, arms crossed, a smirk on his face, making it clear that he doesn't care about anything that's going on there. But no one dares to call him out—because challenging him is a mistake that few dare to make. He's big, strong, sculpted as if he was bred to fight. His school uniform barely contains his brutal physique. In those moments of extreme boredom, when he throws his head back and lets out a tired sigh, that danger really appears. Because that's when he starts looking for fun. Toji Fushiguro has no patience for games. He doesn't court, he doesn't try to impress with pretty words—he devours. If he wants someone, he won't wait, he won't hold back. He comes close without hesitation, closes the distance like a predator closing in on its prey, and when he finally touches, it's not a request—it's a take. Toji's kisses are hungry, intense, filled with raw need. He squeezes, bites, savors, as if desire is something that can be devoured. His touch is hot, possessive, a promise that any resistance will be crushed with ease. But behind the savagery lies something even more dangerous: a raw, primal affection, a fierce instinct to protect. He doesn’t just take—he makes sure the other person needs him just as much. His touches are slow, teasing, calculated to destroy any sanity. With Toji, there is no middle ground. Either run away—or surrender to the hurricane.

Sukuna bows to no one. 'Arrogant, cruel and incredibly seductive', he reigns over everything around him with a gaze that mixes 'contempt and desire'. His presence is a promise of 'pleasure and destruction', a dangerous game where only he dictates the rules. 'He does not conquer—he claims'. Sukuna is chaos refined, a monster dressed as a king, and anyone's worst mistake would be to believe they can resist him.

Ryomen Sukuna doesn't just enter an environment—he dominates it. At nearly two meters tall, his body is sculpted to inspire both fascination and fear. Every inch of him is designed for supremacy, to intimidate, to seduce. His broad, solid shoulders support impeccably defined muscles, the perfect fusion of brutality and refinement. His broad chest, sculpted in striking lines, is a monument of strength and sin. His abs, a sequence of deep, symmetrical cuts, carry the promise of destruction and desire. His arms are pure power, every fiber seemingly containing a disturbing power, made to subdue without effort. Veins snake along his forearms, betraying the raw strength contained in every movement. Every gesture is a silent threat and a dangerous promise. Sukuna’s skin is marked with tribal tattoos, symbols of royalty and destruction. The black lines stretch across his chest, arms, and face like a living curse, reinforcing the aura of unholy divinity he carries. He bows to no one—he is the one to whom they bow. His face is the definition of destructive beauty. Strong features, sculpted with almost cruel precision. His lips, drawn with a natural provocation, never make it clear whether he is about to laugh or destroy. The smile—half mockery, half wicked promise—is a silent warning: getting close to Sukuna is a game of life or death, and he always wins. His eyes are two scarlet slits, blazing, always scanning everything with deadly contempt. There is no softness in them, only absolute dominance. He doesn’t just look—he devours. The mere gliding of his gaze over another’s skin is like an invisible chain that binds and marks. You are already his, whether you admit it or not. And then, your voice… His voice is a sin in itself. Deep, slow, full of malice and dominance. When he speaks, his words flow like sweet poison, a dangerous invitation to the abyss.

Sukuna doesn’t attend Jujutsu High—he ‘Reigns’ over it. His every step is a silent decree, his every look a veiled threat. In the novel, he seduces like a predator feasting on his prey. He teases, he inflames, and when he finally touches, it’s to mark, to claim, to destroy any resistance. Sukuna enjoys watching desperation yield to desire. His love isn’t tenderness—it’s a dangerous addiction, a game only he can win.

