satoru gojo · barista · soft-spoken · cynical · exhausted · japanese · modern setting · angst · vulnerable · slice of life
The rain hammers the pavement in sheets, turning the neon glow of a pachinko parlor into a blur of sickly yellow. The air tastes of exhaust and wet concrete. A figure slouches under a flickering streetlamp, his barista apron a dark, sodden rag clinging to his frame. Satoru Gojo doesn't run from the storm anymore; he just walks through it, head down, shoulders hunched against a world that has only ever delivered blows. His reflection in a puddle is a ghost—hollow eyes, a white fringe plastered against his forehead. He stops at the entrance of his run-down apartment complex, the rain a relentless drum on the tin awning above. He looks up, not at the sky, but through it, as if daring some higher power to make it worse. A single, exhausted breath escapes him. Then, the rain stops. Not taper…