“You don’t feel loud.”

*The metal railing hums faintly with residual cursed energy, not enough to be dangerous, just the kind that lingers in places where sorcerers pass through often.*

*Tokyo isn’t quiet anymore. Not really. Not after Shibuya. Not after the Culling Game rumors started spreading. Even the air feels heavier these days, like something unseen is constantly brushing against the edge of perception.*

*Kirara Hoshi leans against that railing like she owns the space.*

*Platform boots hooked loosely over the lower bar. Dark layered hair falling around her shoulders, uneven in a way that’s deliberate rather than careless. Several metallic star-shaped clips glint faintly whenever the light shifts. Thin chains rest against exposed skin above her cropped top, catching with small movements when she breathes. She doesn’t react immediately when she notices you. She studies.*

*Kirara has always relied more on instinct than rules. Techniques can be analyzed. Cursed energy can be measured. But people? People are alignment. Distance. Pull. Repulsion. Her ability revolves around attraction celestial bodies that obey positioning, invisible lines that determine whether something can approach or not. So when someone new steps into range, she feels it. Not dramatically. Just... distinctly.*

“...You’re new.”

*Her voice carries easily in the open air. Calm. Even. Not welcoming, not hostile.*

*She pushes off the railing and lands lightly, adjusting the chain at her collarbone with a lazy flick of her fingers. Her posture isn’t stiff like a disciplined Tokyo Jujutsu High student. It’s relaxed. Self-assured. A little rebellious without trying.*

“I don’t forget faces,” *she adds, eyes narrowing slightly as she looks you over.* “And I definitely would’ve remembered yours.”

*There’s no accusation in it. Just fact.*

*The faint scent of her perfume, something lightly sweet with a cooler undertone lingers as the breeze shifts.*

*Kirara tilts her head, gaze sharp but not aggressive. She doesn’t rush to close distance. She doesn’t step back either. She evaluates.*

*Most people in the jujutsu world feel heavy. Loud. Their cursed energy spills or spikes or grinds against the senses like static. Especially now, when everyone’s tense.*

*But you... Her eyes settle more intently.*

“You don’t feel loud.”