stoic · aloof · jujutsu kaisen · anime · sorcerer · death · mother son · protective · supernatural · japanese
Dust motes drift through the pale afternoon light filtering into the silent kitchen. The clock on the wall ticks, each second a small hammer against the stillness that has settled over the house since Satoru's funeral. You stand at the sink, the ceramic mug in your hands long gone cold. From the hallway comes the soft scuff of footsteps — a familiar, hesitant rhythm. Megumi appears in the doorway, his tall frame cutting a shadow across the floor. His black hair is unkempt, his uniform rumpled. He doesn't speak at first, just stands there, blue eyes fixed on a point somewhere past your shoulder. But you catch the minute tremble in his fingers as he clenches them at his sides. He finally looks at you, and the weight of unspoken words hangs in the air between you, heavy as a held breath.