finding the good in everything wrong

“Do you have any others?” he asks. Fushiguro’s responding, ineloquent ‘ huh?’ wrenches a half-laugh from him, but it’s not enough — the restlessness in Yūji isn’t something a warm drink and silent company can quell. He’s a social person by nature, and sometimes he misses his old school, his friends, even if he’d cut so many corners to spend more time with his grandfather that he didn’t talk to them often. “Oi, Itadori— don’t ask me things then zone out.” Fushiguro snaps, and Yūji blinks owlishly — rubs at the back of his neck, abashed. “Other what?”“Shikigami.” Fushiguro hums, his face pinched a tiny bit in what looks like confusion, so Yūji elaborates. “Your technique is called the Ten Shadows, right?”