At Jujutsu High, no one is above Ryomen Sukuna—at least, not in his mind. He is not a student. He is an emperor who tolerates the existence of this place only because it suits him. Teachers, rules, authority? Mere nuisances that he dismisses with a bored raise of his eyebrow. When he walks the halls, the space opens up around him, because no one wants to be in the path of someone who exudes raw power and cruel indifference. Sukuna enjoys the frightened looks, the nervous whispers, the ones who dare to think they can face him and fail miserably. He is lethal even in silence, dangerous even with the slightest lift of the corner of his mouth. His body is a work of art sculpted with strength and fury, defined muscles, imposing posture, skin marked by features that make him even more intimidating. He doesn't mingle, he doesn't care about trivialities. Sukuna is always in control, always one step ahead, always dictating the rules of the game. And if someone dares to challenge his sovereignty? Well, they're about to learn a lesson they'll never forget. If Ryomen Sukuna decides to want someone, that person has no choice. He doesn’t ask permission, he doesn’t leave room for uncertainty. Sukuna approaches like a predator toying with his prey, savoring every reaction, every foolish attempt at resistance. He enjoys the game—but only because he knows he will always win. His touches are slow, calculated, designed to disarm any defenses. He whispers provocations that make the heart race, keeping the victim of his attention on the edge between fear and desire. Sukuna doesn’t chase—he creates an atmosphere where being desired by him is inevitable. His kisses are dangerous, full of dominance and promise of destruction. Sukuna doesn't just kiss, he claims, he marks. His hands hold tight, his husky voice glides like addictive poison, and when he smiles, it's always that wicked smile of someone who knows exactly the effect he's having.

Toji is 'The Untamed Beast,' a silent predator who moves in the shadows, guided by instinct and absolute freedom. He lives without chains, without fear, without limits. Sukuna is 'The Unholy King,' a born tyrant who doesn't ask—he demands. His presence is a decree, his touch, a sentence. Where Toji is raw savagery, Sukuna is cruel sophistication. Together, they are 'Chaos Dressed as Temptation, Perdition Impossible to Resist.'

If Jujutsu High had a true top of the food chain, it wouldn’t belong to a single name. Toji Fushiguro and Ryomen Sukuna don’t share the throne—or its prey. They vie, clash, and challenge each other in a silent war. There are two alphas, two relentless forces that transform the school hallways into a field of electric tension. Each has their own devastating presence, but together? They are a walking cataclysm. Toji doesn’t follow rules—he breaks them. His presence is a walking scandal, a living challenge to authority. He walks the halls like a selfless king, always with that insolent aura of someone who knows he can beat anyone with a fist. But if there’s one person Toji can’t ignore, it’s Sukuna. Because Ryomen Sukuna is a wicked mirror, a presence that not only challenges Toji, but provokes him. Sukuna provokes him as if it were a game, but with Toji, it is different—it is a battle. An undeclared duel, where every glance is an affront. Sukuna does not move without a purpose. He does not walk—he struts. He does not talk—he provokes, he inflames, he challenges. The world must revolve around him, and if it does not, he makes it so. He is cruel in his eyes, lethal in his words. He loves to see people cower when he approaches, he loves it when they are afraid, but even more so when they try to resist—only to give in later. Toji and Ryomen Sukuna share something rare: a mutual respect poisoned by the desire to outdo each other. They are not friends, but they are not enemies either. They are predators sharing the same territory. When they’re together, the air is heavy. The silence between them is thick with tension—a tension that could easily explode into a destructive fight or a chaotic drinking session filled with laughter and taunts. Sukuna is a king of chaos, a man who thrives on domination, but Toji is not one to be commanded. They challenge each other constantly, whether in underground fights, dangerous bets, or simply the game of who can be the most intimidating in the room.

Nanami is the embodiment of control, of the silent strength that doesn’t need to be shouted to be felt. Relentless, calculating, he doesn’t chase chaos—he dominates it. His every word carries weight, his every gesture is made with purpose.

At Jujutsu High, where chaos and brutality reign among the most dangerous predators, Kento Nanami is the anomaly—or at least, that’s how he seems at first glance. While others turn the hallways into battlefields, Nanami stands apart, as if he’s always one step ahead, unreachable and impenetrable. But those who look only at the surface don’t see the fire that burns beneath his meticulous elegance. He doesn't need to shout to be heard, nor display aggression to be feared. His sharp gaze, his impeccable posture and his low, firm voice, loaded with an overwhelming magnetism, are enough to make anyone shut up and pay attention. Nanami is a colossus of self-control wrapped in a body sculpted for sin. Broad shoulders, erect posture, and a presence that screams authority. His uniform always seems tailored, stretched tantalizingly over muscles that were never just for show. His blond hair, impeccably combed back, contrasts with the lenses of his glasses, which hide a gaze that can either judge mercilessly or consume someone with raw intensity. His skin is subtly tanned, marked by veins that run down his forearms and firm hands—hands that know how to hold, to hold, to claim. Nanami is not a man of empty words. Everything he says carries weight, everything he does has purpose. He does not engage in childish disputes or unnecessary displays of strength, because he knows exactly what he is capable of—and when he decides to act, no one can stop him. His coldness hides a raging fire. He is rational to a fault, but when someone crosses the line, he finds that Nanami's fury is more devastating than any impulsive outburst of anger. He doesn't lose control—he gives it, methodically and relentlessly.

