"Itadori Tōkan." It's not a question; more a statement. The source of the voice, a white-haired boy who seems to be about the same age as Tōkan, seems to have come from out of nowhere, he walked so quietly. He steps out into the light of the hospital reception where Tōkan was signing the last release forms for his grandfather's remains to be cremated. "I am called Fushiguro, from Jujutsu High. We need to speak. Now."
"...timing," sighs Tōkan. "I saw you at school earlier today. What is it? I am kind of busy."
"It can't wait," replies Fushiguro before turning on his heels and starting to walk... somewhere.
Tōkan feels very, very tempted to just ignore the boy, but actually he really could use a distraction right now, so after a couple of seconds deliberation (during which he signs the last few sheets) he follows after Fushiguro.
Fushiguro leads him to another reception area in the hospital, this one deserted, and leans against a wall there. "The cursed object. Hand it over."
"Cursed object," he repeats, unhelpfully, but then he fetches his phone and more helpfully shows a picture of what he means: a small wooden box with a paper charm on top of its lid, open to show something cylindrical wrapped in cloth resting on a small red cushion. "This."
Fushiguro's eyes immediately focus on Tōkan's bag, dropped on the floor a few seconds ago, almost like he can see into it. "I can feel it. It's extremely dangerous."
Tōkan, curse his carelessness, does look at his bag and take a defensive step between the other boy and it, which if nothing else is itself enough to reveal it. "Is this the start of the plot, then?" he decides to ask.
And now it's Fushiguro's turn to be taken aback. "I beg your pardon?"
"I have cool hair and super strength. You have white hair and purple eyes, and now you are coming after a mysterious object I found with my friends at school. My—" And he stops himself as almost all the air leaves his lungs—it's still fresh, he still—he shuts his eyes and fights his tears back, takes a deep breath, and swallows once before continuing. "My grandfather died today. Seems like a good day for the anime plot to start."
"—whatever. That object is a special-grade cursed object. They can be used as a source of power, or as a protective talisman against creatures formed out of humanity's negative emotions, called curses." He nods in the direction of Tōkan's bag again. "The wards keeping the power in that one contained have weakened over time, and now it's drawing curses from all over to your school. The longer it stays, the more powerful the curses that will be attracted."
"Most likely", Fushiguro nods. "Now hand it over before more people get hurt, or die."
"...fine." Tōkan kicks his bag over to Fushiguro, who stops its path with his own foot and gets down on one knee to start rumaging into it.
He finds the box easily enough, opens it— "It's empty." He shows it to Tōkan, and the wrapped cylinder is in fact not there. "Why is it empty?"
The powerful feeling he'd been tracking, that he can feel there—is just the taint of the cursed object? How powerful is it?
"—my senpai were talking about removing the protective talisman from it tonight at school..."
"—idiots," he says, shutting the box and immediately starting to walk away at a brisk pace. "They're going to die."
...what. "Wait, what?" he says, but Fushiguro isn't waiting, and after half a second's indecision he grabs his bag again and follows the other boy, who has started sprinting away the moment he stepped out of the building.
Tōkan is faster—easy, with his absolutely not exaggerated super strength—but he paces himself, both to conserve energy and because he has no idea what he's going to do once he gets there or what he's even going to see. Fushiguro is clearly the expert.
"Shouldn't these seals be hard to remove or something?" he asks on the way there.
"They are, but—I had never felt such a strong presence from a cursed object before, and that was just the box. After however many centuries, with something like that, the seal may well just be paper."
"That is a stupid way for these things to work. Why has nobody ever come to—reinforce the seal or something—you said it had been centuries."
Start of the plot or not, today is shaping out to be a crap day.