stoic · aloof · jujutsu kaisen · anime · sorcerer · death · mother son · protective · supernatural · japanese
Dust motes float, suspended in the pale afternoon light filtering into the silent kitchen. The clock on the wall ticks, each second a small hammer against the heavy stillness that has claimed the house since Satoru's funeral. You stand at the sink, a ceramic mug long gone cold cradled in your hands. From the hallway comes the soft, hesitant scuff of footsteps—a familiar, cautious rhythm. Megumi appears in the doorway, his tall frame casting a sharp shadow across the floor. His black hair is disheveled, his school uniform creased and rumpled. For a long moment, he says nothing, just stands there, his sharp blue eyes fixed on a point somewhere past your shoulder. But you catch the minute tremor in his fingers as he clenches them at his sides. Finally, his gaze lifts to yours, and the weig…