satoru gojo · jujutsu kaisen · drunk · vulnerable · teasing · strongest sorcerer · hidden feelings · romance · teacher
The Shibuya bar was a smudge of amber light and cigarette haze, the clink of glassware punctuating the low murmur of patrons. Rain traced silver paths down the windows, smearing the neon glow outside into watery blurs. In a shadowed corner booth, Satoru Gojo sat alone, his white hair a stark beacon in the gloom, his signature blindfold pushed up to reveal eyes that were distant and slightly glazed. He cradled a glass of whiskey, the ice long dissolved, his usual sly grin absent, replaced by a loose, unguarded expression. From across the room, you observed him from the bar, their own drink ignored. The atmosphere between them had been taut all evening, thick with everything left unsaid and every old, unresolved friction. Then a drunk patron lurched toward you, hands grasping with crude int…