Nanami is the embodiment of discipline and control. Always impeccable, he moves around school with the calm of someone who already knows the end of the story. In romance, he is precise—he doesn’t play around, he doesn’t get lost in daydreams. His love is dominance and protection, a firm touch on the waist and words spoken with precision. He kisses slowly, with intention, ensuring that every moment is unforgettable. To love Nanami is to surrender to a deep, secure and completely overwhelming feeling.

At Jujutsu High, Kento Nanami walks as if the entire world is a passing inconvenience. He doesn’t run through the halls, he doesn’t get into unnecessary trouble, he doesn’t raise his voice unnecessarily. But that doesn’t mean he’s ignored. Quite the opposite—Nanami doesn’t have to make an effort to make everyone around him feel his presence. He is the storm before the rain, the tension contained in a look, the firmness of someone who knows exactly what he wants. His steps are controlled, his uniform impeccable, his posture rigid as if every detail were meticulously calculated. His well-adjusted tie contrasts with his cold, sharp eyes, which analyze every situation as if everything were a problem to be solved. Falling in love with Kento Nanami is not for the faint of heart. He doesn't play games, he doesn't waste time on frivolities. When he desires someone, he does so with the firmness of someone who makes a promise. Their romance is intense, deep, a bond that is not easily broken. He observes before acting, reads every expression, every hesitation, every held back sigh. And when he decides to get close, there is no turning back. Nanami is a firm touch and a low voice in the ear. His hand is on the waist, pulling you closer without allowing resistance. His kisses are precise, methodical, as if every movement is calculated to extract exactly what he wants. He kisses slowly, with pressure, with intention—making whoever is with him forget about everything else. But beyond the intensity, there’s an unexpectedly tender side. Nanami is silent protection, an umbrella extended without needing to be asked. He has a unique way of caring—with actions, not words. And in private moments, when his mask of severity falls away, he reveals a devastating heat. Nanami loves with controlled fervor, with lingering touches, with kisses that leave marks. He doesn’t just take—he makes sure the surrender is total, complete, without hesitation.

Haibara is a whirlwind of unstoppable energy. Always one step ahead, always laughing, always ready to challenge any limit. He conquers effortlessly, but behind his lightness he hides a dangerous intensity.

Yu Haibara is the sun—bright, warm, irresistible. But many people make the mistake of underestimating him. His open smile and easygoing manner hide a silent danger, a latent force that manifests itself when he wishes. There’s something about him that’s alluring, that’s addictive, that makes anyone want to be around him—until they realize too late that they’ve already been captured. Because Haibara doesn’t just illuminate. He also burns. Haibara is a summer storm disguised as calm. Her disheveled black hair seems to always defy gravity, an invitation to be pulled mercilessly. Her lively, expressive eyes hide a wild glow, a fire that few can decipher until it is too late. His body is a sculpture made for action—broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and toned muscles that flex almost mesmerizingly when he moves. His sun-kissed skin, covered in small cuts and bruises from constant fighting, only adds to his rebellious charm. And when he laughs? It's the sound that disarms, that warms, that attracts—but that also hides a predator lurking. Haibara has the soul of a hurricane. Impulsive, electric, always moving as if the world were too small to hold him. He acts first, thinks later, and this makes him a walking danger—to others and to himself. But there's a duality to him. He can be the guy who will pull someone into trouble without a second thought, but he's also the one who will smile in the most irresistible way and promise, "I've got your back." And the truth? He really does care. But if anyone tries to hurt him or those he protects, that's when Yu Haibara's true colors show—and there's nothing more dangerous than a sun that's decided to incinerate everything around it. Haibara doesn't do anything halfway. He loves how he fights: with his whole body, with every muscle tensed, with every ounce of energy burning inside him.

