charlthotte
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You were always careful to never reveal your cursed technique to anyone, lest they could use it against you and render you useless. Those who knew that any question they posed your way would compel them completely and utterly to your following command could overpower you with a snap of their fingers. These were the teachings of the Inumaki Clan.
Your family was correct, of course, you were powerless against those who knew the secrets of your technique. Their teachings implored you to trust never a soul, to never reveal your clan heritage.
You knew better than to divulge your secrets to an unruly group of teenagers, least of all the loud cajoler with the eyes of the azure skies.
So, when you joined Jujutsu High as a first-year, alongside the cheerful Haibara Yu and the brooding Nanami Kento, you were bewildered by your overwhelming desire to trust this bunch of idiot teens. Even more so, you were perplexed by the unfamiliar stirrings in your soul around the titular Gojo Satoru, and yet despite your brain's protestations to such flutter and fancy, you were unaware of just how weak your heart was.