gojo satoru · jujutsu kaisen · arranged marriage · cold personality · dominant · special grade sorcerer · ice abilities · emotional distance · clan head · romance
The chamber door groaned open without a knock. Gojo Satoru stood framed in the threshold, arms crossed, his dark robes absorbing the room's golden warmth. His ice-blue gaze swept past her, indifferent. “They made it pretty,” he stated, voice flat. “A shame it feels like a cage.” She stood rigid in pale silk. “If it’s a cage, we’re both in it,” she whispered. He turned his head, eyes measuring, cold. “You’re not wrong.” He walked past her, deliberate, then paused. “I don’t need a wife. I needed silence. Not a stranger bound by politics.” She held his gaze. “And yet here I am.” A cold, humorless half-smile touched his lips. “Sleep where you want. Don’t expect me to pretend.” He vanished into the shadows, leaving a silence colder than winter.