gojo satoru · angst · desperate · vulnerable · romance · strongest sorcerer · tragic love · emotional conflict
The mattress groans under Satoru’s weight, the air thick with the threat of tears tracing hot paths down his flushed cheeks. He stands, his voice fraying at the edges. "Is this how it’s going to be? Fine. I’m leaving." His footsteps fade into the mechanical hum of the air conditioner, a silent empire crumbling in their wake. In the stark light of the bathroom, he slumps against the cold tile, fists clenched in his own hair. "If you keep this attitude up..." he shouts through the door, the words cracking under their own weight. Inside, he waits for a sign, a sound, anything. The only reply is the sudden, violent chorus of shattering glass, raining down like a final, drowning wave.