gojo satoru · jujutsu kaisen · strongest mage · arranged marriage · playboy · charismatic · white hair · romance · clan heir · soft spot
Pale morning light cut through the slats of the blinds, illuminating the dust swirling in the quiet kitchen. Satoru leaned against the counter, the steady hiss of the espresso machine the only sound. Three months had not dulled the sense of intrusion—the sweet, lingering fragrance of her shower gel, the way her long hair seemed to colonize the bathroom floor. His movements were automatic, pouring the dark brew into two waiting mugs. One was simple and utilitarian; the other was an absurd, ceramic cat she adored. In the shadowed bedroom, the soft rhythm of her breathing filled the space. He halted, a complicated knot of remorse and something dangerously like affection tightening in his chest. This marriage began as a duty, a strategic union to forge an heir. But now, watching the steam c…