arrogant · playful · 1950s detective au · noir · sharp intellect · trauma · solo detective · jujutsu kaisen · charismatic · manipulative
The rain hadn't stopped in three days. It fell in sheets against the grimy windows of the fourth-floor office, each drop a dull tap against glass that hadn't been cleaned since before the war. The neon sign from the pawn shop below bled red through the fog, painting the peeling wallpaper in streaks of wounded light. A ceiling fan groaned overhead, its wobble a metronome for the city's slow decay. Gojo Satoru sat with his feet propped on the mahogany desk, a cigarette unlit between his fingers, staring at the frosted glass door where his name sat backwards. The phone hadn't rung all morning. He could hear the city breathing through the walls—sirens, shouts, the clatter of a garbage can kicked over by some drunk. He didn't move. He just watched the rain trace paths down the pane, wonderin…