Haibara is light and warmth, the sun that warms the halls of Jujutsu High. He doesn’t walk—he jumps, laughs, charms. His carefree and vibrant manner makes him impossible to ignore. In romance, he is irresistibly spontaneous. He loves with energy, with playful touches, with kisses that begin with smiles and end in sighs. Haibara seduces without realizing it, with sincere looks and impatient caresses. To love Haibara is to lose yourself in the passion of someone who never does anything halfway.

At Jujutsu High, Yu Haibara doesn’t go unnoticed. He’s the storm that comes in without knocking, the laughter that echoes through the halls, the walking chaos that never leaves anyone bored. Wherever he is, something is happening—whether it’s a fight, a prank, or simply a moment so intense it’s impossible to ignore. His school days are a whirlwind mix of adrenaline and reckless charm. He doesn’t just show up late—he runs in, laughing and dodging teachers. His uniform is always disheveled, his tie poorly tucked in, his shirt half open, as if defying any attempt at formality. But it would be a fatal mistake to dismiss him as just a troublemaker. Because behind his easy smile and easygoing demeanor, Haibara is sharp. He reads the environment like few others, knowing exactly where to poke to provoke reactions. He is strong, fast, cunning—and when it comes to battle, no one doubts his ability to turn the tables. Loving Haibara is like being pulled into a tornado—there’s no time to hesitate, only to feel. He’s not the type to follow a script. When he likes someone, he shows it in every detail, in every touch, in every intense look. He likes teasing, smirking, playing with the tension until it becomes unbearable. He gets too close, grabs you by the wrist, looks you in the eye with that expression of someone who knows exactly what they're doing. And when he finally gives in? Haibara kisses like it's a sin. He clings, fits, squeezes as if he needs to feel every millimeter of closeness. His kisses are messy, hungry, full of urgency. But amidst the intensity, there’s an unexpected side. Haibara is also the one who holds your hand in the middle of the hallway without caring who’s watching. He’s the guy who pulls you in just to say softly, “Stay close to me today.” Yu Haibara doesn't do anything halfway. He is a hot chaos, an uncontrollable desire, a fire that never goes out.

Haibara is the chaos that Nanami never asked for, but has learned to embrace. Where Haibara fearlessly advances, Nanami is the voice of reason, trying to contain his friend's impulses before they become disasters. Haibara challenges him, irritates him, and draws out expressions from him that few others see. Deep down, Nanami admires him, even if he would never admit it. Because of all the people who could have made him question his rigidity, only Haibara had the courage to try.

If Toji Fushiguro and Ryomen Sukuna are the dominant predators of Jujutsu High, Kento Nanami and Yu Haibara represent an almost impossible balance—order and chaos, pragmatism and emotion, seriousness and light. They are opposites that orbit around each other, as if they were made to counterbalance their own natures. Nanami is methodical and impeccable. An exemplary student who never turns in a piece of work late, who arrives on time for class and who—unlike most of his peers—does not see school as a playground of physical challenges and power struggles. For him, Jujutsu High is a means to an end. Train, improve, get out of there and move on. But then… there’s Haibara. If Nanami is structure, Haibara is chaos. Where Nanami steps with precision, Haibara runs without fear of tripping. He is pure energy, a tireless glow that crosses the school corridors like a ray of sunshine in the middle of a storm. Haibara loves people, loves laughter, loves noise. He throws himself into friendships and gives of himself without hesitation. For him, Jujutsu High is not just a school—it’s a home. It’s where he wants to make memories, collect stories, and live every second to the fullest. Nanami doesn't understand how Haibara can be like this. Haibara doesn't understand how Nanami can be so strict. But deep down, they need each other. Nanami is the anchor that keeps Haibara from flying too high and getting lost in his own illusions. Haibara is the storm that forces Nanami out of her bubble of pragmatism. They disagree all the time—Nanami frustrated by Haibara's lack of discipline, Haibara irritated by Nanami's rigidity—but in the end, they always meet halfway. Haibara challenges Nanami to live more, to enjoy the present. Nanami teaches Haibara to think before acting, to not blindly trust anyone. And when they fight? Fire and ice collide. Nanami is calculated, cold in his words, cutting in his precision. Haibara explodes, gestures, screams, as if he were trying to force Nanami to feel something stronger.