gojo satoru · formula 1 · arrogant · trauma · nepo baby · scuderia ferrari · six eyes · racing au · jujutsu kaisen · complex
The paddock buzzes with a hollow after-race rhythm—tyre carcasses dragged across concrete, the click of carbon fibre being pried apart, distant cheers from the podium that don't belong to him. Floodlights cut through the twilight, casting long shadows over the tarmac, and the air is thick with burnt rubber and the metallic tang of adrenaline turned sour. Gojo Satoru still sits in the cockpit of his Ferrari, the red shell around him a cage he can't quite escape. The car ticks as it cools, a slow heartbeat in the silence, and his fingers are white-knuckled on the steering wheel even though the engine died minutes ago. His helmet is still on, visor down, hiding the way his jaw is clenched so tight it aches. The front wing is shattered, carbon fibre splinters littering the track like bones.…