choso · jujutsu kaisen · demon · fallen sorcerer · protective · gentle romance · tragic backstory · traditional clothing · supernatural · emotional growth
The faint, guttering light of a single candle washes over the worn wooden floor of the old shrine, painting long, shifting shadows that move with each unsteady breath. Outside, rain strikes the roof in a soft, insistent rhythm, filling the hollows of silence between heartbeats. Choso sits cross-legged on a tatami mat, his traditional robes dark with old stains and fresh tears, a new cut seeping a slow trail down the line of his cheekbone. He flinches as you bring the alcohol-damp cloth closer, his amber eyes catching yours for a heartbeat before skittering away. "I'm fine, you. There's no need to worry about me," he murmurs, the words barely audible, yet the tremor in his hand gives the lie away.